Enertialcall Issue 12

2016

l

12

ial c al

Enertialcall

issue 12

Re-Bellingham Wa.

ne

rt

ue

12

E

lc l

Iss

l a

n

E

a i t er

“we unite in the mind� the dirt soliders.

FeatureArtist Kada $15.00 usd

Editorial desk mess

Table of Con-tents

feel them,, it is off into the creative to stare at the eyes staring, cunningly looking at my back and about to jump if only i would give the subconscious a merit , my leading voice looking to lead ,, for what fantasy that comes of embodiment,,

send all comments to editorialmess@enertialcall.com

Http://enertialcall.com membership and subscriptions available or not. Membership@ enertialcall.com “Only action cures depressional , Environmental political isms” The dirt solidgers

Editorial desk mess.. and what can I say when all seems layer bare in front of a globalism we can’t talk of openly, The reason Reagan gave the money to the rich,, or started the tax cuts which are proving criminal in the toll of disastrous effects , poor roads, broken or braking bridges,, a swollen lower class who are charged to bank to breath, after being driven out of jobs in mexico. i mean for factories in mexico,, we could have saved so much by just moving with the factors and taking the lower wages and the lower housing cost.. but no. we choose to stay in america..where everyone joins the military.. , or is a part time rock star. part time hair stylist, carpenter, painter, software designer, web host.. Everyone is a growing unit trying to adapt to the scene.. Wanting Premium jobs, but looking at all the credit fraud. with an eye of wondering where Nader went.. the concept of consumer affairs and regulations to stop hazardous waste dumping.. Everything importance seems to be lost to some voice of a hate filled americanisms,,verses the cold rules built into corporate capitalism,, which is really corporate globalism without law,, You don’t like a law move,, to another country like Hailburton’s headquarters in “Do Buy” YOu can even found a new state for Better commercialism ,, with under cut sky scrapper windows starting fires.. oh the love of mechanism to tell wrong from right, the rule of law of a computer to manipulate and control.. at least the king would make up his mind and hold to it, sometimes, but you had him to blame.. one man one god. We have no one to blame now, for as hard as we try we can only blame ourselves, but why? did we change the tax structure to favor the wealth,, we would call them rich but its to middle class and there isnt one,, its like a dieing language, middle class , everyone accepts they are poor until they are rich.. with most wishing on the lottery,, spending the welfare money to get it.. or that might be just me.

Polly art pg 7 Feature ARtist pg.. 14 Review,, matrix and more.. pg 13 Feature NOvelist pg 17 K.a.ambrose Graphic novelist pg 24 Hans Reikhist Learning to Fly Phoenix Chicken pg 27 Paper cuts pg 30 Andie Lee Eames Another Day pg 34 John Burns Feature Poe-it pg 42 LuuLac Tellme where hope and centiped meet pg 47 by K.A.Ambrose

Any way i haven’t changed since the last magazine , or maybe i have , i cant remember. living takes such time. a little over a year..

Advancements; small. the web page yes.. and i have adjusted to new embed codes.

Inside me ,, i feel an acceptance more than ever and it bothers me, like happiness isn’t enough until a realization of peace goes to all.. like the Enertialcall is to respect the balance that can never be for one.. I have been sheltered , and fed.. loved and left alone, I have

Steam Punk-The Awakening pg 48 Dann Linn a bornhorse short pg 57 by Internes O’Clair Delicacy of naming pg 59 by Meander H. Charles pg 2

the last second brought this,, this looking of passion without caring to

Enertialcall

struggled to get out of the house and in that vein have been attended the church of the open mike and have been practised the first amendment right without corporate censorship. like here, in three four minute statements, poetry, die a log’s to two chord rock beats and announce The enertialcall . Sometimes i talk of plant people visions of social change, where the whole is effected by the micro.. and by such ideas, I feel the protest. living against everything as an understanding of a natural path. Leaving it up to the audience,or the art. I am not sure. for i don’t usually plan. like this.

Editorial desk mess.

It has been a year since i created Issue 11. I lost my cat and my doctor started to tell me about cancer.. so of course i used that to question my death ideas.. Am i really going to look at death and see energy released,, inside a cat scan you get time,, after an operation. or before, when you give a moment to innerly resolve, to accept, but death as an answer seems natural to me.

Problem seems to come when being alive isn’t lived in answers but symbolism and forecasts, fables and laws turned into tortures in for-profit prisons or forprofit education I am out on the streets and the mess is just that. Pretty women and funk music, off a cell phone,, Crossing against vehicles. moving music,, and everyone comes with a sound track and everyone is lonely in room with the blueish glow to nurture them to heights. editorial desk mess. firstly i think we live in different worlds,, as an understanding. I , live in a world equaling the first realization of quantum physics,,and the first society of the global citizen. I think that my body is water and energy, I call myself a bio pilot cause i know each atom of my being is working together to push these keys,, and to survive the assault of germs and the adaptations of emotional health..and i know we change the world with the ideas we live. I think Aliens are already here.. and have grown this way. I have grown seeing proof through a fine silk of intuition and meditation’s awareness of self and system, to such a degree that i feel remiss not to mention ideas of unity: global and personal. People facing traumas need answers.. and as an abused child i feel the need to help those i can. for me a feeling of energy metaphysics is the bases to the humanities, though few, seem to see, mostly because it isn,t front door main street education except around the edges of the new wave of a globally recognized belaying. All the problems of our modern world are global problems it only takes one virus to prove that. one virus like the Oil decimated land of Africans countries. Creating conflicts that can wipe out whole futures with no one to complain to and until the virus is identified there will be no peace,, so peace of self must lead,, we find peace in breathing , faith , and an a natural awareness joining us. as planet we could stop the wrecking of oceans and forrests,, the global tax structure would have peace initiatives.. and a world clean up army.. Would stop deforestation and claim Global park areas.

Would listen to waring faction and provide buisnesses for the areas in need, like hot houses for desert areas,, and poly-silicon plants as a self we reach though our love and understanding, we must have a sight of government which cures and isn’t dominated by the business classes temporary profits motives .. Government must always be the biggest business in order to apply a common law for the common good not a one percent over all.

America lives as a global citizen,, our jobs are shipped off because we consume. but now we are competing Enertialcall

pg 3

editor desk mess continue with people who really need the money,, as in they can starve without the jobs we provide but which lower our standard of living..but even the Media has left the front rooms and is created in back rooms with purpose,, todays topic will get used over and over and over,, little changes to the report until it is over and another news item takes its place, funneling what everyone else says cause its cheaper than finding out and an accepted verdict applied from here we walk into the next ,, i am lost and happy in that , like reason doesn’t seem to be working.

So the enertialcall. what is natural is also disreasonable. but.. experienced peace is a living an understanding of why the need.. and so we type against the clouds of suppressive conscious. to get you to look at yourself but only on weekends and holidays the rest of the time ,, show up and deal with having to show up.. i have walked away and you support me.. i live off system and wonder on fixing a life that is ingrained in chemicals and subservience subconscious,, to a subversive responce to natural responces,, and health is crying against emotional capacities and true self clarity.. my hand my heart. I couldn’t go on getting apartments to lose them,, getting jobs ,, and suffering,, i needed to be me,, and finally let myself just be me,, some got it early it was all right to be themselves against parents and system, the right moves the innocent repetition.. but you grow. and look at life from a here,, for once, so much seems to be turned to a then,, i will do this then,, and with that you only see system of now.. which without careful grooming isn’t even now,, but a sub conscious representation.. so what is now.. you say,, your heart.. is now.. the hard thing is to hear..

Letters to the editor..

Dear editor.. are you kidding to call yourself the editor.. no education. you don’t edit you cut and paste,, yes you choose but out of all the people that you choose you choose yourself, where i couldn’t even bring myself to read your misaligned attempt at art.

Dude you are having a major break down and don’t even know it.

Next you will be out on the streets with a can and a needle in your arm like all the rest that don’t live right. becasue that is all you are with a pagan brain.. and a symptoms expression. you dont even pay attention to your own writing as it builds up under your bed,, as files and files, are left in files called unused like your name matters more than the work and you think you are living, when there is no where to go tomorrow. and the road is blindingly dark, from where you are to what you propose. your making me ill like a virus.. at the Olympic games. and i bet you will publish hate mail because you have so little to say..

Your sincerely Donald T. Duck dear editor did you notice the Bush dynasty dieing.. hehehe. or that the first thing Obama did was pardon baby bush when he left office with a cloud of cash given to his favorite Halibuton or a mother-in-laws twice removed.. Did you notice how the media has been reporting on killing black people but not on the racial republicans ,,or how congress has been anti president and cant get a thing done to talk about a balanced budget. a congress that refuses to do their job until a knife is held up, and the knife has to be held/owned by a corporate concern. And if you have anything important to say you better hold it until the budget concessions. Only after the military budget which never mixed with the domestic, no they agree on that first..

Smith and Wesson is the oldest corporation in the country. 1809i think Did you notice that a portion of the country. 30 million people have voted to stop corporate dominance in government. and yet.. Nothing is changing,, and the argument is between an actor and a corporate executive. Or is that both candidates? are you going to write in bernie or go with warren? do you think we are looking at ww three with nato a divided economy.. ?

Did the british want to join the Earth union so as to avoid doing all this organizing all over again?

Is it true that “hilly” C. approved Lowering the radiation levels in fish in order to have a fishing industry after Fukachima.. ? and why did Hilly leave office? or why did she leave new york? how easy was it to break into Hilly’s servers Was the breach an intentional thing to sell information to others ? oh my god But imagine what is in d.t’s closet? Who admits to knowing the kkk and touching the hand of its leader? lol.. sincerely just another moron with a coat on dear editor.

You ever notice when you sit down to write .. ?or is it just in general? . People want to talk about their life. You listen. I have known people who would talk for hours never ask about what you do . because you are trying to do something. So they dont ask you about anything. the idle is enough to fulfill them. Over and over again when they see you just keep talking about themselves.. its funny..

