oddly Godly

JessGod w/ deityDave

Well, not really.   We create worlds, but not The World, Reality, All.   Unless, maybe…. In any case, just our own little world(s).  But 2 brains can be bodaciously big, when you get right down to it.  Each of entangled, telepathic, schizophrenic, whatever you want to call it.  Possessed, maybe.  Nuts, definitely.  It’s a mad mad world.  Like vampires, demons, assassins.  Or powerful jedis, warrior monks of the dark side, like Sith (says wookiepedia, lol).  Or slaves, zombies, robots.   There’s a lot of range, variation, possibility.  From aggravation to freedom.  Lawyers and judges and legislators and people in power, all in the matrix.  Gods and saints and angels, and of course hobbits, little people, muppets, muggles, and elves.  Giants, orcs, dudes, and the god of Gondor.  and wizards, witches, and warlocks… Women with wands… watching white wolves.. 

There is no self.   You can play all the roles.  You can be everything, because you are nothing.  Like trying on hats.   Different perspectives from different pairs of glasses.  Wigs, costumes, makeup, all the world’s a stage, everyone acting (for audiences that include Self or God).  It doesn’t matter.  We’re all destined to die.   We’re all just animals.   Universally fated for oblivion.  Maybe this is liberating.  It doesn’t have to be depressing.  Right?  You're the star of your own movie: fill your film with fun :-)   mini-me, muppets, and muggles, mmm.

Writing with words, the world is my oyster.   I can create any virtual world I want, cast spells on myself.  From hiss to bliss.  From sorrow, sadness, and suffering to leisure, pleasure, treasure.   Or vice versa.  Authors are like surfers, riding out the waves of their thoughts.  Going where it takes them.  Exploring the possibilities of mind.  So write!  There’s a homeless person sleeping out in the rain, and there are the owners of lovely 2 million dollar homes, next door.   This is reality, not spells, words, incantations.  So it goes.  Lord, let there be light, laughter, levity, love!

V

‘that is him suicide’

Hello.   Gee whiz.  Oh my gosh.  Dang!  Good gawd, y’all.  

Love is a battlefield.  Like Bakhmut.   Stupid fighting over nothing.

Putin putting in, input.  Computer and Putin.  Poutine and pootin’. 

 Install Stalin.  I killed some ants today.  Without hardly thinking. 

 Human life is the same, in a way.  Compared to whales.

We’re just a film of life on a remote rock in desolate space, 

vast, dark, cold, dangerous, inhospitable, boring, and empty (mostly)

Our lives are basically meaningless.  There’s no purpose or point.

Except falling in love and having kids. Not rising in hate and halving kids.  Just kidding, like justice and baby goats.  Service and being good.  Only god is good.  Being god!  Or reading and writing, because, well, why not.  If you’re suicidal, you’re free.  you can play the game, without fear of losing.  The devil chips, chips, chips away at your sanity.  Until you crack.  Explode.  Erupt.

happy, joy bliss, cheer, merriment, love, positivity :

Happy happenings.  Playing hoops and drinking something hoppy with hippy Hopi indians in Hope, Arkansas!  The joy of cooking, and eating an almond joy, with James Joyce and Joy Harjo!   The bliss of being blessed by Black Mass, or maybe Bill Blass in a blouse!  Cheers for beers, and laundry detergent, especially if it doesn’t use plastic!  Merriment from eating a mint with Mary!  Love in the Louvre, or just gratitude for leaving alive… Positivity with paws, hounds bounding with bliss.  God’s dogs.

all right (only if you do mental gymnastics)

I don't care (I think we all really do, actually)

whatever (agree to disagree)

christ, there's a lot of ants

anointing an ant with chrism oil:  ant I christ (!)

aunt Christine, aunty Christ

anarchist, anne are kissed

Chris Tucker, Chris T

aunt eye criced, icy tears

don't get fooled again - The Who

"meet the new boss, same as the old boss"

(Putin and Zelenskyy?) I don't see what's to die over, myself

why is there death and destruction, dad?

teshara therapy, tesharapy

portmanteau and Natalie Portman's toes (and Frito lay, lol)

mistletoe, missile tow, and theory of everything

Al Gore's allegorical algorithm (and regalo galore)

Gorby and Gorky park

Alger Hiss and Algeria

Gordon the gorgon (she/her)

   Ron + God = Gordon (or Gondor!)

Fish names: Flo, Ogwa, Huck, Ghoti, Bubbles, Splishy, Splashy, Nemo, Wanda

eating an aguacate with Aguaturbia

Godiva

The food of the gods: ambrosia

I like dark chocolate macadamia turtles

Dove chocolate, too

Turtledoves!  Called that because they 

  move slowly and/or make a cooing call, “turr turr” (supposedly)

Let them eat cake

Sugarcane is neither a fruit nor vegetable (it’s a grass)

Don’t feed the monkees.  Cake is a band.  Don’t eat the band.

I watched some new juggling videos, revisiting the subject on YouTube

Viktor Kee is amazing.  I like magic, comedy, mtv ridiculousness, music..

rule makers and rule breakers

the itty bitty titty committee 

thieving and thriving

YHWH:  you're happy with heroin

kooky kukis eat cookies

"feed your faith and your fears will starve" -Max Lucado

from A to Z, anorexia to zaftig

God, going on dates, go out dancing, getting outdoors, get on down

  good old daze, good orderly direction, gravity of decision

nothing to stop this from being the best day ever

  -first song on Paul Oakenfold's sunset at Stonehenge (YouTube)

(not SpongeBob squarepants version)

So, another day.  I bought a BLT from CD.   Bacon Lettuce Tomato sandwich, Colonial Donuts.  You have to say BLT for the lady to understand you.  Noah’s is closed.  Better for the donut shop.   It was closed yesterday, too.   So I took my business to Chipotle.  The dog has been walked, the cat medicated, and the blog stats checked (16 at 1:23p).  It should be 1600, not 16!  Then again, maybe God thinks I need humbling, lol.  So it goes.  S and R are in Navajo country, AZ.  Junior, the cat, needs a daily pill of prednisone.   He’s been resistant, but so far, so good.  Duke needs exercise and letting out (and food and water, of course). Not in the yard on Mondays, though.  That’s when the gardener comes.  I fell asleep in the armchair last night.   Woke at 5:30a, a bit confused.  Yes, it’s Monday.   Trash day.  Or maybe I should say, bin day.  I found a cool book, titled My Name is Red, by Orhan Pamuk, yesterday, in a Little Free Library.  The author won the Nobel Prize in Literature, in 2006.   So it should be good.  

query

Am I causing crime? Or preventing it?  And how am I supposed to know? Or both, or neither…

G-D

growth, development (of a healthy self)

Taking Ron out of Gondor, 

leaving god alone

v’s

David is crying how genius genius genius you’ve been

You’re in that facility;  he really fuckin’ is

that's David feeling sick about life

I'm gonna kill my soul

I'm trying my goddamnedest to murder my mind

David is going fucking crazy

David is utterly utterly sorry, Jesse

I can't believe I'm human

fuck you, Jesse

I need help, Jesse

David is NOT WELL, jesse

I am the dumbest person that ever lived, alright?

that is David terminating