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2009-04-10 - 3:36 a.m. remember candora? i will expand and contrast, delineate and extrapolate, invigorate and consummate, if you let me, the suckling of your dreams, the magic of your bus, the mystery of your tour� i will reach your nirvana, your shangra-la, your eldorado, your secret passion even you hide from yourself everywhere except your deepest dreams� i will diffuse you, amuse, you confuse you, infuse you with such flair that you�ll be freed from all your fear and understand, you will become aware that there is only love without your fear (oh, the self-mocking ego is so much fun, nyuk, nyuk)�
or putting hot colors in your hair or jumping off a bridge on a rubber band or building a castle out of nothing but sand oh yeah, that�s the ticket out of the sticky wicket of doldrum diving and just surviving to begin thriving in life arriving at sweet nirvana (sexy bwuana) because you wanna (marijuana?) understand desire can take you higher when you let it inspire and embrace your fire when you really care you can start to share (without fear, be aware) the beautiful high of just knowing why you are being you to yourself be true beyond all clich�s you make happy days and enchanting nights by using your rights to choose to be free from insecurity and fear of everything as if you were king a good king a nice king a strong king a wise king who knows how to sing who knows everything who knows the way to peace and happiness is to challenge yourself to do your best so you can know inside that you will not be denied and you can take true pride in knowing what makes life a thrill ride� or putting hot colors in your hair or jumping off a bridge on a rubber band or building a castle out of nothing but sand nothing but sand� nothing but sand� nothing but sand� life is� nothing but sand� yeah, life�s a beach and then you die, cha cha cha� when the people in the real world around me don�t care, i come here� i come here� when the people in the real world around me don�t share, i come here� i come here� when the people in the real world around me don�t know how i feel what i want or why my smile grows, i come here where i can care and share, even when nobody�s here (even when nobody�s there)� i come here to remind me i�m aware� love is everywhere, as is despair� and you choose what is real for you and what you share� here i share, here i care, here i�m here� when there�s no one anywhere near, i am here, i come here, i come here� and loving every minute of it� so what�s up dude?... i mean, what are you up to?... getting down with your bad self?... hurting so good?... exploring the extremities of linguistic confabulations? (oh wait, that�s me� but then, you�re the one reading, so maybe it�s you too� omigosh, are we� sharing?... are those goose bumps you�re wearing?... well don�t believe everything you read, after all, next they�ll be telling you to paint your fat brown and sit in a freezer and you�ll lose weight� or you could wonder why your navy is spread so thin or just too busy to protect your interests (too busy protecting big business crimes?... hiding in plain sight?... gotta keep the gas flowing, after all)� frogs have more sense� and now, for the next random thought (did i just nod off?... what?... where did that thought come from?), cauckahoo or cauckahoop, that is the questions� where it is one or the other, that is redundant� but at least we�re not zarbads� yeah, zarbads are those creeps who leak people�s personal stuff to the press cuz they (the zarbads) have no respect for privacy and know the truth is that most people are into masturbatory fantasies turned on by watching other people�s misery (naked, physically, emotionally, or psychologically, you see� the crowd gathers �round gawking shamelessly, car accident or humiliation, it�s that adrenaline rush sensation that comes from thinking better you than i when the bomb drops out of the clear blue sky)� to conquer death you only have to die� so how�s it going bro?... i mean, what do you know?... what�s up with your show?... how does your garden grow?... the unit� the fringe� the dollhouse� the binge� the rumour� the twinge� the comma� the hinge� you could have been, you should have been, you would have been the fire� or the singe� yeah, you could be the life of the party or you could be the puppet shark� or even, a� land shark!