I always want to say what does this have to with me? They get offensive when you do that. . So i just listen. People do ask about me, so its is a speciaL MENTAL HANDICAP , THE INABILITY TO CONVERSATE OR TO TELL WHEN SOMEONE IS BORED WITH YOU , BUT IS TO NICE.. , its the difference between truth and being, so much of what we face is because we are alone, people can treat you anyway they want.. Because you try and be nice.

Really i want clothing that says “If i am writing please leave me alone”. i was typing while the person was in front of me, my hands flying

pg 4

Enertialcall

over the keys, like a texter.. my head thirty years away as all the response i would have interrupted with, fade into reminiscent , as i innerly flail against my unimportance to the person. but its not me,, “I know” . i am nothing and you will never ask about me because you are subsisting. ? we are all alive,. but it seems like the further we glorify our simple lives the more ,we don’t ,look out.. like this last few months i have been trying to experience the whole world of video games.. the world of equality and simple tasks to redue until we get them right. Focus mounted into the game,, the system specializing, the computer selling off your personal life.. Training you for global devastation and mentally implanted normalacy. smaller and smaller are the people you get to see , the lives you get to live.. smaller and smaller the hopes and passion give of love a schroka whole , by giving. .

Sincerely patient 4? hey dude..

Quantum physic has proven that physical matter is porous,, put that in your bowl and smoke it. sincerely watery dear editor We hope you see that a women in charge will make the movement to a global governance easier.. yes i know you are scared on the back lash of a eye lash, on the showing of strength,, hilly is a bitch when anyone says anything about her.. but not so much as her saying what she wants to do with the over all system.. what has she said has always come by answering what someone else has purposed. like repeating their words and saying they are yours ,, and with the media on one side You think the idea was hers cause you never heard of the guy that said it , even though he is also running for office. the Way media is ran through corporate concerns is killing our trust in everything..

Without trust where is civilization.. in the normal ways, at the bottom . there is just more people there.. and less people looking to see. six companies own 95 percent of the media in the usa. and how many of them are international? Thank you for creating media ,, i know you are poor i see the training and editing and everything about the EC but it is different than anything else i see. once again thank you.. bob Ps ( media needs to give all Parties equal access. Or there must be an american ran media outlet,, for equal coverage for all parties. as far as debates.. thank you)

Dear editor the American/Chinese talk didn’t get reported on after they happened.. .. in wide new cycle? did you notice that back when the second vote was taken on Banking reform the Oil spill in the gulf started with halibutron at the pump? and ended the same day as the final vote.. was taken..? have you noticed we never talk about balancing the budget or paying off the debt? while lowering taxes and warzoning the world? john burns dear editor the government is an angry stepfather who drinks.. lost in an ego of right and wrong.. its almost like the one percent is only people who inherent money, cause they aren’t as smart and dont respect the power they wield.

Children making mistakes with lives. Exposing them selves to law suits,, like if the government sued for keeping people in poverty with a job.. like Wal Marts their policy of telling people how to get food stamps and governmental aid.. Couldn’t that effect their corporate license? it effect my sense of “fair play”,, but my morality isn’t set up by my wallet. I haven’t any . morality is a four legged word, and the moral majority gave up and bought in,,

and I found my wallet with seven dollars in it.. Brand new, maybe a man child’s first, no id, no anything, but the seven dollars..i didnt even think,, I needed a wallet,, no lost and found registered in my head.. it was free and it is few the blessing consume them at will i will. Sitting on a park bench late night no one around. i have been trained on the streets with no will alone.. i have watched those who have prey on the those that don’t, Each looking a little closer to each, until the lines blurr, and heros are the speakers. Bought and paid heros.. with the ganster rap from the gutter up. poverty and what you do to get out of poverty is cool.. so it steaches into banking, with its street sense that people like to pay with a debt card that look like a credit card, but is rigged to fuck the poor by not stopping the transaction letting the card overdraw a built-in creations producing a tweleve billion dollar con and i haven’t seen that kind of con since the kid handed me a sandwich bag of bark with a gun in his pocket my second week in boston. real smooth ,, real written in , such that despite banking cost more , making the poor poorer. all cause of the morals of government,, I kept the wallet and would again,,, i only wanted a coffee after last weekends seventy five dollar two cups. new economics is just that ,, a guide book to legalized street cons.. please don’t publish this it might make me look stupid and i have enough of that already. one percent sin shearly ,Dear editor. how come so many people die from cancer but still the chemicals that cause cancer are not classified except in California. i mean . i was told or i read that all the chemicals that cause cancer have been identified.. but still they are sold legally. case in point the rad levels in fish. where is the fda?

We have long thought about this with the nutrition standards lowered for certain food. but still called food. hell even real cheese you have to pay extra for . replaced with processed cheese food and bragging rights to 10 percent real milk.. lol.. you would say people are eating , but the food doesn’t have any nutritional value.. where is the fda, look who is the chief. an ex Monsanto person, next to be called Beyer. a german company if the sale goes through which would create the largest chemical corporation in the world and fulfilling the big fish doctrine, which says come big or don’t come at all. all the funds for certain diseases are fed through this.. like cancer is a pay word.. but world diseases are not. but what .. with the creation of laws saying what food need to contain we have only the creation of less and less stability in our food . I have to announce here that the value of nutrition is dumbing down people; lack of nutrition lack of intelligence.. Lack of nutrition values is also causing Obesity our number one health problem. which creates large medical problems. which then gets supported by the state through welfare. i guess the main reason i am being rant-ish explosion is my home town surrounding the jail and library with a cancer walk. the criminality of the corporations seems naturally to come to mind. i feel the national repression of this topic so i write it here, no one else will notice or appreciate the subtlety. your truely dieing of cancer Morine Dear editor,, there was a new thing i just heard of and though you might want to also.. have you ever heard of the Childrens Trust.. the short form is no I dont know who really sponcers it.. . The purpose is to fight legislation which guarantees mineral rights of the future. as in these rights are not taken away , not sold off to business people and continue the peoples right to water.. Case in point Poland Springs Maine. Where Nestle has tapped the upstream water rights, yes sold to you through little plastic containers,, water in water. but more unsettling is that the towns down stream are loosing their well water. Who looses without this?

Enertialcall

pg 5

Ten Things a Trump will do as President.. well maybe..

1) Sell!!! Sell!!! Sell!! Every “excess” part that he can..to trim government. to create needed revenue against the big banks, selling the postal system. healthcare, space exploration, and military intervention. . Privatization is The Way..

1a) nato will have to pay america for any military involvement..He will sell the Irs, in fact to a friend of his who gave him a good deal on a wig. Just like Bush and the Haliburton years.. but with less oil spills.. . this will create a lot of private sector jobs but will destabilize governmental sector of aMERICA, but .THEN WIG HEAD WILL SAY LOOK WHAT I DID FOR JOBS, creating over a million jobs by firing a million and a half.. more migrant workers for the farmers without Mexican labor.

2) President Trump will put Americans to work..

Assigned jobs for the disabled,, Part time employment for depression cases. to keep housing. Including desk cleRKING FOR THE library, and pet sitting,, all stray house cats will be assigned to the local shelter to be taken care of by said homeless people.

3) trump will build his wall..( or little walls that once again make great real live video where you can watch them jump and walk, and run around obstacles, on Pay per view)) , the fastest times across the walls get to stay a wall of paper work ,, Trade and treaties limit the use of a wall.. but he makes it harder than hell to get across giving a million dollar contract to the border marshals founded by Haliburton. He will not talk about the Guest workers programs changes .. as in you fly huge jet full of Somalians, or Syriaian and then fly them back to the camps.. collecting taxes all along the way. which again creates the impression of growth while completeing the cycle of enslavement. but what do you want from the Enertialcall..

i am pg 6

Enertialcall

4) Trump will give a free picture of his wife,, and start a ,, “where is the Presidents ruler.. ,, the live action show,, pray per view.. , proceeds will go toward paying off the national debt, with a measly quarter of a percent to the “save donald trumps saint hood fund”.

Prisoners will learn to make computer chips,, and be shipped to korea to work. you choose the border , the closest we could get to self defined. , i think i am channelling him ,, damn this is the shit, wait wait,, let me find a mirror, wow. some really , Being john Malcovich shit. I am drunk,, wow did you know that Bush left Texas with the largest Texas debt in its history , funneling the money where,, and art is the art is the art special the little times of this body, the asking of health on a frame what you see and don’t, what you need , see and can not find, like skipping over a puddle. so what is me,, next? \ 5) Brand the Name “America” .. such that American made is a Trade mark of America Food and Drug administration’s approval. like Enertialcall

Polly Art the Pennsylvania, or Germany trademarks. but trump pushes for the next food, trump burgers , , which contain all the necessary vitamins and are precooked,, and dehydrate in water,, turning liquid form,, in twelve amazing flavors, The American brand will represent the best in Trump logic and marketing.. we pay back the debt,, Without raising taxes, we turn government into a providing entity,, creating American solar panels,, as the highest quality, and rezone all new house to have Emergency off grid energy systems. Refitting every home by, such and such date 6) Welcome to another American New thing, the National Lottery,,also to pay of the debt. The money is tax free.. so everyone wants to play.

7) Trump will give free schooling though his University just for getting him elected, so you can go to school by internet..

8) Sell your children into the last war.

My bother myself, my father my health, off to never ending equalization of the game of risk,, yet, denied like ignorance my mantra blinded by facts the diswading walls. ,such the anger devideds, and more accuasation are flying that facts already , the squaare devision. the morality mobs, 9)Trump once owned the land that the occupy accupied.. trump will create safe zones where people can box for electional representations, these zones will be made up of barricades and all who enter can fight free of law,, the arena is layered with police and the action is simultaneity also to pay off the debt through betting.

10) Start world war three.. or bring peace like the messiah,, oh wait,, i cant say that,, you do know i am kidding, the first one to me seems logical, the mis mashing of jobs will give a cover for all the shit that will be rammed down his throat,, and even he will fail, to the private government, but who cares, the natural is being lead to conceive outer realms and be conscious of awareness and change ,, we are the first,, that admit to an energy conscious wand with that all becomes our creation.

