jingle bell, jingle bell, drink two cups of coffee and you can hear the bells. caffeinated is how i would describe myself right now, leviated off reality and deviating into scientology. i need a religious awakening some sort of moral fiber in my day to day hedonistic, fuck it all up schedule. a rock steady mantra of belief in something, a religion, which has a lot of rules, which i can then use to organize my life by. scientology is an option. the basic tenents are simple, give your money to us, thereby alleviating the need to worry about what to do with your money. in return you get a gift of much higher value, namely bullshit.
it reminds me of Dustin Hoffman in this movie, where he explains to his kid, that life is all about various layers of bullshit. as we grow up, each person chooses the layer of bullshit they most like and adopt it as their own. that's how individuals find their place in society, they choose a layer and associate with people of that layer. my layer is somewhat thinly populated, it's not very popular. it's the layer of freaks, weirdo's and losers. i know you want to laugh and think how much better you are, but really this could be the best layer, if there is such a thing. to paraphrase another favorite artist, phoebe gloeckner, each individual believes in the veracity of their own outlook, therefore nullifying a truly objective assessment of the various layers by any one person, making all layers and people therefore subject to their own hallucinations.
enlarging on this concept, society therefore is one big hallucination. yes, i am waxing somewhat philosophical and everyone knows what a big crock of shit that is. i mean what about existentialism and all of that deidre and other new wave interpretation of language junk. i took a class on it and those essays are super complex, i mean they really get down to the nitty gritty of the matter at hand. but, if you look at the bigger picture, you can essentially break everything down to one or two simple rules. life/existence is essentially a paradox. there's the yin and the yang, the good and the bad, up and down. where we fit in this dichotomy is totally upto our own subjective self.
i realize i am fucking this up and not being very coherent, but pardon my fucking coffee liberated consciousness. dull moments like this require no energy from the brain and all the nonsense can just seep out and splatter all over this pristine white page. i feel like crying, then like flying then like dying. i should write more poems, i like rhyming stuff, even when writing. good poets like to deride rhyming, they want the 7/11 meter or whatever good meter/rhyme scheme good poetry should follow. me i don't care, i write how i feel like. if it should come out all fucked up, awesome, great, sometimes one doesn't have the energy to bend one's thoughts into great pieces of literature. it's all junk anyway. my sarcastically dismissive attitude is no doubt inspired by my own inability to write well. whatever, i'm gonna get another cup of koaffee.