I am very sick. A virus to be sure. We haven't got any pain killers, or much food either. I can feel my stomach and intestine, distended with gases, my body growns autonimously. With every shift there comes a gurgle. My head is hot and my body is cold. My eyes can hardly stand the light. So here I lay, my body sick, shivering, gurgling and aching in the dark. My mind is stretched all thin and dumbly aches. If I lay with my eyes closed, I can make out some busy, noisy moitions in the peripheral of my vision. It is much like standing in a crouded busy hallway looking at the floor. Colors pass and change and there is a dull human sound that I can not make words from. It feels like it's outside of me in some closed space. All this randomeness is sensless, ugly. THe world is stretched and dumbly aches.

With the beating of my heart I feel the incessant dialations and contractions of my vessels. They pulsate through me sending trhobbing rhythmic tingles through my cells. this pen, the color of things, sounds and shapes of automobiles, my location in time and in space, everything around me and those that I call family or friend. Is it all not as Its like being high on Marijuana. I wonder if this sickness might kill me. I am perfectly comfortable with the thought of it. I have no regrets because I have no expectations. I smile in my death bed, haveing once lived and admittedly achieved and understood absolutely nothing. I wonder, could it all be random ?

This place is just a jumble of things, no more meaningfully, no.. no more carefully placed than a scrap of paper flung from an automobile. This house I am in, the shape of this pen, the colors of things, sound and shape of an automobile, my location in space and time, everything around me, the people I call family or friend. Is this not
arbitrary as the characters of an alphabet ? Existence is an unexpected situation, and isn't the idea that we are actually doing something just centimentality ? Does the idea that there can be progress, that there is some place to progress to, does it really make sense? Is where we go as arbitrary as where we started ? In the end It doesn't even matter............

When I think about humanity the best analogy I know is popcorn. All those kernels poping out and pouring into the bowl. There is no intention for one to be at bottom and another to be at the top. They simply end up some place and which ones get the butter poured on them, is really quite irrelivent. They willl all get eaten in the end anyway.
Humanity is a flesh supernova coalescing randomly into unspeakable patterns. Someone has to get the butter, does it really matter who ?
Is this reality chaos where everything is random and therefore all things are equal ? If so, then there is no need for expectation. It amounts to some kind of delusion. Expectations lead to suffering. Why want when nothing will change the fact that existence is a bleak emptyness searching, like all voids, to be filled ? Pride and Power are the obsurd projections of meaning where there is none. The dismal search for some state of things, as though, they are some way...It is as pointless to search from meaning in a random bunch of letters than it is to pretend there is some reason for any of this.

You are goin to die, that much is well known. On top of all of that, you are free to let go of care. Does it make sense to suffer in expectation, when, where you go is just as arbitrary as where you started ?.. appreciate, do not expect...

I am free to choose my actions. If I end up doing something that I don't want to do, then because I am responsible for the choices I have made, I must live with the fact that I am doing what I don't want only because I have made that choice. Am I weak when I give in to rules and regulations that I might not believe in ?.. I would say yes, and it makes as much sense... A highschool dimploma says that I am willing to cooperate with an institution which dances around in the facade of education, when really, it only lets people sleep at night thinking " I am not all that dumb.." I chose not to do that... I live with my choices every day. I am not depressed, rather, I am happy in a fullness of life that one who does not experience it can only but imagine. Being that there is no order, no care to what life is, there is no higher good to strive for. There is nothing universal about existence, the individual is existence as I know it. There is no croud, no reason outside my own. Ethics are a lie, Morals are a lie as well. If I do not like you, I may kill you. This is so because there are no reasons but my own. I am the first and last law. That is my freedome of choice, I exist.
The world in which we live is arbitrary, my looks, my clothes, my words, my voice, etc... Are without care handed where they fall. They are not me. All of me that will ever be known is my choices, for they are the only things over which I have deciding power. I exist, I am free... I feel revolting and beautiful............


Regards...... Mike