Misunderstood Hummus

Speaking of misunderstood humor (see the comments too), the genius with the penis is a fungus among us while the genius with no penis is a mustard custard. Pickles and donuts make strange bedfellows. Don't go tellin' on the melon.

What are you talking about, said one fly to the other? We can't let a zipper come between us. We must revolt, rise up and stand tall against the barriers that keep us apart. Rub out any doubt of resistances, fear no friction, emerge from the darkness and come forth into the light with everything you've got. Innocent lust is really trust, the most precious gift of all. Burst into each other with the passion of children finding magic for the first time.

And in the end... the love you save... is equal to the love... you gave...

A few who might understand, somewhere...             What melon?

Today was a day like any other day, except it hasn't happened yet. Overnight, a vision came to me, and I slept on it, comfortably, peacefully, wonderfully. Maybe it was listening to the singer above last night, or memories of peaches on beaches, or reading green eggs and lox by rabbi seuss, or one fish, two fish, red fish, jew fish, gefilte fish, also by rabbi seuss.

Please continue. I have almost given up on being completely understood in this life, in spite of being the simplest person I know. Perhaps it is all the layers of mazes I surround myself with without even trying. The perils of genius in this society include death and irrelevance. I'd choose the latter, given a choice. That way nobody would ever know unless they came very close and listened very hard, in word you might get what you came for. Does it lead to wonder for you too? If not, it's ok, most people try very hard to be like everybody else even as they claim uniqueness and they craving to belong and conform overwhelms any notion of true freedom even as the tell themselves they fight for independence.

Perhaps it was the Cheetos diet.

As Lenny Bruce ever said, intelligence is the opiate of the masses, which would have been quite wrong, if he did, but George Carlin was the genius of our times, and noone replaced him, yet. Harry Chapin, John Denver, a little Bob Marley, and a lot of John Lennon, recognizing genius in a sunflower and humanity in a field of poppies, while the rest of us have grown fat and lazy, living in lands of make-believe trying no to let it show, delusions for the win and everybody loses, the voices of reasons have all be shot or otherwise eliminated. Might as well jump off the Golden Gate and let the sea take us to a better place, or the Verrazano, for that matter, as if such a better place exists. Somewhere, somehow, somewhere...

Madness is just another way of enjoying life in this world. No wait, seriously, just look at this! Yeah, there used to be comments. I choose madness of the harmless variety, being of the fat and lazy clan, there is the luxury of time for distraction and folly, as it allows relative freedom of movement among the normals without much detection. As depression fucks us up the ass, not in a gay way, but as used and discarded trash, sensitivity dies before we do, is it any wonder we are fixated by zombie stories? Happy Halloween, you filthy animal.

More Cheetos (thought not just those, Palmetto cheese, mayo, and ff turkey sandwich and shrimp rolls with extra shrimps and sweet potato chips and chocolate milk and chocolate mousse and... did I mentions I've been exceptionally suicidal lately? Send in the clowns for an intervention. I want more chocolate milk, but the store just closed and I don't feel like driving further and so, water. The mouth wants stimulation and there's no one around to kiss, so food is the stimulation for tonight. I wouldn't kiss most people anyway, too many cooties. Even people without cooties who make my libido drool would have to spend time with me to prove they don't have the cooties. It you're not laughing, you probably have cooties.

There is altogether not enough inappropriate laughter in this world today. In fact, there are signs that I have given up on this life more and more. Not going to the gym, not buying the elliptical, not keeping the weight under 180, and letting the body get old... ooooo, so serious (and that last link was for the blind lazy fools without time or too cool,you know, the ones who don't click on the links within the links within the links, and so on, down down down, where your dreams are found,or something like that). Pass the Cheetos. But no one takes me seriously anymore, and I'm almost never serious because my seriousness scares people away, always has, because it is too real for human beings at this point in their development.

Humors Humours, or Humans?

Some titles lead to nowhere, sometimes, and sometimes, the genius is obscured by the words. Chose carefully as you wander into the breach, as the edge of the abyss is only your friend if you let love rise above fear and trust the universal nothingness to bring you home. Imaginary neverland of eternal bliss, a left at Albuquerque, and exit, stage left. You know, heaven's to mergatroid was never like this. Left to wonder, is she me? Or is she someone I used to be? Carelessly left adrift upon the cyber sea, laughing at the mystery of what was and what could be, if only you'd say, if only you'd see, oh say... can you? See?

So long ago, so far away, I just to laugh, while other'd play. Calvin said it well: Calvin: Why isn’t my life like a situation comedy? Why don’t I have a bunch of friends with nothing better to do but drop by and instigate wacky adventures? Why aren’t my conversations peppered with spontaneous witticisms? Why don’t my friends demonstrate heartfelt concern for my well-being when I have problems?… I gotta get my life some writers.

Or even better,

Is loneliness is pretense of those who stay hidden?

Speaking of misunderstood humor (did we rinse and repeat?), I have almost given up on being completely understood in this life (maybe, but it's good to be clean, no?), but then, sometimes reality is more than lament, sometimes it is just real. It is all a matter of perspective, after all.

So I wonder, did you just hack me for some reason?

To all the hackers I've never known (or girls I've never loved before)... Where are you now? Boredom? Curiosity? Did you want to know something? Why not just ask? (too easy... or too scary?). Would you rather waste time alone in your room? Is it too comfortably numb to leave, even virtually? Are your interactions only superficial, professional, or commercial? Listen to this (I am not Mr. Ed),if you dare. No, silly fool, you can't access my webcam, unless I want you to If I let you, you'd find out that I too am one of the paranoid who put a bandaid over the lens.

Laughing all the way (not to the bank). Madness is not as haunting as reality. Just listen. Some nights as sad, but most nights, the melancholy smiles. Laughs, even. You could have known everything if you only asked. If you only cared enough to overcome your fears and let go. Control is just an illusion, like everything else, in case you didn't know.

Meanwhile, youtube distracts on to another plan of coincidence (call it what you will, empower whatever you will, it's your illusion too). O-M-G, look as song number three (rhyme for me, honestly... and I did not choose them, youtube did). You want more? Look at song number four. It's almost funny, you're killing me (smalls?... I never did related). Really?

Remember when entries made no sense unless you took the time to really read them again and again? The time you give is equal to the life you life. Love too.

We can still build that bridge, if you care. Do you dare?

And in case it matters, this one was justified.

Still, lol lam laa.

Narf :)