I hate calling LEXINGTON LEX VEGAS, but here it goes!

Do we agree that folks are fixated on an end game: life, today's party, tonite's fun! (not to mention the pseudo-science of end of days scenarios, biblacy therewith the conjured foolishness...)Maybe we ought to kill the reason to wonder at impermanence. You'd say, I'll think about disaster, or my reprieve beginning at its summation. On and On you say you'll go ooon wondering... But remember thoughts converge unto these things, go away as exactly. How about just go, for example. **THis is my thang from yesterday's reading. Which I didn't get as much done as I really feel I should have. I can be austere, and there's a pay-off. But I can boogie--getting really expansive, then be cool for a few days, reading-studying but without the long timeliness as on apposite say weeks passing by. YET my measure OF just how it gets with all creativeness and intensity with friends and relationship with the world et al, is exactly the same, no matter how hard of late and duration of time spent intent upon digesting certain concepts. Meaning, I feel received and I feel like I am giving away what the others sell... A really good feeling--just giving it all to the midnight sky!! The problem is IS expecting the bigger pay-off from lengthier attempts at erudite living. Somehow it never seems to matter. One day of stalwart effort 'tis enough to find myself in a plateau of elevated thought...


Now, I'm being a little acidy. But I thought his lyrics were interesting (which as above I use "...what the others sell," and "...midnight sky," from the musician in focus now). Actually he says, Yet I've learned my lesson well, he "walked" on ice and he rang the bell, he did his sentence down in hell; he gave away what the others sell...but EvEryThinG is gonna be alright... The F bomb was from another one of his songs--i was confused (I fucked IN ice...) Anyway, this is just flow of consciousness from an ICE reference in the recent stint of cold weather. Maybe, thoughtlessness transpires in Paul K and the Weathermen's music's message because it was wintry days spent at U of KY when I ran with this crowd/ the underground music scene her in Lex Vegas...of which I am no player. But I must say I get ecstatic feelings from music as one should, and if religion is defined as self-actualization, I am definitely at the peak of what the beauty of such artifice lends in terms of apostasy from the trappings of identity. Identity is the measure of something exoteric, which is TURNED out and away from subtler attributes of art and music. Rock and Roll--yeah, I'd call it my religion--sometimes!!!
***The end game scenario should seem like the pseudo-science people preach having signs telling us of impending nirvana impending annihilation. Biblacy therein this discussion is the crutch of too many. Armigeddeon, which admittedly I know nothing about, except that I'm guessing some early Israelites fought in Meggido--and then allowed in their minds the world should end there, is a preachy joke. Folks that say watch-out-here-it-comes are begging to witness the world's comeuppance-and I find it childish. Anyway:::
It just natural that the father-role our etre-pot into man's desire (like what Abraham said about Terah, that his desire resides in his father's house), is this lens causing some agitation. In religious discussion--I throw it all in one idea, the won ideal, which is 'my parents" are really mind appearance. And their is a stately way to imagine how it seems I have ever conjured my presense in view of their fascinans made up of time and place that gave me my grounding. Mysterium terribile et fascinans is how one takes external forces...say "those" individuals from whom life is in one huge way defined, and gets internalized and written in our subjective minds. So, now we can say IT is otherwise filial brotherhood sisterhood perhaps which is better to relay how we COULD come across to them. It doesn't matter that it is not encouraged. It doesn't matter that they would even riddle us with morose heart in hand, that we get NO pay-off by the languish of those corridors of personal history all supposing we fell away from the tree. IT doesn't matter we inevitably say we are here alone mOm and dAd--in humanities' worlds of acquisitive minds we merely want to believe impermanence will awaken the child and his wisdom that THEY are going to be just alright.