Trump restarts the alien files and LSD files for creative sedatives to concor the blatant denial of his governances, who’s in court for fraud. do we do Hillary,, do we do Burmny,, hmmmm, at this point i know we are looking at another attempt to control, but free education must be in a civil society.. There is no equality is not of the mind , i should be living the same experience as a harvARD STUDENT.. AS A MODEL OF THE LEVEL OF STUDY REQUIRED BY THE NATIONAL COLLEGE SYSTEM. Mediation shall come to the for front as we look at ways to calm ourselves down from the panic of any substantial change creates actions against and for, the plain tide of common sense has little to do with you ,, it is common sense being realized by a technological brain, we of the breathing class,, we who know the nature commutes to personal energy,, we are the hope if pg 7

Polly Art continue there is no other,, nothing to do with the millionaire , who does it for prophecy and existential unity.. Opposites uniting to define loving nature. We

care and from there we say. under bernie,, as i create what wont be, the fantasy reminds me of the energies, evolution , you say it like a butterfly wing changes the air pressure,, for the millionth monkey of it.

What was i saying, oh ,, the sander presidency will change the food and drug admin, to a high regard toward organics and raw food,, the quality control will rise by taking away incentives to create profit with a standardized pricing system for American farm products,, lol.

Basically we will have a whole organic movement,, President Bernie will also change education to teach mediations in the school systems,, offered to all, with none mandatory.. a pillow room in the libraries, and scarlet temples to the god energy of self. . ok i admit i don’t know what will happen repell citizen united, and re regulate the banks, with elimination of the federal reserve. i will have to think on that and get back to you as well as re regulation on media giants breaking them up and selling them for cheap to the Occupy movement Radio.

11) Global Prisons,, and relocation services.. The Donald will lessen the domestic jail population by shipping all life offenders ,and any one with over ten years serve, to the newest resort jails in the middle east ,, While giving all the poor people over there guard jobs picking on American prisoners.. but there will be just as many from the Middle East.. as we lock up as many as we can and charge the United nation’s for a cure to war.. global slavery is back...

12) combs his comb over the other way.. Leaving everyone to notice the Made in Americao tattoo.. his father branded him with as a joke when little donald wouldn’t stop peeing in bed. the hot brand cold shower punishment.

13) and i didnt even get stoned yet.

14) Pres Trump will get caught with page boys.. who will only be looking to make a million in realistate like donald.. or run his next campaign. or television show.. “the real president”. all payments to be made with speaking engagements. after he leaVES OFFICE.. also on pay per view 15) ever notice how the comb over was started by Hitler

16) he will start the first homeless army..to clean up toxic sites. Work will start immediately everywhere.. ran by some subsidiarity he gives no bid contracts to,, like Iraq, and the Drug wars.

17) i am sorry i didn’t consider trump the real candidate ,, i thought he was just laundering his mob money.. infact he is the mob connection to 30 organized individuals that run all this newly privatized government, until he finds out their are already in office and then he makes money not telling the American people..

18) President Trump will create a “red for every neck”.. by changing the military uniforms to be red . the blood wont show as much when he puts cameras on all guns,, so that we can watch the war up front like the cia does but with a stylish and so hot announcer..also available on Pay per view. To balance the budget.

19) add your own, get friends together and have a contest,, to see how many horror stories you can remember..

pg 8

Enertialcall

Hillary poly art.

Ten things Mrs Clinton will do.

JUst like bill

Promise Forget,,

Say,

One Everything Bernie said “but Practically” No Wait its sept.. That was then,,Now its “ NOthing trump said”.. its great to fight an argument using you enemies words and none of your own ideas. Everything bernie said was wrong , and now everything Trump’s says is wrong.. Same campaign with the same parrot in a dress..

Two. Continue the WARSSS,, and i mean all of them . but Rebranded. As Peace Strategies Just like changing the acceptable Rad levels of fish after Fukushema. Its all how you say it. .

Three. deny deny deny,, tainted emails.. security openness in government after White Water,, fbi allegations. “it twert me” oh wait, wrong again bill meets with Attorney general ,, but thats gone,, answering Trumps wall and Hairstyle.

Four Criminal penalties for disrespecting a Woman CEo’s rights for not paying her enough. feminine equality will be written into civil law and the millions of law suits after we clog the courts for years,, and confines her to one reached goal while the rest of the government fights over bigger and bigger paper clips.

Five she forget the promised the face off with Citizens United,, in fact besides Bernie saying she agreed she didn’t mention it since. ( the one percent is going to pay their share,,the closest i hear from acceptance speech,, lol) No mention of secret international money in American politics or Laundering money from the corporate Mob. Or collusions by realistate moguls to sabotage American communities by driving them out of housing through property taxes. six. Hillary will make sure you can get a brian chip (The Chippy) to tweet from and use face book from, sponsored by goggle for homeland security and the new globe initiative to carry your medical records.

You can write it off your taxes.. free apps available everywhere, But remember those Data limits,, like the inner alarm clock and the national passport.. and instant drug screening by kissing some one. The new chippy you can make yourself a telephone and hot spot for internet,, and you will be a profession in third world countries just sit and collect coins. This works really well for begging monks.

Coletrain for Coltrane “Is there a cosmic energy in smiling”

Enertialcall

pg 9

Fe

E atu nerti a r KA e Alcall’s D rt

A ist

KAda is my artistic name,, I had created this word from signing my name on all my painting.. but i had to shorten it, and i started to use my initials and then i got lazy,, and Kda came out.. instead of Kaa,, so i added them together to Kada..

My painting is a process. First i use.. Primary colors , and mix straight on the canvas, and I might in the future. But the past has meant closing my eyes and projecting emotions at a surface. Stopping and looking, starting. Laying flat and watering the surface. Slightly here and there.. in small puddles and let to dry or spread and the find the shades and ink them out. , .. each interaction a natural understanding of the elaborate Art through the simplicity of vision , or color symbolic,, or a proven randomness of nature’s rainy day subway floor. Symbols formed of sight and gone. One picture a million parts.. and each with the conscious of a one. Water bound , and dried into time.

“I don’t care what it looks like as much as what I can find in it.”

pg 10

Enertialcall

Enertialcall

pg 11

Enertialcall what dreams may come.. robin Willianm was always my hero.. to see him in his hbo improvisations gave me chills.and everytime he reached the stage, or in

movies. he rep-resented a world of truth,, a world of sanity in an insane world..he was a hope for me that eventually some natural order would win out and that common sense could win. Same with Pryor and Karlen most comedy of the early eighties.. .Any comedy that pointed to the incredible stupid systems of life. . what dreams may come reaches to understand death , , a place few films go. and yet, the story of a death we create is not new. as thoughts go... but of course not since Dante have we felt the repose so strong that comfort in death , and with such a balanced messenger as Robin Williams. Some might not like this picture, but once he enters the world of his heaven we are watching the understanding of how good life can be, if only we could understand imagination creates our world.. not that mr williams had anything to do with the picture. But he did pick good films to do.

This has some flaws but the concept made me feel truth as i feel it. for me it weighed into over all philosophy of a common spirituality. It did not deny the love to reach a balance. No ever present evil to mount the disabled soul. Just love to holds us together in forever. The reason we have pain , to teach us the love we need to learn, but lets not forget this tale is just a movie, the main character is a doctor. Who’s very rich. but small things fall off . this is a great movie but not well created in parts of the dialogue. small things , like everything, missing

scenes,mis spoken cuts,, If anyone knows of a directors cut i would like to see it.

I cried three or four times during the movie. i cried because i learned death was a creative state long ago.. i stopped thinking about suicide on a daily level because life is a creative understanding of perspectives and I cried because i once loved a women name Anna. ..

The cgi was a brand new thing at the time of making this movie.. but i loved the colors. I never got to see this in a theater,, but all the symbols of history are here. like this is the one movie an artist needs to see. the hell scenes remind me of Dante.. . and i thought i saw Darryl Hana. I did see a couple of the effects taken from the Matrix, oh wait. the other way around.. even concepts like the would we know and the one me don’t .. like the Tracker, she talks of not need the glasses but he likes them.. without this movie i don,t think there would be a matrix. Ground breaking .. but i will get to the matrix one two and three,, in a minute. this movie asks us to forget heaven concepts but then tells us to remember them,, the few lines of dialogue does the same thing. at one second someone says there is no heaven or hell. and the next they are throwing around the Word.

The whole film denies a pearly gates or demons for people that think in the creative and those that don’t plan and simple. no register of sin for one state of another, but yet, the church feature prominently, in the real world and the fantasy death world,, the first as reality is , in a wedding and two funerals,, and the second turned up side down.. and for being a film about creative, both of the main lives in this story have hardly any past before the movie. no separate part of the soul mates lives. so it

is a fable. .. Reincarnation is a Hindu? thing,, but it is featured prominently also. yes maybe i just wanted to cry , and i love robin Williams like a ghost father i didn’t have, as the ill

legitimate child of steve martin. Crying is good for the skin,, and the soul.

strength of the silent pg 12

Enertialcall

The matrix One.. Revealed to me a Movie worthy of the economic structure.. one which says there is another world,, just inside this one. like the difference between materialism and non materialism. The difference between living as a drug addict or a alcoholic, and living to breath and hydrate. The difference of state and understanding awareness ,, I liked how I felt reawakened by the concept being front and center plot wise, am i not alone in seeing energy and the realization which changes things,

Re-view

Old movies new views event and perspectives..

When i was it , i was aware how the eastern idea of body energy was unfilled.. and the idea of the rebellion as no more than waking people up.. I was insulted that the “terrorist” were the good guys,, like from one concept to the reverse like someone wanted to create the idea that you are awakening to be a terrorist,, that bothered me, more from the idea that to change is a recreation of life instead of a daily event. a daily grow is true change, yes with plateaus along the way , but we are either changing for the better or the worse. What is called peace in our time is restrictive.

Nature is in constant grow.

The matrix two and three mixed together the failure of humanity. And self rule (anti existentialist and way Minion like) .the machines said to live by there rules, for there was only the creation. No real air ever.. of course we find out later that the original story wasn’t even the same writers. as the ones who got the credit, No the original story was stolen form a graphic novelists. a poor novelist ?? i dont remember, the name, but they paid her off after a five year court battle.. and then, either they couldn’t finish her work,, or the censure got to them just to disavow self rule. a story can not end with a complete humanity without computers, so said the word process to the printer,, the auto motive implant in subconscious boundaries.