� and then, one might as the burning question, was chevy chase ever as funny as robin williams?... or, to be more specific, who was the most amusing saturday night live person� character or actual actor-type person?... well, that isn�t the question, but it is, as Johnny five would say, a poser� now isn�t it?... not to mean a fake, fool� and yet, truth be told, or made up from whole cloth, for that matter, there is really so much seriousness and random RealTime� real life rambling waiting in the scribble files (scattered pages?... so� soo, long ago� was it all a dream?... seems so very e-the-real to me) for uploading here, there, and everywhere babble appears in my web world, but here i am creating whatever this is as if there is nothing to do, editor-wise, and that reminds me (sleep?... there�ll be time enough for sleeping come tomorrow) of my longing, my pining, my dream of finding a word-lover with the skill, patience, strength, stubbornness (stubbornness?... oh my, not that again)� jonathan winters started it all, you know� or was that w.c. fields?... maybe, but steve martin seems to have taken the twelve steps a little too seriously (i mean, he was much funnier when he was younger, aye, but that�s just one maniac�s opinion who believes in free-range comedy� the mind has no boundaries, after all)� but do you really get craig ferguson?... yeah, name dropping�s da bomb� imagine saying that on a plane, you might get arrested� imagine the donald trump yelling you�re fired in a crowded movie theatre� better emphasize the d, duh� and somewhere in the mind of the fool wandering through the wilderness of loneliness and imagination there�s a silent voice wondering (not actually saying, you see) if all this (written gardens of the babbling persuasions) would be absolutely hysterical spoken (presented, performed, actually) with just the right comedic timing and then, as with any revelation, the voice laughs and realizes that anything is absolutely hysterical (or insane� or offensive, even, but that�s besides the point for the moment) spoken with just the right comedic timing� shhhhh, now you�re telling secrets... remember when we had late night masturbatory fantasies?... when did comedy replace sex, anyway?... what?... where did that come from?... well, wherever it came from, let it roll� so is it natural for the sense of humor to replace the libido somewhere along the lifeline?... wow, is that a serious question?... well, i suppose it may be from the libido�s perspective, aye?� or the genitals, perhaps� or the skin, cuz the skin is the largest sex organ, you know� yes, larger than the brain, i think (therefore i orgasm?)� physically, that is� what?... you ask� what does that mean? (physically, that is, that is)� well, the largest physical sex organ is the skin, yes, but the largest sex organ?... anybody?... anybody?... come on, you know� the largest sex organ is, of course, the imagination� of course it could be a guitar or anything, after all� even an orchestra� but organ is somehow more, oh, so much more titillating, somehow� like come on baby touch my organ� baby you can drive my organ� i want to hear your organ deep inside my cochlea� oh, that could be awkward� wasn�t that a family guy episode?... yeah, stewie likes it just below his coccyx� but what does worldwide pants mean, really?... it mean, truth be told, that there is almost nothing that cannot be amusing (go ahead, challenge yourself, you�ll laugh at your uptight fear of laughter after you die) but worse, there really is nothing on late night tv anymore� now that is serious� not even decent reruns� just sadly patronizing infomercials� consumerism loves company, or something like that� much better to play the organ� you know what i mean has anybody touched you in the way that melts you like ice cream you know what i mean has anybody touched you in the way you know when you touch yourself and make yourself scream (insert sensual screaming) has anybody touched you in the way you want to be touched like no one�s ever seen you know what i mean you know what i mean the way you�re touched in your dreams well, i can do it if you really want me to let me, know you, let me, show you, let me, touch you, let me� and it is my gift to you wow, this is almost remembrances of behind the candoor, isn�t it?... or deeper, even� yeah, wish you were here if you really know what i mean� maybe you want the pope to wash your feet, i mean, it takes all kinds of kinky to make up the new world order, after all� like a humpback whale swimming around new york city, you can be turned on by whatever turns you on, your choice, whether you know it (or own it) or not� and if you know, if you really let yourself know, then you are halfway there� the other half is doing it and then, sharing it doubles the intensity, even exponentially increases it when you take it to the limit one more time and then, reach beyond, and you know� life is the thrill ride� understand?... life is the thrill ride made of nothing but sand� remember candora?...
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