P H I L O S O P H I A

Monday, February 18, 2019

It is not nice to fool the mothers, boys! #ALTANT -->>Act Like There Ain't No Tomorrow!

#FearLoathingSpaceTimeNothingMoreNothingLess

#EventHorizonComing #Void #Empty

LOATHE SPACE’S TIME, GO DADDIO

Richard Joseph Stephan · Monday, February 18, 2019

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Eyes and lips uncovered for the entry of wind, light and sight I loathe the Space’s Time skid

Only because the matrix is out of my control, a random collection of kids, powerfully insane

Maybe evil, maybe good, maybe neither evil nor good, maybe an alien consciousness’ kid

A life form that has a need for earthly dynamics, food and water, like we do but inhumane.

Armed and dangerous with only the #Word to function as the tool to feed wood to the fire

Ignorance enlightened by the Truth, knowing about Nothing with a Divine sense of humor

To set oneself up for a trip of a lifetime, like no human’s ever experienced in history’s mire

Witnessed by nobody alive, blind faith in your leaders gets you burned, you vampire whore.

Now that I’ve lost those who can’t handle the truth due to the loathsome lexicon, away we go

Other than the feature you recollect before your conception, there is nothing like #FauxFates

You cannot make this up, google it or search your local university libraries or in a black hole

On Being the #Singularity, a solitary implosion warps Time and all of #Matter disintegrates.

You get to choose your space suit to protect you on the mission, the design is computerized

Like the multi-dimensional UFO traveling, dead aliens, captured, nurtured and euthanized

By the men in Black or the White brotherhood of secret societal, bully pulpit scat tweet of BS

No proof other than the Word, written by the Saints we trust would never bear false witness.

Have no doubts that your personal value to the Cosmos is minuscule and virtually invisible

Poor brothers and sisters, my cousins, kin and friend(s) I am here to be called full of bull

On the middle road, the path is lonely and dark but I squawk as the Eagle’s radar in flight

Responds to hunger for comfort food and You, it goes without saying, #EnjoyIt, you got it!

r j j stephan, i { I do not volunteer for the trip to #Mars but I have a friend... #TheJoker }

c. Monday February 18th, 2019 A.D. @ 9:11 AM PST

{ drafted while listenin’ to #MikeWallace Frank Lloyd Wright Romanza interview on youTube link #HITES on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/muoVqVZ7RlM }

FINIS #BlackHolesDoNotExist

#ALTANT

Sunday, February 17, 2019

What Would Ayn Rand Do #WWARD #Humuhumunukunukuapua'aa #Brexit

#MAGIC #NIRVANA #OTHERS ...

Richard Joseph Stephan · Sunday, February 17, 2019

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Smoke and mirrors now and then, all you need to explain yourself, a saga’s MF’n real Truth

No justice in the Truth regardless of it’s relation to the Fact that Nothing exists, so, forsooth

Now, of course there are no apologetics for the application of adaptable skills for God’s sake

If you don’t use it you will lose it, Time tested factoid, tattooed on your skin, a TV news fake.

If you are not an orphan then you may have to use your imagination for this but here y’all go

A light you see at the end of the birth canal tunnel is the first thing you get after the darkness

Pretending to go back to the light for a rebirth is the pablum of the masses, a fund for clueless

Midnight Special philanthropists send The Self to morgues of all too human funk, nail to toe.

Forces of pain and suffering that come from surviving well into your sixth decade, petrified

Memories of the Past and the Fear of the Future absolutely forcing You to overlook Presence

Being at this moment, not later and no sooner than the tick you recognize your Nature tense

Beast of Burden for a few orbits, lucky to have become a man on a street, fuckin’ sperm lied!

Let me say this about that after I light a smoke to get back the recollection I keep forgetting

It was right there at the tip of my tongue a tick-rock ago, amigos and amigas, no fretting

It may not be what we’ve come to understand, we may be alien-origin or maybe not, crash

I was on a private jet to see you, thought that I might never see you again, you got the rash!

I delivered the daily and weekly paper, I collected pennies and nickels for empty bottle return

I packed my pockets full of gum and candy at the leafcandy™ candy factory sour apple gum

Rode my Schwinn bike with handlebar streamers as fast as I could back home to safe house

More sugar to rot my teeth with decay from sugar lodged in the smell of my mouth’s gums.

In-taking and metabolizing the sensational gifts of this petri dish of rock and gas, sunshit

I mean sunshine, on the other hand, it is the refuse of the Origin after all is said, It’s victory

Cream of the crop or the utter echelon below the pit of Hades, a smell surrounding Hamlet

To be or not to be is never the only question, it’s the fool’s choice, Mercury, Venus or me!

r j j stephan, i

c. February 17, 2019 A.D. @ 7:77 AM PST

{ drafted while listenin’ & watchin’ Cake Nirvana Solana Nirvana on youTube links @ https://youtu.be/hTWKbfoikeg & Train @ https://youtu.be/7Xf-Lesrkuc }

W.W.A.R.D. ?

BlackAndBlue #Me2Or3 #SwampMusic

WITHOUT H2O, GRANDE, VENTI!

Richard Joseph Stephan · Sunday, February 17, 2019

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No straws because a straw was stuck in your nose and your tortoise was poster red dirt

Staged and pretended to be the reality of the universal empire of love’s transitory hold

Naked apes as they are, clothed, robed, covered up hairless skin, avoidin’ freezin’ cold

Waitin’ for the burn of the sun to be tamed by the shelter of trees and bush in a desert.

Now dig this, I ain’t the one you thought I was the moment you saw and felt me, not at all

My 208 bones roam the prairie and ocean coasts up to the top of the volcanoes of St. Helen

The ash that fell to the Earth replenished the dreams of the ocean for the rocks of this roll

Around and around like it’s nobody’s business but it’s yours and it’s mine, over to you again.

People who were conceived and born that appear here and now for a s moment’s Time-Fate

Have absolutely no control over the direction of their own personal genome, it’s matrix Vast

Empty Void and everything of substance that made the first weapons for defense and a mate

Without mates, the species fails it’s evolutionary thrust to adapt to the future before it is past.

So, there’s plastic made from the oil fields in the Earth and the plastic is not #Recyclable, duh

You can’t make the plastic straws disappear, they are in piles waitin’ to be zapped by God, uh

Wait until you want to suck your liquid without touchin’ the plastic and porcelain to my tea

No ma and pa left to put me back in my place which BTW is anywhere at all I ever wanna be.

Subtract the volume of the Earth’s mixture of H2O, polluted, salt or fresh, liquidated totally

The form of our poor planet’s not the beautiful squashed, blue marble look-a-like you hillbilly

Play the banjo, blow the pipes full of your hot air-wind, beat the skins until the cows unmilk

Music is the piccolo and flute of the leaders of the pack, the runners of the run, hot black silk.

If you never get to read about it you’ll never know what will certainly stalk you, it’s funny fun

In the olden days, days of Old, the so distant past, things would soon be all done, atom to One

Paradise in the mind of readers of books, hard rockin’ #Walls of a privileged mother, #Sonny

From being too late for a starlit exit door, I can recall, MY SON, it Is the Sun, it’s yo’ #Daddy!