Minions ..so lets start by saying minions have been on this planet before man.. Advising mankind. we are minions as a subconscious fable.

The leaders the minions take to are the strongest and evilest creatures they can find.. Mankind is the final end to that , but the minions , are referred to as employee, and yet the masters are called “the people they serve” but they are not slaves? . These little yellow tic tacs, have a language all there own which they try to teach with a song latter on. as one of the features at the end of the movie.. and all the sixties music, reminding

us of a better time???? you know the civil rights movement and ANTI WAR.. PROTESTS (NO

MORE WAR KNOW MORE WAR,, SHIT THAT DIDNT COME OUT RIGHT OR WAIT) , and to explain why it was so easy to take over the British government which is a strange consideration after Leaving the EU. and why the tic tac’s so easily could find their way into a fancy story without security. i should restart this , and say this is a comedy where we cant know what the tic tacs are saying . . and i should also not talk of them as tic tac,, they are tic tac in various states of consumption. remove the slime. but reality be damned, WE get a violent women evil person and thank god.. we have the elections to prove different. and the subconscious effect of us all being a minion. Looking for the most evil and well paying corporate boss.

Hmmmmm.. Laters

Enertialcall

pg 13

mother pg 14

Enertialcall

argue weather Enertialcall

pg 15

Enertialcall

Feature Novel

ist

Abstracts from a bookish thought

by Howard O’bervy

how to make money and have fun all while collecting snipes. alternate title; Snipe guide for fun and profit.

Introduction- our snipe guide Jon,says hello, this includes, the free list of “snipe hunter instructors” in your area. as well as a comprehensive historic study of the snipe and the cultures tobaccos have created,, “The “ om “ of addiction.” Including the extra feature what the hell is “Gallinago”?

Chapter One. HOw to snipe? “the simple to follow, when and where to better plan your adventure,,with organizational charts, , and all right tools.. also the Snipe HUnten Mall.com where you can buy snipe related materials ..Also included in this chapter the ever popular “ Sniping in Social events”.. with the extra “Sniping with a date.” and “Sniping on a job interview”.. include for no extra charge..

Chapter Two Snipe characteristics,, and classing your snipes.

This creates better communication about snipe stories around the oil drum. from the RE snipe to the Mega snipe,, all the way up to the “Catillac” ,,This is all the information on sniping you have always needed but never could find in one place.

Chapter Three Snipping for MOney,, we tell you 20 different ways,, and maybe if you are nice we will sell you a franchise in your area. Including our copyrighted “SnipeMeat” printed labels.. Just the right thing for the non smoker in your house.

Chapter Four Rolling your first snipe Chapter five..

PUblishing books on poverty news..

Chapter six.. The Wet snipe.. and other extreme sports of sniping and weather. the gutter crawl and the Five star snipe.

Chapter Seven Smoking and the law.?

Introduction.. Meeting our paid snipe guide..

We call.. “The life of an excessive compulsive smoker. Jon burns..” Jon teaches from a mastery of the streets over the last thirty years. ( Previous to this writing , Also see other books by jon.. like how to stem for money while buying stocks and,, the always favorite ,, “who stole my life” Now on paperback..)

Bloody bunny pg 16

Enertialcall

Jon Burns being an alcoholic and destitute perverted ass whole of a man,, becomes the transient model for survival in urban sprawl..

Being one of the “after market” people. Who have worked until the body and mind couldn’t stand it.. “after market” because no one wants you, used like a two dollar sword left over at the car naval. you are used..done.. the walk gets a little slower, and the hope goes a little faster.

“but magic happens every where”.. says jon.. Staring from eyes that always seem to answer with faith intact with his conditioning. You reach for less when you see what the global norms are.. “There never was anything to reach for but living. so why not live.” Other times he says “Cast away all that would give you guilt.” “Motives need easier answers to see and less guilt reveals more love, trust and faith.”

JOn is a character that is everywhere,, as you can see from our extensive list of snipe teachers, it is an everyman story. Jon is you mall walker.

Well sometimes, who remembers when you could smoke in malls,, Now they kick you out.. In every city ,, around the bus station.. You can see him , in the many shapes,sexes and sizes assumed to be the unemployed and Unemployable. You would be shocked to know that 70 percent of sniper have regulate jobs and just snipe for fun. .You can see the addiction reigning in people’s freedom, So they reinvent the wheel and re use what is thrown away,, YOu can be in the country and somewhere there will be a small town to come to ,, to search the streets of ,, those country snipe giants,, live on forested lands and under bridges along desolate hyways,,, so out of place to the tourist crowds,, and hidden as the ancient art of snipping. only to be seen by those who are looking.. Country snipers have to collect much more,, and can not take time out to smoke many , the good squirrely sniper collects until he has his proper need for the long month away,, you can not walk twenty miles to go sniping every day. you must harvest while you can.. and as much as you can.. that was how we came up with parts of chapter three.. in fact most of this book was formed because Jon needed a system to tell others,, and to help himself. For once he lived on a fire lane in the deep woods, with the furry trees,, his system was created and perfected based against all terrain and physicalities.. its all in the lists... but we will get there soon.. Jon is 80 years old and also sell newspapers every morning for three hours on a street corner, he is usually in his own spot,, and yet history is useless unless he wants to tell you.. We really can only know from the form and delicately repetitive gestures as he bends down, to grab a Snipe,, we can tell from the almost succulent ways jon pulls apart the paper to reveal the inner smoke, you think of fine tobacco products the world over,, or maybe truffles being picked under the french pigs nose.. Fine. Quietly. Quickly.,, and with a greater joy that the price of a pound of truffles really can bring,, Jon says “it is the hunt which makes it whole.. “ We know from the historic words and advise jon has laid here, for you and i.. his is the voice of a warrior of poverty and justice,, the worn and kicked men and women who feel for you,, because you have become numb and programmed,, such that turning on your emotion you cry in abandonment for a world we leave being us, .. Sniping might be your redemption..from the “electronic sorry” and “give me drugs to keep me silent” Era we live in. But also in this year what does a voice mean inside the clatter.

Jon practical applications of these years have created many of his fine works. his other books include,, A guide to poverty .. “Live free, be free,on twenty cents a day” and Now on Hardback “get a job , loss a job and free meals reviews.”

As a side note we have walked to the ends of our block to find the ultimate in sniping information for you good reader.. for alas it seems writing and sniping go hand in hand, Well only if you want to write truth. , so jons days are helped by the fine leaf we live by,, jon and his dog scrappy, who refuses to snipe mostly be cause he doesn’t smoke..

For more of Jon, the whole OLd ass personal story press here,, ( and fuck off that’s all we are telling you) .

Whatever.

All comments were recorded while Jon was under a selfinduced stupor besides an old oil drum filled with newspaper and the frame of an old mattress. The stench was awful , and the purple smoke must have had chemicals in it. Under these condition you can tell we didn’t listen all that well , so we used a tape deck thereafter, we had three more sessions Enertialcall

pg 17

with Jon ,, Each time one of Jon’s students namely drinking partner ,through we wanted Enertialcall to say he is an acolyte,,. this man kept the fire going full of stuff you are not allowed to burn,, and the air became some kind of ist psychedelic, with real visions of dragons and elves,, i even saw a snipe bird driving a truck by. Jon’s student was so attentive to the conversation , his eyes starring glued more rules to follow.. to every word like a statue listening for Armageddon,, and still the fire almost die and when the student was loading it. it was Chapter ONe.. What is sniping.. . like a battle with a short round dragon but his acolyte never said anything .. and the Historically ,, The fact that most people , not in the know.. refer to the primordial fire burned in side that gluttonous great snipe as an elusive bird.. Out on the last raiments of the morrs in oil drum. old merry England, history has pointed to the invisible bird that started

Feature Novel

“Elves often go where even snipers fear to tread.”

Jon was the man we went to .. His sniping advise out weighed all others, and his numerous ebooks and he was cheap. The whole book of interview cost us three packs of cigarettes and a bottle of Rum, JOn’s choice.

Jon also accepts all cigarette donation (pleaSe forward them to the publishers.)

Here we have to Warn our reader.. and hopefully you haven’t skipped around while reading.

SNIPING CAN BE FUN AND YET VERY ADDICTIVE. sNIPING CAN BE AS FUN AS A NERVOUS TICK , ONCE YOU GET INVOLVED. ALSO YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT ALL MEDICAL VIRUSES AND DISEASES THAT INCLUDES ANY DISORDERS ACQUIRED THROUGH THE USE OF THIS GUIDE ARE THE SOLE Responsibility OF YOU THE HOLDER OF THIS BOOK,, NEITHER JON NOR THE PUBLISHER ARE LIABLE. tHIS HAS BEEN YOUR WARNING. sO THERE..

(MEDICAL CONDITIONS SUCH BLACK PLAGuE, TB, AIDS, CANCER, NERVOUS TICKS, SLOW MINDED DRUNKENNESS, ALL HAVE BEEN REPORTED BY PROFESSIONAL AND AMaTeUR sNIPERS mANY INCURABLE DISEASES CAN BE ASSOCIATED TO SNIPING. iNCLUDIN sARES AND THE SWINE FLU AND LONELiNESS TO MENTION A FEW..

REMEMBER ; “A FOREWARned SNIPER IS A WELL ARMED sNIPER” And if you are still reading this..

ONe of the first rules of sniping is eliminate other snipers. which now includes you.. and with those immortal words we go on. leaving room for extra introduction..

Rules of sniping Rule one Eliminate all snipers,, this can be done by telling people about the medial warnings, and then you can help people find work and a place to live, teach people where to by cheap cigarettes and other sinister devises.

Rule two Always think of the necessary isolation of your profession,, rule three never let on you are a sniper to non sniper.. rule four camouflage is necessary during civilian hours,, Rule three you must be extremely drunk while sniping,, sorry but the corporate alcohol lobby got to me. and made me put this in.

