Possibly selling a motorbike.
No description listed.
If you wish to buy it for $2,300, let me know.
Offers only accepted until the end of this month, though,
will otherwise just take those grueling steps to make it run diligently.
Next steps:
wait a second, they want musicians and artists t.....
no that is another psychological rant.
If you study the sequences of many of these rants, they
follow the same trajectory in an exactness that may just drive you wild,
or really heat up your oil. (and how!)
It came to me that I'd been writing the same exact rant with new spices
and flavors ever since the 1990s which was already 500 years ago.
and here I am doing it all again right now.
If you come out the other side of it with an increase of massive anxiety,
or perhaps a liberated conscience (for as comparing it to mine with
such an upheaval of the most deeply entrenched feelings of sour guilt
and self-derived overplanning) then you owe yourself a contribution
to funding my earth extraction space progra----
well no,
I have this sentence of living on a planet
sitting beside many broken in shoes
and scattered notebooks.
The subversion is too fierce for many to ever handle
and it had even taken me down several times
but I get up at the oddest of hours, you see?
I see romance and heartfelt is dead on this planet.
You need a good motor of honest, up to no good daring,
but the eye for an eye, and tooth for a tooth,
when you realize the potential of your career has billion dollar industries
fighting against it,
and they want the artist or creators today to be able to get along to go along,
well that ain't gonna cut it, bud!
There are thoughts in people's minds right now that could change and benefit the world but you have to hire some faction of some of the DOOFIEST damned e-celebs or hamfisted, selectively picked... no, no. But I had a phrase right here on deck to type away. Then a wild animal beside me decided to start going and moving in all directions, splaying attention all out of me.
But if I try to redirect (I am censored and essentially spleened on things like Facebook and Instagram by the way. The algorithms are punk ass bitches, you might say. You get burned forever if your subsversive humor that MEANS well doesn't translate so some uppity ultra woke censors can flag you and demote the ability to transfer thought, expression and idea. Hey nice new religion. Nice cult. Nice self suffocated schematic of a machine that expunges and presses out the 'uniqueness' of not being able to have casual conversations of lighthearted affairs of being a human on a planet Earth. That is why after they ban all others who are merely in the room (me) the blatant need to be a victim and to shut out all alterior thought will lead further to such fXlks devouring one another! and it will happen. I know me self-referencing Tom Sawyerian charm and self-analytical professionalism might throw you off or not feign such doubt on this matter. but touchy authoritarians who lambast at being anti-authoritarian are the reason unto much that such "extremism" of thought is growingly commonplace. People who just wish to live and love and do their own darned thing ask simple question, and frankly my dear, you are now ultrabanned.)
and aside from that. What else do you need to know? There are a few goals. The mullen is able to be harvested around here. I am gleeful about some tobacco growth for a newborn season of this particular plant. I had made offer to trade some mint leaves to someone who spoke of have many seeds for possible growth, of plants that I am not even sure of but would find excitement in later identification.
The thought on the mercy-shoulder, actually, that nearly left me, was:
Those who are tortured on earth feeling vacated by a sense of earnesty in the arts,
may well produce something along the lines of authenticity and yet also a mental apparition of extreme unease to the walking public.
It takes the ability to feel torture, in that a realization of what earth could be versus what we are stuck in, doesn't mind the potential and seemingly pointless task of beginning to even express it at all.
An heirloom of hope is the affectionate, supporting lover, or the encouraging apparatus of a human being. Such may lift you out of a ditch if they see you half dead. Or lift a flower to the sky without shooting it into smithereens for some new fangled music video which also includes ASSES CRIME and DETORIATED LOBES.
It's to be done with style, slow drawl and an accentuation in which the market value cannot wade even gently in as due to the obsessive flood that products today and merely digital and not hands on.
Again, I recognize your suspicion of my state of mind in general. But if you piece through some of this roasting upon my very engagement in all subjects, aimed at me by me, you'll find serious consideration of the psychological and emotional state of a planet that knows the reigns of 'hope' itself is as much of a joke or subversion that I'm using as a safety net but also a tool.
If it's any sleuth of use, I would transfer over more hope during each one of these writings.
I've been off the walls but also not as intense as possibly accused. Moreso just peering into all of this, watching the manias of the manies, and going personally through things where I should be a lot more damned cynical, absolutely, or should have given up or dropped mostly all of this (creations, expression) by far some time ago. Oh boo hoo poor me, et all.
"It's not our fault you were born at the wrong time." or something like that.
There are excuses hidden in those statement!
and you can't go waiting around for other people, for affairs of scenarios for the rest of the eye for an eye world to save you, or, and this is sad, to even lend a hand. Hell, people remember things like that.
It's just so easy to get lost in this sweep of social media mass hallucination (and I believe that is what it is when brining on the brunt of projectionism) and where some good momentum for hands on projects could be found and made, a huge statistic of people are trying to find company or company in idea and project by jumping onto these damned machines. The magic of activity and the magic of even daring to stare failure in the face and say "off the horse!,"
or more appropriately, "give me your tax dollars, personal enemy!" and beginning something.
Organic, I mean. With heart. Billion dollars industries will sniff you out real damned quick, though.
But that's okay.
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