Capitiol Records

I have experienced a lot of coincidences from my perspective, not really lately, but, to an increased degree having to do with, “people wanting freedom”, since death has a meaning for being free, they do not really know.  Mine’s a couple of years now, akin to Michael Douglas’ time.  Remember when he got cancer from smoking cigarrettes?  It’s just coincidental, certainly not mental retardation on my part; schizophrenia if you would really prefer that, as long as you can detect schizophrenia through its roots, not the word of a simpleton who babbles about stuff he doesn’t even know.  For instance, if one even knows, one knows how many steps they take after being bitten by a Krait.  The rest we must free to be spat at by a cobra in the eyes.  We have that powerful of a connection to ideas.  The crystal nascence only appears by word once.

Those damn words can get tangled up.  I have been anticipating dementia.  People may think I am losing it, but, blowing it is more germain, where, by placing an observer on the ceiling overhead, we can certainly see how thinking is the government, and, plausibly it is the military’s fault for all those subsequent scenes of destruction.  I just had to hear from people teasing me and not get mad.  You have to take it down a notch when you are cross with your kid.  I saw Nicholas’ lip start to quiver, so I let him be.  I have a button now, if I can array imaginary people around me; the coincidences are further elaborated as in the humor of sprites.

I am here in Starbucks.  It was playing Christmas music when I started coming.  I listened today—it has a jazz trumpet with a mute—, and I chose, “Send in the Clowns”, from a few errant notes when I first came in.  I knew I was coming.  A few notes gives you the song, a song gives you the beginning, but, life is quickly snatches from a certain scheduled impetii.  You have to alert to the context, which is in mind.  The beginnings don’t work.  It’s pretty much affine scaling to absolute time and elapsed time, making up a true timing paradigm.

So, what are the correct numbers?

Hmm, I will go with the word count, 377, being found again.  It’s on my license plate.

Let’s see, five minutes ago is a condition, this existed such that it is past a second five-minute slant now; I’m late.  I’ll start, then.

Half the battery.  I’m not going to do a larger number of things, ie no pictures, no blog management, no chemistry.

Well, wait.  This 4-fluromethamphetamine says there is chemistry.  Unfortunately, it is the classified kind of information.  Get RC on Google and you will be up with me.

I had a delusion-free morning (until I fed the peanuts to the pink elephant), which reminds me, since I did not write that word, “elephant”, so much as a sprite rode it down to the keyboard, these folks in Starbucks are of a style who work and think in terms of the fifteen minutes they are owed to sit down.  They aren’t destroying themselves like in the song, they’re merely smoking a cigarette watching the fifteen minutes’ extinction.  “one hour ten minutes remaining”, so, that’s a plus.  It’s just no longer very true.

There was the radio in the car.  It said, “Dynamite with a laser beam”.  I had just remarked to myself, “this is my Christmas.”  I had not thought of it as Christmas presents, but, this blog is a goof in exactly that direction, toward the little experiments.

I attempted to start thinking indiscriminately, propping up reality given that I had a load off my  mind where my ex-wife may not be bumming rides, to do with the conclusion of this marathon divorce.  My poker hand shows a possible fatherhood with my son.  This wife was more seasoned, and, despite initial misgivings, I give her credit.  I began, “I have bought three rings.” It was not words from a song, this time it was words floating in the air.  It was really words from the crew at Starbucks.  Watch, I’ll go see what words they use.  I have to buy coffee to sit here, after all.  Of course, if behind them stands a director, a demon one, he could have a proxy as, “my guys”, working here.  I’m talking telepathy.  I’ll soon go jerk their chain on the slave collar.  Now the music is saying, “I think I can cope with whatever in your head (Very well, Superwoman.  Oh, that’s Steveland Wonder.  “And I think I can deal with everything going through ya _______.”

The words asked me what I wanted, saying, “What can I get for you?”, …thinking how it was when I replaced the aquamarine in Elizabeth’s apartment.  You always check to see who is stealing out of the corner of your eye; has something to do with treachery.

I bought three rings (“tomorrow to reflect”), an emerald, a ruby, the blue one, too.  What can I get for you (just a suggestion (more like a command), make the diamonds synthetic)?

They’re playing the strains of, “Take it to the Limit”, but, it is saying, “if you don’t know me by now.”  Yeah, I know the song you plagiarized.  What happened, did the Italians join up with the niggers’ mafia and you can say you know what’s right and wrong, the difference?  I don’t think you do.

My title comes from 1992.  I love, by the way, that Yoko Ono is on Twitter.  Here, I was writing to Paul McCartney.  My hand felt dissociated from the body.  “hand, move to the address block.  I can say I told you so.  Hmm.  I told it to do so.  Come on.”  The hand returned as the address coalesced:  Capitiol Records?  No, it’s just the pencil coming off the “t” high, and going to the “o”.  Looks like an “i” got in.  Changed the whole meaning.  Do we wish to break records?  Well, in the case of the human beings of flesh and blood, it appears that 140 million are dead in the last century’s warfare.  Our zero point is what, 120 million?  Tie that, but, you are cheated.  with five times more souls, we need five times more death to keep it in harmony.

I have a cleric’s collar in the car with some songs referenced on it.  I’m just going to leave instead.  I’m not a retriever.  I acheived a new car today; the apogee of wealth transfer from my elderly parents.  Thanks, Dad.  That Elizabeth Taylor was really something.

1105 to the 11:02, baby Abe.


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