Feeling sick? Time to see D.R.Lightwater
D.R. Lightwater make sad people blind, he make them grind and sweat in hot, slippery motions. Make them wriggle in stupid, happy jestures and rosewater breath that stinks like ichy flesh all covered in a melting substance. "Here, these will make you better." He holds out pills all purple yellow filled and made with exotic nightmare ponies, tiny colored whirlpools, mad faces and oozing, odd looking, everydayness.. To make sad people blind with. Take them, wake up. Tomorrow, Yesterday, This evening, I'm feeling sick, time to see D.R. Lightwater
Sadness is a burlap ovary that ovulates daily and is fertilized by passing strangers. Their faces, like amphibians, all cold and mucose covered, looking at you oddly with unseeing fishscale eyes, make you shiver dreary eyed and helpless. Felling sick ? See D.R. Lightwater

HE take the pill, sit, and write all woozy " Existence is what I am talking about.. Quite an unexpected situation. I mean the nowness of what is as we see it. By see I mean more than what vision aprehends, but also, the perception derived from it. As I stare into my coffee cup, I do not see a brown fluid all homogeniously mixed with little particles, but rather, I percieve what I see to be thus."... He is lost, like in a rainy afternoon when things are silent but for drippy silly rain, and sitting with some colored grimace, your flesh crawls and excretes a little extatic soul jism.. I see an exotic nightmare pony .. It make sad people blind with ...

Write " We see the nowness of what is in our preception of arrangements of what is, as we see it. And this is what I mean by existence, the being present for the presenting of the nowness of what is." D.R. Lightwater is tickled purple.. He reaches down and grabs a puppy, all stupid happy with rosewater breath that stink like ichy flesh covered in a melting substance.. We all love D.R.Lightwater.. even as he cuts the bowls out and ties a knot to hang the puppy by a hook.. hanging from it's bowls dripping with some oozy mucose.. looked at by strangers with amphibian faces..My sadness clenches, turns and writhes and whimpers like a sleeping dog... It ovulates and is fertelized by strangers.. I gestate boredome in the hard parts of my burlap ovary..
I writing "The being present is to be percieved in the nowness of what is, as we see it, and is indubitably to be brought forth in the presenting of what is. We are at once percieving and being percieved in the presenting of what is. Thus we arrive at our existence as we, ourselves, are now, in the nowness of what is as we see it and laid out before us in the presenting, we find ourselves in being present."
Writing ".. cunfusing purple colors spin around me glazing rooftopes and dirty cellars. Young people make made slimy moans and slide around on one another. Old things age and sick and guffaw like blinded sad people die in stupid pattering raindrops of hormone extacy..
Writing "There laid out before me, in the presencing, is the bare nakedness of what is, coated in the thick beguiling frame of everydayness. The frame that covers with arrangements of ideas.. The frame occupies and replaces what is brought forth in presencing and oe'rlays perception with obligation........"
Time to see D.R.Lightwater...............................