Friday, February 8, 2013

6195  Those who think they are realists because they blog about, about grounding appearances in the Collapsing Void somewhere out there in the Nowhere are clearly wrong.  The nothing-at-all will surely not brook such an attempt to substantial-eyes it.  Also, if I may be so  bold as to think my own thoughts, there is not one Reality before which or whom we must all bent our aching knee.  There are many.  Nor is there one past leading up to this moment nor one future leading out.  There are many.  That many is surely infinite.  And furthermore, none (not one speck) of that is merely the positing of forgetful minds or The Mad Absolute Mind, aka pure puerile consciousness or the (air)plane of immanence.  The whole fucking shebang in its appearing infinitude is real.  And when it finally breaks apart into all those shining ontological jewels that the narcissistic god who rules our days and nights puts on his cheek then  … then nothing.  We're paralyzed in amazement.  Void schmoid, he's right there hard and hardly collapsing.

Then, after the oblivion of orgasm has worn out and you have come back home from that job you sort of like and you sort of hate, he stands very tall and still in your darkened room and you just know you'll give in  one  more time. 

Bloggers are simply marking time with their magic marker until the next time.

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