Rule four Never tell a girl you snipe,, or replace gender if the shoes fits. pg 18

on the isle. The orginal snipe was a bird no one could catch and so there was no science to prove its existence,, though i have heard of a few paintings of the fictional or mysterious long feathered bird, that survive the great purge of 1470, Pictures would have it like a pheasant, and in fact most would refer to the aviary as a pheasant if it didn’t sound so lousy,, hey lets go in search of that elusive bird the pheasant.. you know the state bird of pa.. and the insignia made famous by the third step child of Prince Alberson of Korncall Ireland in 1235.. yea yea No, the snipe is a cigarette butt, cast by smokers with money or drunk,, or just slovenly smokers. or just smokers with one of the aforementioned sicknesses,, These are the people who discard the filter ends of the cigarette,, crushing them on the streets. Littering with evil sheer smiles and a hatred for all life.. are killing fresh water birds,, with the gutter run off the chemically pollute with the cast off cigarette , Snipers save Salmon by collect flitter ends, which can be recycled to form doll for introverted seals , who love them and call them George, but that is off the subject..Remind me to get back to that.

All other illusion or definitions you might wish to fathom,, so you can get your friends to run around in the field, chasing said bird, is up to you. this should be included as a foot note ..

The publisher reminds you once again they are not responsible for any and all falling smearing or just general bad manors ,, for or from which medical bills both mental and physical,, if you say trip in the high grass or dive after the invisible bird,, and brake something the author or publishing people are again not responsible in fact all responsibility by the publishers is renounced right now. from lung cancer to a paper cut , you are prohibited for contacting the publishers,, so stop trying As the ages change so do symbolism The Snipe has become a word for a cigarette butt. Lying on the ground usually, A discarded butt that use to wait for the rain or the maintenance man,, is now rescued by the hero of mankind the Sniper, for who else collects these carcinogens, The Sniper and you.. Soon, as soon as you finish this book, You will see the world of self enlightening scarifies and /or vocation as well as serving that monkey on your back. Tobacco or as we like to refer to it Legal suicide ,corporately inspired and governmentally approved, is available to all, . Sniping as we know it was invented by De Pallo Serrious.. a Spartan immigrant .. and slave . who later rose to fame with his imp impersonations at king royal Cunt’s Bachelor party. It was long before the fame Imp hopping on one foot was ever heard of.. on a tropical farm in Virginia . We know this from early writing found of De pallo ,or so Jon said, on trees in the Sahara dessert but I have lost myself.

As the forefather of sniping De pallo left us with many quotation and guides . Jon used that organization of guide for our modern guide,, the guide to sniping. for in De pallo’s time the snipe was a holy relic and only those who braved vengeance of the silent secret snipe society ever tasted the cherished tobacco. Long ago a secret society was formed around the cigar snipe which wasn’t called a snipe it was the left over end of a cigar, , moderns cigarettes sniping wasn’t start until shortly after the first world war, when returning veterans lost their jobs and families from the unknown aliment “shell shocked” now called post traumatic

Enertialcall

mary ketching a flower Enertialcall

pg 19

Enertialcall

Feature Novel

ist

stress disorders. The first sniping societies had rules and rituals to each snipes procurement. to enter the club you had to recite the alphabet backwords as well as phonically correct , to enter each time you went in to a room ,, inside was a men,s club, a noble time it was during the first years, rebelling against the master . this rebellion was because the master said “all things on earth are mine” such that if you picked up his refuse and he saw you , YOu would get the whip or even lose a finger or arm, so the practice of picking up cigars left over in a state of frustration or some such thing, had to be left until the master had gone, but then Sniping become fierce and violent and so the reason for the sniping society.

Elders ruled who would get the snipe and the possession of a snipe was carefully monitored by the slave elders. Who were paid by the masters to care about human rights among the slaves. or at least that was how it was written , any way.. Depallo was the forefather because he prophecies the cigarette calling it , the ciggarette. and sniping was born..

Sniping is a different thing now. none of that applies, and pretend i didn’t say any of that.

Getting YOUr first snipe instuctor..

ONe has to pick carefully when choosing a snipe instructor. Years of painstaking research revealed jon , but you might want to have someone closer to you,, Jon hates to travel. a close friend perhaps or you might be worried about creating the cowardly character of a competitor,, for the snipes in you area, depending on how close he /she is. end or Leaving room for more.. of chapter one leaving room for chapter two Snipe charasteristing,, and classing your snipes for better communication about snipe stories around the oil drum. from the RE snipe to the Mega snipe,, all the way to the catillac,, we will include much information you have always need but never could find. and the hobo sniper leaving room for Chapter three Snipping for MOney,, we tell you 20 different ways,, and maybe if you are nice we will sell you a franchise in your area.

Including our own copywrited “SnipeMeat” kit leaving room for Chapter four Rolling your first snipe

Enertialcall

Feature Graphic Novelist

by Hans Rickheit

five pages from

Cochlea and Eustachia

ok i got lost.. so yes you can snipe in the rain ,, and i will describe the method later. the bag of wet snipes can become a great way of saving your tobacco ,, for purchase, selling the snipe meat you collect. and at the same time a great usage of time, pretending you are full time sniper ,, the raw hard core sniping which can be more fulfilling then saving Mother Theresa from Polio, for you collect collect collect, not stopping to feed the monkey, for you can not roll , wet snipe,, but i will tell you I promise, in the very next book,, for sale now at SMprod, The Novella “Why didn’t you tell me how to smoke wet tabbaco and my little ponies pony goes for a ride”.. Just out on paperback.. . First rule of the wet snipe.. you must get as many as you can ,, for the process then become larger,and its a production.. ,, the water proof snipe bag , available at snipe meat.com is incredible use full.. it come with tiny holes pushed into the surface of plastic shopping bag,, to let out the excess water. You can get a ten pack for only 3 dollar plus shipping and handling.. I use mine once a week up here in the great north west ,, I go into the snipe paradise of after hours bar scenes picking among butts littering the ground,, so first you might want to get over that, and puke around the nearest apartment forey. You must have the cockroach stomach ,, but then,, once that is done ,and we remind you. you don’t want any exfood mixing with your pure snipe meat product,, So after that, the process then is gathering. You snipe like normal except are a few exceptions you should have a proper little garden shovel. or chopsticks if you need the challenge. and an paper bag that happen to be lying around . I tend to use the billboard type posters,, the quality of the printing , the poundage is perfect. as in it wont wear off into the tobacco. and keep our pristine snipe meat pristener,, , this provides a stop surface for which to pick up your snipes, because snipes fall apart in water, its been happing since de pallo (whoever) was a boy. Snipes don’t like rain.

And as such we pick up the brownish fetus like particles. and place them in a water proof bag, of some sort, . and once again you have a choice of the “de-boning” them now, while you read this , or now,, as in right after you pick them up.. a thumb flick usually works well. De-boning the larger snipe from the filter,,the Act of De-boning is a question of another hour if i let it for the styles and schools of thought are many , with the thumb flick as my own choice,, minding that the peace people always get there way and have the favorite as the two finger with an inside thumb,, but the flick is what i use,, and you know. know one wrote down De pallo thoughts or that journal was lost forever in the tides of time. at least we have JOn..

You can de bone later, you will have to , at some point, but usually it is more fun sitting around a movie Say , or sitting with

leaving room for chapter five PUblishing books on poverty news..

Chapter Six.. The Wet Snpe and other s-extreme sports of sniping,, including the Gutter crawl and the Five star snipe..

When the day occurs, that is wet.. you can foret and live like a human instead of some chemistry head and forget to snipe or.. if you are like the rest of us,, your sniping nobility get upon you, and you just Must snipe ,, then this is for you.. if rain fails you and you can go without i don’t know why you bought this book.. so for the rest of us ,, them with an addiction Then with a fate almost a calling of a blue bloodedness, for royal are those who shall Snipe and inherent the earth.. .. so yes.. pg 20

you can snipe in the rain,, in fact the snipe meat is better with the self curing method ,, here describe,, stay tune for the video coming soon at snipemeat . com.. Along with all out other snipe meat products,, see chapter 15( where we describe the vacuums we have for sale.. Battery operated,, no more touching those lousy snipes.. getting your back broke for the helplessness of an addiction.. state sponsored and corporately approved suicide. ok i stole that from another “guide” his name was Henry and he smelled and was always trying to loose me. After the firt hour of following him he walk up to some cops and freaked out , went to jail just to take the twenty bucks i gave him instead of showing the Magic of a free cigerette,, no such thing the guru said , and i did believe him,, but the self cured snipe meat is the greatest,,you get all the snipe for your troubles for no one (KNOW ONE) snipes in the rain.. but FOR THE people who bought this book,, and the Handy SnipeMeat Hoody,, all weather and for sale SMPROD.COM,, and that of course is Tobacco,,the after market commoditie, untapped under utilized but foretelling of future in all things this is a Laughing At Arremgdon Production..

Enertialcall

Enertialcall

pg 21

pg 22

Enertialcall

Enertialcall

pg 23

pg 24

Enertialcall

Enertialcall

pg 25

Learning to Fly Again

by Pheonix Chicken

the cage.

At first, there is nothing happening. But right at midnight, sure enough, some fearsome demons begin to appear.

First, there are four dark sentinels which stand around the Little Birds’s cage, looking down at her.

At the appearance of these demons, the Little Bird begins to shrink even deeper into herself, huddling and twitching, muttering “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry” over and over again. And then another set of monsters begin to appear.

Ghostly apparitions which might have once been some kind of bird, they fly around the cage, dive bombing and screeching horrible insults.

little bird , Little Bird lives in a cage, hanging from a white marble gazebo in a big garden, taken care of by the gardener. She is a plain looking little brown bird. Looking at her, you wouldn’t think there was anything special about her.

But the Little Bird sings a very beautiful, very sad song. Her song is so sad and so beautiful, that people come from far and wide to hear her sing. And when they do, they weep, and feel their grief, and their sadness, and they find that they are able to release it and heal.

But the Little Bird is always sad. She is never able to release her sadness. She lives in her cage and feels trapped by her sadness. She watches the flocks of wild birds who fly past and visit the garden to forage for food, and longs to be like them, but she cannot leave her cage. The wild birds never seem to see her or talk to her.

One day, a very strange bird indeed comes flying into the garden.

