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Offlinexeberdee
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Registered: 09/30/15
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Last seen: 8 years, 2 months
Amanita Muscaria - a dream.
    #22377297 - 10/14/15 07:53 AM (8 years, 3 months ago)

Backseat Driver

The twee went away, tis never to come back as miss piggy or as a steamroller. Why would it in the typewriter pool sound reality? It makes no sense to me or to it. I can look for other things too. If I wait a while, they will usually show themselves for what they really are. There are no hidden meanings – or didn’t you know? So it’s going to be a good show tonight. I bought a ticket – it’s exclusive, but everybody is welcome for complimentary drinks at the bar. The light is on, but nobody is home yet. Don’t worry, Mr and Mr’s Delight will appear as promised at the convenience of this dumb cabby.

In the taxi, I’m on the way – so many things to say and do meanwhile. Did I ever tell you about the time I dry ski rocketed out of a peninsula? It was a wing-dinger, every pocket full of pennies and every muscle twitching at the idea of finding something heavier in the lining. Soap is full of lies by the way – or is it BTW? It promises to clean us (echo – ‘to clean us’), but it never really does anything but treat the surface. Cleaning the soul, now that is the purpose of the next big thing. Anticipation is the name of the game. It’s twitching at the thought of it. When will it happen? I’m so looking forward to it. They were so delightful last time round. I believe that they have a show that is universal in scope. These two are just like opposites, but what a match. Made in heaven I believe.

To this designer I say go away. Who are you to imagine that your lonely ass could ever match the natural talent of the great duo? I say to you the great monad – are you not just a conscious dream of the dyad? Something that is crapable of their rambling she it? In the gnashing of teeth I hear the pain. Does this really offend you? My little ego friend? The ultimate singularity. Piss off back where you came from, you are a wanker mate (translates to a ‘poor mate’ – or if you are from the north of England, just a wanker). I heard you laughing. The great ego, with its dark, nerdy little chuckle.

Then or now. I heard the sharp machine like sound of an electric buzz that was twirled into a spiral of an ‘oink’. Is it starting some far off mechanism? Probably sad I’ll bet, but uninfected by my vitriol it negotiates a massive surface in some multi-dimensional space that I just don’t understand. Did I ever mention that I used my significant experience and knowledge of something to get me into an executive position at the place where I spend endless days displaying my superiority? NO? Well then my new friend, let’s get into the thick of it. There are obviously a great many things that you just don’t understand. It all seems to make no sense? – yes. You are still looking for it? – yes. You have found it? Yes. No? Well it doesn’t really matter anyway, so Ok – everything looks like it is in order here – and you are welcome. Everybody is welcome here (especially you my learned friend) to the very exclusive realm of the infinity of the mind. Can you feel the push of the hand? The breeze in the wind? Or is it just imagination? Onward.

There are two things I never do – one of which I can never remember, but is quite important I think. I should, if all was by the book, be equally encumbered by both. But, this is evidence of the invisible inconceivable power of the dyad – it is the dream we all share. If you are searching to focus, then you are missing a vital concept for this purpose. You are dead right clever in thinking that there is one unity, but it consists of three separate concepts. Ok so a prize for getting the right answer – you were close, it was odd. Confusion is always odd. I propose to you that YOU were the something or other that was important. Always odd, and oddly always lonely.

So where were we? Going to see the show, in a taxi, got sidetracked in a bit of doom and gloom, the driver is confused – where was it? Did I never tell you the address? Ok – so you know it? You do – oh how wonderful, we can continue. Where is it then? Tell me, can you? Sorry am I confusing you? Don’t let me stop you from doing your job – just do your bloody job! I’m just wallowing in the greatness of my significant dream ability. Idling on the backseat of my crystal vision and my awareness of the greater things in life. I am a visitor in the great city of the enlightened. I expect that all the lights are on and everybody is at home tonight for the beauty of our pleasure. Good, we’re moving.

Most of these gigs are great, but not every one’s a winner. I’ve seen some below average codswallop but I would still BOW at the feet of all those willing to entertain. Do you think me the cynic? What gives you that impression? I can’t even spell it. No. I am, as audience is, I demand an interview with all those responsible. The big picture demands that there is someone ultimately responsible for all this messy individualism. Does it not? How can anything band together to demand a collective handle? You really don’t know? I told you once already. Well let me tell you again but in a slightly different tone. Listen carefully. Are you ready? Ok - Debs dook in a good bik dwaore.

What is that nonsense? Well you get it? Right? Or is it the music? There is an element of it I’m told. The best acts always include it. Studied it for years myself, but I realised that the art is in the moment of it, and here was I with an idea that it included time and would come to me in some future with arms open crying ‘My learned friend’. Not such. You were led astray, by the young developing guru inside. So much time has flown and such is it sewn – into the fabric, unable to be de-stitched and there to stay. Show me then how I can tell you a story as the musician does, if I cannot yet understand and teach the moral of these loosely sewn rhymes? It’s definitely in the way to tell the tale, they say. Still – It’s not the only beauty in the string of the beautiful string of things. We are truly all blessed by the talents of the greatest show on earth and I can’t wait to see it. Where are we now?

On the way. The cabby is a shoddy little fellow lost in a dream of reality that includes the mundane and necessary art of driving a cab. Caught in the crime of idling at the wheel – but only for a couple of minutes as, according to his own admission, he would have to get on with the business of driving miss fucky-knickers to the ball. After all and when all is abandoned, the cab has no meaning at all. It submerges into a useless metaphor with no direction to follow.

Awake. At last, at the very edge of a near collision, we emerge at the wheel. Where is it we are going? Can somebody please tell me again – I know that it was ever so important, but I lost the thread for a couple of minutes. I emerged. Is that so bad? Do we not sleep every day? What is consciousness if we can’t abandon it? Am I truly awake – by asking all these crazy questions? Do I have something important to do? What if I discovered infinity in the time before the big moment?

I have time to spare – I realize it now brown cow. So now I don’t want to drive this cab any more little darling.

Fin – Applause – Curtain -  Complimentary drinks at the bar.


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