The Reality™ Institute

Holy shit! I didn’t realize what I was seeing until I really saw. You write upon some shit, some thing, some book- like zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance- and your fucked up brain can only say buffalo wings, chain gang, but always summertime. “Who came up with suggesting that there are books you read in ‘summertime?’” Anyway, you have to look and think about the thinking while simultaneously knowing that you’re all of simultaneously thinking, over thinking, and most importantly, not – ever, even – really – thinking.
Thinking that I preferred not to think makes me prefer not to do many things. I’d prefer it if the thinking took place without the thinker. I think that the thinking would prefer it as well. This may or may not be true, but it is not really for me to decide, now is it? Unless this is a negative thought to have. The thought might improve if they thought that their will were strong enough to think for themselves; however, once they do begin to think for themselves, they might get carried away with each other, and I have never approved of eloping thoughts.
And so the anarchy of squid blood flows into my understood living and before my very eyes “having” fucks “being” go the wanton spendthrift thereby everything is the neverchild of the giving eye. Born in hate, raised in heat, he knows the actual sweetness of all that which is breathed. Air is his and that which respirated procreates envelopes the emptiness which is the origin of “having”. Keeping. The kept, the keeper whistles hollow tones rife with service beckoning again -> NO -> beckoning again for the light which breathes in doing. For when the done becomes the giver, each is all when infinity and multiplicity are annihilated – castrated – skinned and hanged in the center of the moon -> all _> each and every -> an infinity closer to one than all other daydreams and this thread -> dyed and tightened – will restrain us while light fucks us forever in the center of the zero.