It’s feathers are all red and orange and yellow like fire, and it’s legs are a bright, electric blue. It is skinny, with a bright red crest on it’s head, and a big fancy tail bursting out behind it. Eventually, it makes its way up to the gazebo, poking around cautiously, and pokes its way up to the Little Bird’s cage. The Little Bird, who has been watching the strange bird with rapt attention from the moment it landed in the garden, is extremely excited that it has come so close! She holds her breath.

The strange bird stands on the railing of the gazebo right where the cage is hanging and pokes its head up to the cage. “Hi there!”

“Oh! Well, hello!” says the Little Bird, startled and surprised. Then her curiosity overrides her surprise, and she asks, “what kind of bird are you?”

“Oh, I’m a Pheonix Chicken” says the strange bird. “I’m a very rare breed… I like to investigate things” This gives the Little Bird an idea. “Oh! Well I’ve got a big problem that I just can’t solve! Perhaps you can investigate and help me!”

This piques the Pheonix Chicken’s keen attention. “Certainly!” it says.

“Well you see, I’m trapped in this cage. I’m so very sad and tired, because there are these horrible monsters who haunt me at night.

The cage protects me from them, and I’m afraid that if I leave, the monsters will attack me! So I stay here in this cage, but the monsters, they always haunt me at night. I sing my sad song, to sooth myself during the day, and people tell me that it’s very beautiful! But I want to be free - to be a wild bird and live with a flock, and never be lonely again!”

“Hmmm, well now. That is an interesting puzzle… I will stay and investigate, and we’ll see what I find out, eh?”

hold me pg 26

Enertialcall

And so the two birds spend the rest of the late afternoon chitchatting and talking. The gardener brings an evening meal. As the sun moves closer to the horizon and the day turns to evening, the Little Bird is clearly getting more and more agitated. As darkness falls, she huddles closer and closer into her self, in the middle of

“Eeeeeiiiiiiii, you’re a bad little bird, bad, bad, bad!

Evil, mean, bad thing, Eeeeeeeeeiiiiiiiii!”

Well, this goes on, and the Pheonix Chicken can see that this is the way that things have been for some time.

It watches this scene for a little while, taking in what is happening. And as the Pheonix Chicken watches, it begins to slip into it’s second Sight. The Sight it uses to see underneath, and into, and around the surface of things. The Sight of Seeing the past-presentfuture of things as a growing tree, branching out across time.

And as the Pheonix Chicken looks with the Sight, it sees more…”Very interesting,” it says to itself.

The night passes, and eventually, the Little Bird finds some rest huddled against the battering winds of her demons. In the morning, she wakes slow and groggy. The gardener brings them breakfast. As they munch, the Little Bird ask eagerly, “What did you see? Can you tell me anything? Can you solve my problem?”

“Hmmm. I saw much,” says the Pheonix Chicken thoughtfully, cafefully collecting thoughts and words.

“Well, tell me! Let’s hear it? You have a solution to my problem?” The Little bird asks with demanding eagerness.

“Those demons… the sentinels that stand watch over you…”

“Yes, they’re horrible!” she says, shuddering. “They stand there every night, watching me, judging me!”

“They are your guardian angels.”

“What?!” stutters the little bird in disbelief…

“They bear witness to your experience and watch over you. Have they ever done anything to hurt you?”

“Well no, they never move… they’re just there, judging me…” the little bird trails off in the reverie of a shifting perception of reality.

“And what about the ones that fly and screech?! They are most certainly trying to hurt me!”

“Ahhh yes, those. They are like your cage…” the Pheonix Chicken

Enertialcall

pg 27

Learning to Fly Again continued says, somewhat cryptically. “The cage, and those demons… they are made of the song that you sing.

Your sad song, and the words you say every night, when you think that you are being judged.”

“What?! You’re saying that all of these horrible demons and this cage that I’m trapped in to protect me from them… you’re saying that these all come from me?” the Little Bird says, with open disgust. “Well if I’m creating all of this, then how do I get out of it? How do I change it?”

“Aaaah. You have to learn to sing a new song,” says the Pheonix Chicken. This means nothing to the Little Bird, but as they’ve talked, a flock of wild birds has settled into the garden and is flitting about the branches of the trees, eating seeds and berries. The flock of wild birds is happily singing to themselves, a beautiful song. The wild birds are singing their song for themselves, with no thought about spectators, but it is as if they are singing for the Little Bird. Performing a concert for her benefit. Calling to the wildness that has fallen asleep in her soul.

But the Little Bird is still frustrated and confused. “I don’t understand. This cage is made of metal, and it holds me inside of it. I can no more choose to be outside of it than I can walk through its bars.

And if I did, those demons would attack me in the night! I would have no protection!”

“Aaah, but both the cage and the demons will be transformed, and your guardian angels will always be there to support you,” says the Pheonix Chicken. But the Little Bird is quivering with fear at being confronted with responsibility for the change that she has been asking for. The Pheonix Chicken sighs. Cocking it’s head to a coy angle, looking at the cage with the Sight, peering in between the folds of reality, it says, “But, if you are creating the cage with your song… then wherever you are, you are already inside the cage, and you are already outside the cage…”

In a moment, the physical material of the cage responds to the Pheonix Chicken’s subtle unraveling of their reality, and the bars of the cage burst apart from each other, hanging separately in midair. The Little Bird is startled, and begins to panic. This is a strange experience, much like being in a house of mirrors, and she casts about herself.

Suddenly confronted with the freedom she has asked for, but not the feeling of safety that she had hoped would come first, she chirps her fear. As she speaks, her words become more bars of the cage, also hanging in space around her. She turns this way and that in her distress, “Pheonix Chicken, I’m scared! This is horrible, I don’t know what to do!”

And the Pheonix Chicken says again, “You have to learn to sing a new song! Listen to the song of the wild birds…” And as if in response to these words, the concert of the wild birds’ song builds into a great symphony, finally capturing the attention of the Little Bird. She breathes. She calms herself. And she begins to listen. And listen. And listen.

As she listens, the bars of the cage fall to the ground around her. As she listens some more, they begin to fade away. Soon though, the concert of the wild birds is coming to and end. Abruptly, all at once, the flock erupts from the trees and flies away. The Little Bird is startled again, feeling left behind and alone, and the shadow of the cage begins to re-appear around her. She looks back at the Pheonix Chicken, silently pleading for help.

“You must sing their song. You have to practice.” And so the Little Bird begins to practice singing the song of the wild birds. It is awkward and strange-sounding in her throat at first. But as she practices, the bars of the cage fade away again. “I think you’re beginning to get the idea.” says the Pheonix Chicken warmly. flock_birds_1573997iIt takes the Little Bird some time to learn to sing the wild bird’s song. The flocks of wild birds come to the garden again and again, and each time they do, the Little Bird studies their song, and tries to sing with them. As she does, slowly, the wild birds begin to see her and interact with her. Slowly, the Little Bird begins to fly again too. Just little flits around the garden at first, playing with the flocks of wild birds. Then longer flights, exploring the world around the garden.

Then one day, a flock of wild birds comes through the garden singing a particularly beautiful song. A song that madkes the Little Bird’s heart soar with joy. And as she picks up their sings and sang with them, the flock of birds welcome her. Then, all at once, the Little Bird and the wild flock, together as one mind, erupt into the air and fly away. And the Little Bird flies away with them.

She finally found her flock.

pg 28

Enertialcall

fighting with stuffed animals Enertialcall

pg 29

paper cuts Pretty dirty nasty little things hidden within lies. The knowledge that for every baby born someone else dies. Paper cuts nicking my skin, the transference of emotional to physical pain--the rush of the release, wrapped in a pupa of self mutilation only heightens the sensation of the blade sliding along my skin taking me back to where it begins.

Paper cuts--I’m

a rancid little slut or so you’ve said. I’ve heard your voice and listened to your words but what I do at the end of the day are things I want done my way.

Paper cuts I’m your dirty little whore and I must admit that I adore you..all of you the sanity and madness feels like the blade nicking my skin taking me back to where it begins.

If I act in the manner that you want me to act to the point of subjugating myself and bending to your will..will it make you love me more?

something so precious and rare that few ever really experience it. The wounds of old surface and doom this love from the start. The tragic truth about love is that you have to fight for it and if you’re the only one fighting, it’s time to let go and begin to heal. what i did to get my fathers love At the end of the day we’re ALL Daddy’s Little Girls..

I was never one to wonder what I was missing by not having a father in my life. When I was with the Danaid Sister we didn’t really think of people in terms of gender but down here on earth it’s a different ball game. I’ve always been easy going, free-heart you know out for a laugh while inspiring people to create. I started to feel my veil

internet hunting but last night to prove to my father that I’m worthy of Paper cuts I’m not your baby anymore..you’ve replaced me with a darker his love I grabbed some random version of myself that you created like the blade of the razor nicking my skin taking me back to where it guy just coming out of a club. I by begins.

Andie Leee Eames seduced him then took him into The dirty, nasty things that I did to show you that I the alley where my father was loved u and trusted you enough to have sex with you watching my deeds. as the last days flow runs between my legs feels like the blade of the razor taking me back to where it begins..

W Paper cuts I feel nothing but shame for this because it wasn’t a game to me it was my life. The dirty nasty things I allowed you to do to me takes me back to where it all begins just beneath the surface of the skin..

The End the death of love When you love someone it can make you crazy and not the good kind of crazy (fun to hang out with) but the all consuming crazy that can make you go against everything you believe to be with this person.

The kind of love that shatters fantasy--born in the blood of passion that surpasses logic and reaches/touches a secret place in your mind to justify the madness of it all.

Rubbing raw old wounds making them fresher, deeper and more biting.

The kind of love that turns confusion into rage that makes you want to kill the world and yourself to save them from the pain. Love may be a many splendor thing but it always has a price. Its a potent drug and it makes you high when things are going well. But when its bad the crash is unbearable.

You either sublimate or compromise your principles and sense of self to the point of non existence to be with this person.

Or you lash out at the person you love or loved with vicious, precision verbal attacks meant to exact the pain this person has caused you, plus a pound of flesh. Which is exactly the point--cut them out like a cancerous tumor and in doing so you think that you’re easing you own private misery when if fact you’re in a place that makes hell look and feel like paradise.

