while it continues gaga with dada of itself reforming itself each and every moment he sits here down in the bunker wondering what the fuck about it all.
it's all as if it were true while he knows he is dreaming like the mad god dreams laughing and screaming in the midst of the oblivion void of self-illusion.
and also upon the beach of the island in the eye of a storm raging on and otherwise calm sea which is humanity he watches the waves crashing pulled by the tides pulled by the moon.
smoking a cigarette.
coughing and farting at once.
he survives for now.
and then there is the machine everyone knows as nancy designed and built to destroy the world.
it's a joke no one gets.
the midwife to our cosmic birth out of our heads with it.
new worlds to gain.
we are the crown of creation and don't even know it as we squander our inheritance on the most mundane of everything we might imagine wallowing in our self-created pain and suffering and misery.
get it?
ha ha ha...
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