The real is real and jehovah is only and real. I am not. ia m nothing. in this everything i do not stand. i am not vocal. i am not charismmatic. what kind of folk do i want to surround myself by. i think about that and pray. do i enjoy the creative type. or am i afraid to share power with them? do i think that i am greater than most? am i qualified to lead a flock like a beautiful loving shepard. a wise old father with gray beard. walt whitman and his grocery boys? like sharon at the shores of lethe. am i the boatman accepting morbid donations. on the eyelids of virgins. the letter is written it cannot be understood. the burrito has been eaten. i am afraid of the mmexican. the morbid christian artist el dia de los muertos. dark catholicism. i can see the demonns, even when they dress like angels. i can understand their language. i am immersed in the ceremony. i am part of the cherry of heaven. being popped on new years eve. and the dawning of a new age begins where light can truly be seen. it is not yet a step apart, but the glory and kindness that awaits turns into brandy pudding. set aflame awaiting a benevolent diner to extinguish the burning. like a guy in a hospital with pain. making fun of the injury. the burrito sitting in the belly. the nitrogen awaiting and building. seering through the ass flap like a whoopy contraption. i like the seering, and the burning. the fish awaits the flesh. the fish smells like mating. and no you can't have this beer. and no you aren't my friend. until you've walked through the fire you cannnot share the pleasures of being with me. you can not hit this, smoke that, inject this. this is for me until you have proved yr loyalty. you are not my friennd until you are no longer my enemy. and then ceasing to put emnity you put slavery. and i walk you around like a puppet for a period. or like a kind and loyal kanaine, but not the one that's also a swine. the human loving kind. the kind that doesn't need any fix but a smell of the homo sapein crotch. that sweet nectar of the gods. the ambrosia of life and living. the juice of fertility in the bacteria of reality. the truth of the circle jerk and the communal spirit of holy matrimony. like the marriage bed and counseling. the lookinglasself reveals nothing to nobodies and something to somebodies. when walking like a zombie self awareness becomes irrelevant. i want attention. please look and listen at mme. my ears are rinnging and mmy signs are pointing. i am aware of my own being. make it stop this ringing. this self aware being. it's making the nausea relapse. its making happiness difficult. these needs and these feelings. this drama and romance. this past and these ideas.