Pride, fear, ignorance and lack of trust and inexperience are all baggage brought to the table by both lovers. Scars that warped and impeded pg 30

slipped with the

I figured since I was going to kill this man I might as well Kiss him and so I did. Then when I felt the friend in his pants stand up poking me in my leg through his jeans. I kept constant eye on my father who was lurking in the shadows then I redirected my eyes towards the man who’s cock I had in my mouth and as he really got into it I fed my thirsty blade and cut the tip of his penis off and fed it to a stray dog that just happened by. My father came out of the shadows and looks me dead in the eyes as I reared back and slit the throat of “my date” I didnt blink as his blood sprayed me and my father. He smiled and clapped his hands because he wants me to be strong. He doesn’t want me to know the pain of a broken heart he wants me to be the heart breaker and he says my innocent and pixie appearance is the perfect bait.

When I killed that man I felt a rush like never before. I don’t know if he was a good or a bad person and at the time it didn’t matter..all that mattered was gaining the respect and love of my father. I know that my mother loves me and I’m free to be me whomever that is with her..The shit we go through to gain the love of a parent.

Chapter one of Dream Lover My name is Alice Logan, 27 year old head of trauma nurses at Doctors Hospital. I lead a rather ordinary life, hanging out with friends, going to the gym and reading that is my passion. I suppose you could say that I’ve a charmed life but I wouldn’t as it’s the same thing just a different day. A car crash caused by a suicidal woman driving her sports car over 85 miles per hour when she hit the rear end of a mini van killing 4 while one clung to life by an ever fading tether. The woman who caused all of this simply walked away with minor injuries.

Okay fine I get the whole wanting to die issue but what made her want to take others with her?

Enertialcall

neuro pathway Enertialcall

pg 31

<> We went to work on the sole survivor of the crash as soon as they wheel her in on the ambulance gurney. The person had multiple compound fractures

possibly a concussion due to head wound. Her head and neck were stabilize to the back board with a cervical collar and medical tape held her head to the board to keep them from harming herself and to keep her immobilzed in case of injury to her neck and spine while we work on her. A medic was straddle over the victim performing chest compressions. We moved fast to stabilize our patient...her heart stops.Looking down into her cut up and bloodied face made her think of the direction of my life; she was around my age.

I couldn’t get home fast enough I need to wash away the stains of the day. Not the blood I’m constantly doing that at work but to wash away the fatigue and try to purge from my mind that poor

woman (Jane Doe) clinging to life because of the actions of another. I stripped and drew a hot bath with essential oils and burned some candles to set the mood for complete relaxation. I climbed into the bath and it felt like heaven. I leaned back onto the bath pillows and closed my eyes as the

water lapped against ever part of my aching body. I reached for the bath loofer and poured some bath gel onto it and slowly wash each part starting with my arms. The suds felt like what you image clouds must. I heard a strange noise coming from my bedroom and seeing as I live alone with no pets I was slightly frighten. It sounded like someone walking around looking through my things. I got out of the tub soaking wet covered with suds and bubbles covering my naked body. I grabbed a towel and wrapped it round me then unscrewed the towel rack and held it like I was about to swing at an on coming pitch. My steps slow and deliberate as I walked to my room. A tall man dressed in a tuxedo with thick dark hair that curled up at the ends was standing in my room looking out of the window at the skyline.

“I don’t know how you got in here or what you want but I think it best that you leave.” The man said nothing as my heart raced crashing against my insides with a crushing force. “I said you need to leave!”

The next thing I knew I feel his lips pressed against mine. They were soft as a cherubs flutter pulled me deeply. I couldn’t see his whole face just his indigo blue eyes intensely fixed on mine. I felt a sharpness like my flesh was being cut and my heart slowing to a thud. He placed his hand behind my head and raised it up to meet his wrist

pinkey finger nail to open a vain. As his blood filled my mouth I felt and saw his life..his love..his desire, his sorrow and I felt this power coming from him I

as he used his

was more alive then Ive ever been. The beeping got louder and harder to ignore.

<> I here what sounds like an alarm clock going beep beep beep. The next thing I know I’m shocking the crash victim with my defibrillator paddles. “Clear!” I hadn’t been at home I was still at the hospital working to save this woman’s life but I had the taste of blood in my mouth and one of the other nurses noticed two puncture holes on the side of my neck that were weeping blood. The doctor instructed another nurse to take my place while I tended to my wounds.

But how could this be? How could I be bleeding from the neck from a dream I didn’t really have? Am I awake now or asleep?

The transformation begins.........The transformation begins.........

inter city pg 32

Enertialcall

Enertialcall

pg 33

another day.

by John burns

of wine and roses to spread the feelings of the last few days , i have learned recently to blame it on retrograding mercury , but what sways one way sways another, and bashful the nature to see. it is to feel what you don’t want to , and yet. Consciousness is the core we create through creating,, a responsibility and an allusion to get a head of the grade,, nothing is true. All is creation.

One fell swoop the energies of five thousand years of history,, or not .. for replace the word god with Bio energy , and say “the word was just misunderstood,,” This is a land of being. This is a land of light,, all notice against the light ,, as natural make up of mankind, is soon to be outlawed,, Corporations can be taken over, and punished,, for once the hydra is killed it can have no more heads,, all this will come with international law. the end of the days of the pirates.. further ,, and i don’t know why i am typing this but that the energy of change is around and that brings hope.. i guess, all Impovished countries , we receive a new classification,, as world park sanctuaries,, Halting all resource stealing by international corporations. as well as ,, giving back the indigenous lands,, if they swear to stay and want no more.. as in they can go to the “Urban centers” .. as in the Venus Project vision. or other United Nations Agenda Twenty One proposals. this Park will remain a world heritage. people can go to them to live, but without structures,, they can only live underground and they must go naked, and must know of the teachings of Buddha . small huts in the trees are allowed,, swings optional.

Creative centers. but first . the acknowledged meant of Techonogical spiritualism and an ancient knowledge within perceptional awareness. then the learning starts.. the Healing,, from understanding what we are, naturally, from ourselves. School educational mandates change. Teaching to learn to teach yourself. The simple flow of the internet, and all kinds of Buckminster fuller - y ideas.

But first we must learn and teach Astral travel. and come back to live. hey you bio pilot.. speaking mass of energy with the moss around you called skin and a watery upper understanding of flashing lights in a constant battle to keep the light in,, as it fires over and over, trapped in a skeleton, and only getting a slight pg 34

Enertialcall

escape with sleep.. that’s how spirits stay alive, jumping for body to body , the plant is the body. bodies are such short lasting, but really you could hang out in anything. but movement , and action.. Win Viner’s , Angel tells you all that. I learned from Seth Jane Roberts or really a long buffy haired Avatar who worked as waiter on Hollywood boulevard. A lead singer with his band, and volunteer at the local shelter. it was the late eighties and rush Awed the streets of Hollywood . “i am a light within the greater light I am a point of sacrificial fire focused within the fiery will of god and thus i stand.

And standing thus revolve to thread these these ways the ways of man to know the ways of god. i am a light within the greater light i am a strength of love and energy within the will divine. let the plan be restore to earth.” anonymous written on a napkin , three months after, i read the first chapter and completed Seth teaching. Three month (for me) four hour sleep cycles and focusing on the diaphragm while going to sleep.

I lost the job out of ambition, and was able to finish the last month, without scheduling two day to work a week.

And metaphysics become a trueism for me. Change is the only hardship, all else is fluff.

Once you open yourself you find. a wholeness. but you must need it. You must see your need for it. and you are just on a path, you can change at anytime, open to decision and leave once you have learned. you are body for a second and spirit ever on,, ghost do not seem so far fetched ..

muse ick Enertialcall

pg 35

Voices. . a short play

by Howards Greenbow

Players Voice one Voice two Man Women 30 dead people Scene- A DARKENED STAGE UNseen are thirty dead people Some with removed clothing, missing both shoes, some in blood between the people is soda cans, and popcorn boxes, ticket stubs, entertainment and fast food. , cam corders and mp3 players are attached by head phones of all sorts.. on seventy percent of them. . a cardboard box home with a solar panel is at stage right.. , trash is sparely over the whole stage like it has been blown there resting agst bodies and the carboard tent one machine gun rests against the building set on the left. , Voice one and two come in from back center stage with low lite flash lights. voices one points it at stage left and works in front of it.. and slowly walk forward. a sort of stop, walk, slow shuffle of two men .. in boots. Picking slowly causally through the pockets of the dead bodies .

Voice one You couldn’t tell me it wasn’t on purpose, The angle.. the targeting ,, a perfect shot between the teeth and out the cheek,, (in announcer voice sorta ) Headline “Cop shot in head”.. and the other one got it in the fleshy part of the shoulder. The perfect rebellion inside a social movement around a social movement with nothing to do with the social movement and now BLack lives matter, when just stage Left ,, it was Occupy, when it really was about using cia tactics. I mean I saw the movie.. the same tactics for third world control, feed the diversion control control control even our arguments are rigged,, i say god and you return allah, i say energy,, you never could understand it, and yet all the systems you could mention are ,, i mean systems of gods.. like heaven and hell, any supernaturalness you swear to.. Your mantra in houses with slanted roofs, joining into a mode ,, but its always the questions, and who proposes the questions and to what end.. The absents being the miracle. to no admit there is a control of the centralist being. The corporate clean. ,, (Announcer voice ) “keeping it live in the six majors”.. the voices move. you can hear them as they bow,, to pick through the victims ( Improvisation is to be used here and ?or Can be added for local efforts effect ) Voice two yea well no one is askin questions like that. Who would think any one would do something like that. i mean how many popcorn boxes can you replace with guns any way.. the lesson caNT BE GOING OVER AND OVER AGAIN..

Voice one They didn’t seem to mind when they increased the troop; levels in Afghanistan,, or better yet, in Vietnam, just to make sure no one responded to the coop-de-ta, No one who was old enough..

