corncobconfessions

I am simple, an am good with that why would I not? after all simple is nontaxable on one, nothing sneaks up on simple what would be the point? simple is not sneak-up-able writing this, I realize how lucky I am just by being simple. are you simple like me? or are you so very complex you find yourself lost in that gray mist of complexity? terrible and irreversible; struggling to maintain one's sanity. world out of focus. violent episodes crashing down. hard, unbreakable views. wantonness, wrongfulness. manipulation of weakness. harsh reality, world on fire. scrambling up, sheer. adrenaline pumping, hard. a power uncompromising  by small minded ridicule. and behind the scenes, what there lies waiting. tame but so damned wild. capture ratio infinite to probable. now finished barking like so hysterical rogue fool. and from the precipice, a sudden screaming ensues. finally comfortable in one's own skin. no need for anything scr

of particular interest not anything particular yet door remains open welcoming most any promising surprise to enter enter some psychobabble formaldehyde on the side got the makings for one hell of a party, not to mention  one hell of a surprise. massive gyroscope rotating, circling, dancing. bizarre kinetic energy. faster, faster, faster still volatile motivation. performance like none other. and there I was, a duck out of water. and all around me chickens, chickens, chickens. more and more chickens. all that clucking could drive an out of water duck  crazy, crazy, crazy! damned chickens!  all that damned clucking! there is no justice; not for ducks out of water. like a monkey, chasing itself up a tree is how my day went. how did your day go? any monkey business? any funny business? am too old to worry over old mistakes. screaming out for recognition. fitting in; somewh

doing nothing better than nothing ever does, better than nothing. can't stand doing nothing with so much needing done shoot for the moon, missed. ended p broke and destitute. but fool is a what fool is. stand and watch this old fool show yah how foolish is done. gravity is a wonderful thing. without gravity, we'd all become just more space junk, floating around more in space, lost and disillusioned. drifting in the big wide universe.  going nowhere slow and easy. a million years, more and easy. a million years, more or less. we should say a cheer for gravity; hip-hip-hooray, gravity! from Unique News my computer thinks I'm a dummy.  hi, I am not  famous, and this is not a commercial. 

coming face to face with one's mortality, everything changes. nothing will ever be the same; nor could be expected to. previous rules go out the window. there are no new rules. seems quite pointless making new rules. mortality calls all the shots. not to mention   a black-hearted lover in a mansion on a hill no, we won't mention that just stirs up bad memories and he ended up flat-broke living in a shanty in a hole living on anxiety meds no, let's not mention that at all.

good humor boys have left the building. have run out of good humor, bad humor, or just plain good old fashion humor; no longer able to pay their rent.  there are many crazies we meet through life's dizzy journey. and during my dreams, have  come to realize I'm one of these. this should be alarming, on many cryptic levels, but strangely find this quite exhilarating, and hope to capture the essence, allowing myself the rights granted all our craziest crazies. just one more crazy, me,  should not throw crazy balance  out of control.  into the night we go night that calls us so calling us home into the night we must go there to dwell night calling us home

no genius here, but saw one just the other day. knew he was a genius by the way he talked, walked and spit.  geniuses have this unique way of spitting. their spit never touches anything. spit just seems to disappear soon as leaving their lips. make of this how you want but this is what, and all there is. whether you still love me after this, well, that's entirely up to you, isn't it? ding-dong club meets irregularly on days of days. and tomorrow, ding-dongs, is one of those days of days. a meeting with only one does not a meeting make! everyone of you ding-dongs best be there or ding-dong privileges will be revoked. hate being at meeting alone! geez, what's wrong with ding-dongs? where's your sense of honor?

there is one and one more, with a chance of many more, should creek not rise screwing up a good thing going. and that damned cold wind blowing it all to hell and back; leading to haphazardness  and a spanking by a witch. we all know sun rises in morning, sets every evening. what we do not know: when sun finally goes dark, whether implode, explode, this cozy little solar system, we now call  home, will immediately become extinct. try not think too hard on it. sweet dreams and peace.  coffee news