what's be happening?

and the thing of it continues.
all as if it might be something real and true before our eyes instead of just our imagination.
or what?

as the gods play on with us as their pieces in a game beyond our control yet we are given free will to decide our fate within it but only at their whim of what is and is not to be.
huh?

as he sits here wondering.
ha ha ha...

and what may be reveled for the one who is wise and/or insane enough to perceive as it all amounts to nothing as nothing is all there is except what we might imagine otherwise for our own amusement.
the mad god laughing and screaming in the void of its own existence creating this mad delusion that becomes the universe at large.
and who wants that in their head?
too many other things to attend to.
busy busy busy.

and all of us alone and lonely in a world not of our making but that we all participate in creating each in our small way in the mix of it all.
this devil's playground and our idle minds.

and he writes what is given to him to write about though it is all dada and then some.
the deliberate irrationality of it all as it might seem to be.
yahoo?

as he runs his fingers through his tangled hair and ponders his reflection in the maze of mirrors.
this solipsistic dream dreaming of itself dreaming.
lying on a pillowed bed in heaven never to be disturbed.

and as he sits in the garden beneath the tree of life eating the fruit thereof as he has been here now before and again and again waking from the nightmare of the knowledge of good and evil.
this mythical thing he imagines for himself for his own amusement from time to time.

and him and his confused thought that others seem to not understand or be amused by.
as he has been isolated from the herd while they go about running the world without his interference.
as he has willed it for himself to be.
as the war continues forever among them all about this and that and the other thing they never seem to be able to agree on one way or the other.
the war of nation against nation and within every household person to person.
oh boy.
ho-hum.

as he falls from dizzying heights like an angel from heaven.
as he lifts himself up from the dark depths like a demon from hell.
as he dances and sings.
as he falls down.
as he laughs.

as he just kinda hangs on beyond hope of anything happening at all that makes much sense or means shit to a tree.
be here now and all that jazz.
rubber chicken.

as the universe turns around in on itself and expanding outward into newer dimensions of being whatever it might happen to be.

but whatever...