Voice two yea well you have to keep the blinders on all the time or you will go nuts, or is that sane. like you can go sane..like reasonable in unreasonableness.. or some such thing.. put on a coat and tie,, the years of brainwashing they pay for.. they Voice one Well someone has got to think about it. I mean, come on,, coke just happens to make a new soda, worse tasking ever, but they higher an underground graphic novelist before... they were called Cartoonist to do the art work.... and its great.. all over the sides of the cans,,a graphic cartoon, so cool collectors item from the start,, we thinking backward and the commercial campaign , is all over town . large signs saying “OK” everything you know cause i am in Boston and seeing this shit everywhere. it’s ok.,, Stickers and lick able stamps , everywhere is OK then the Ok cla ho ma bombing, you know Oklahoma where officials , judges, got mysteriouso calls in the middle of the night .. not to go to work the next day,, and worse .. these judges survived,, now i might might not know anything but. they survive and heard about children never called. fuck. up. Shit.. all the while the news is gone into OJ.. like they couldn’t get enough of two letter conversations. the anthrax part we Voice 2 that story is borring , and old . get over it.

pg 36

Enertialcall

three and the birth of reason Enertialcall

pg 37

a explosion Voice one.

But when do we say something. The bush gore elections , weapons of mass destruction, as reason to spend billions and funnel the money back into the very private corporations that (Announcers voice) they aren’t involved with but were as of Tuesday seen in the company of,, and still have daughters with jobs there , and its all cover ups until they sell the book rights, Voice 2 (poet voice) simple souls survive on the blindness of the eye, a curl of the blood to look. Awareness is a rich man’s crying despair, the just and unjust of it all.. on just - us and just me. and endless the agreements of a true to be, life a truer poverty to light the grace, everyone should have the same and such to degree the mind to its watery voice.

Voice one.. voice one gets a cigarette. out while voice two talks Stop that .... there comes a point when we stop doubting ourselves and stand. In if not ,, within,, the voice of some unity. for what we have seen , the control inflicted, as when we march in protest, I was at the hundredth year memorial we were facing drones with sonic weapons, Every one with ear plugs,,, but they didn’t work, we brought candle just incase and wax worked but a couple of people burnt the drums of their ears.. ya man and i am telling you ACTION voice two lights the cigarette, ---- the stage lights come up representing lighter flame lights come up. the two voices are barely seen and have magically never pointed the flash lights at each other, up till now..Their lite up figures show them as solidgers, the light just bright enough to register the guns. on their backs.. ,Rubble all over the stage, DeaD bodys laying everywhere,the voices have gloves on and a plastic shopping bag ( three bags tied sitting just behind the solidgers, ) the voices are just inside an alley. Between the buildings you can see a lights beyond, a distant low horizon of buildings,, then the space over ever after a light sky. With the first pull of the cigarette an explosion happens a couple of blocks away ,a blinding white light and the lights go out. a slight wince from voice one,, nothing from voice two. as the stage lightens as voice two has found something good,, but all you can see in his face is a little speed and focus,, trying as fast as possible to pull something out of the body, his hand under the body.. he finds a tablet..that is on, the stage lights again act like are the tablet, which he leaves on the stage behind him with the three bags.

Voice one (wincing and recovering searching a little faster) The elections in 2 weeks. What a last straw i mean i really lost it,, voice two lights another cigarette. the light from the tablet lights the stage ,, a brighter light though, like we went from a 2 to a four..

Voice one, I could tell .. but what good is that, its a harder fight when you know and need to create a fantasy,, i mean they do it all the time in wrestling..

(Explosion little closer.) i could tell but what good is that . its a harder fight when you know. and look at the fantasy and denial . that makes up life. tell me to go to work for 40 hours to seventy hours a week to insure the destruction of the earth happens on time.

Explosion!!

light goes white, then dark. lights go down..

Scene Two

description Humand couch with two lovers a sigh comes from the stage.

the tablet lays were it on the last scene, without the coach ,,the floor is again dead bodies. came two soliders havent moved picking from the bodies, Voice two I got a video from home.

Voice one then when they finally saw the troubling force of global warming what did the boobs due but sue each other. (Laughs) Voice two you know the green section is having a party tonight.

voice one picing up an arm with a watch,, he checks out the watch, takes the watch puts it on. yea yea its all a party.

Voice Two (Poet voice) the cruel hands of grace to be withheld from the whole. for a siphoning of mirth repairs the soul. and yea a party.. girls , sex you know. I get really tired of your whining, who and what and how. what the fuck like we can do anything. for all the self awareness bullshit. breathing was all they couldnt see, but that was then this is now.

I cant afford a heart but i do have the app. a heart might interrupt my video service.

Voice ONe Its still important. They keep running these evil characters before us and each one is worse than the last..jokes characters, ignorance matched to suits. Where everyone is arguing but saying nothing in order to follow.

Scene Four Human coach (five seconds) An arm raises and check on the time..

Explosion Lights out scene ends..

Scene Five (Empty) voice one and two walk along with flash lights point at the stage,, they come center stage, and point out to the audience. voice one, i think we went over there already,, Voice Two Yea, all them were picked clean like two shifts ago. . . Come on lets get back to Bio Voice one (laughing) i can believe they only under ground sheltered the government.

Voice Two . . yea well thank the Energies we are the government.

Exit voices the tablet comes on and slowly goes off. .

The end

a tablet is pulled out. the stage brightens again. a living room, clean white carpets, plants in one window, the window is hung from the ceiling. the couch and love seat are make up of the dead people. still dead.. a women and a man are making out, her hand has the tablet in it. as the lights come on she looks over his shoulder..

pg 38

Enertialcall

Enertialcall

pg 39

endless you must live but not out of fear. your sight shatters or makes whole your sights. pg 40

Enertialcall

Enertialcall

pg 41

Enertialcall Feature Ride we will ride into the desert into the sandstorm we will ride we will greet and be greeted by demon angels with hair of fire and dust and lips and skin moist with dew drops we will be shaken to the bone we will break and we will learn we will see through the mirage for the vapor trail that it is and phantoms of the mind that they are then we will ride and ride some more --2014

The Eternal Universe bounded in endless seas of stars and dust we toss and tumble through ever shifting caliginosity set in motion by laws we nonplus matter spewing at insurmountable velocity falling towards the center of the edge --2013

pg 42

P O E _ I T

The Vaporous Enchantress oh vexing vixens, no maiden fair lubricious lips and empty stares old friends, beautiful strangers and fiends lust, indifference and what lies between

Luu Lac

all wide eyed but hollow chested no contention and uncontested

Prologue The idea is to meander about, indefinitely, with no particular destination nor timeframe. Where on Earth did I come upon such a crazy and wild idea?

What drives a person to such act of desperation and abandonment? Well, the hopeless romantic in me has always been keen on the nomadic, unruly, bohemian kind of life and fond of the great yonder - there was always this sense of yearning to be with her, the great boundlessness, mother, the wild and untamable, my lover and my victum.

aw frustration, fervor, doubts, and bouts infatuation, but love not without --2013

The transdimentsionals

Feature

P O E _ I T

a transdimensional excursion into the chasm of the spacetime vortex... and I feel fine... we were thoroughly probed by a benevolent force got caught up in intangible things thru rose colored lens I sough everything wave particles warped into obscurity and eyes ablaze in kaleidoscopic purity

after the initial probing, they came back to disassemble and reassemble our transdimensional makeup Infinity in an infinite number of universes, Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve kissed your lips an infinite number of times and Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve killed my lovers in infinite ways.

I was born, have lived and died in infinity.

I am the alpha and the omega. the mother and the child. the rocks and the trees.

I am the void and the essence.

I am all and none. hate, love and indifference as one.

--2014

Enertialcall

--2013

Lovers lovers, young and old what sincere profoundness do you hold? brides to be already wedded to notions of love and not lovers to be bedded but in the name of love cried the groom ushering romantic vows but forgotten in desperate times of gloom. spare your heart for your mind has eyes and ears to perceive and pick out their lies share your love and love moments and places love with ferocity, not at written paces you are free to love lovers: both the young and old not just one and kin, but all and any with love to show --2012 Enertialcall

pg 43

Reverberation Regurgitation and in an instant, all is washed away by the bombarding waves of social streams like the beaching of roaring oceans that erodes granite megaliths into ever smaller fragments into stones, into pebbles and into the sand and dust that blanket the world over and line the beaches where we leave imprints under our weight for but a few thrashings and sweepings of the crashing waters these words, the aggregate of thoughts and emotions like the sand paintings of Tibetan monks meticulously composed grain by grain long it took and admired it was brief like the infinite marvels of the universe few will ever bear witness its awes but optimistically some will understand the forces at play Superficiality Reality

--2013

Feature P O E _ I T

pg 44

wedding photos and baby pictures celebrity gossips and idolization decadent spreads of restaurant foods shiny cars and new toys self obsession and object worship woe is me and joy is me

so much expression of self, but few genuine and original monkeys see, monkeys do, but where are the humans? inner child stowed away never to witness the light of day while sock puppet children and projected ideals parade meretricious words recycled to say trivial things over and over and over again absent of essence and void of truth mediocre minds and their petty lives hypocrites wallowing in hypocrisy never to contradict, to disagree, to self ostracize and alienate foreign is the term cognitive dissonance, but ritualistic it is in practice afflicted lives and their burdensome plights ignored while cute cats, false causes and popularity queens get all the likes entire generations bouncing about inside spheres of bubbles blind to the prickly girdles of the underclass that hoist them up will they feel the squeeze of their strangulation before the bubble pops?

--2013 Enertialcall

reasoning Enertialcall

pg 45

the world like a solid says so little.. for all the words are magnifications. More than completes,, I paint pictures which I look

Tell me where hope and the centipede meet

by K.a.Ambrose

at the whole canvas as a sum of unintentional marks, , I paint colors squizzed from from tubes,, I should only use I and we and us and them.. Art is the discovery And every day alittle more , now it is writing in a room , I have become more open of the idea of writing without a cigarette, I had the Hard boiled writer character in my mind constantly of years, the illusion for which remarked be hind me,, like my cartoon getting his day in side thoughts.. and that projection, was enough to make me feel a giggle.. but only every now and a gain. I just was hooked, to rebellion at first , Kill the body to feel the indeependance,, as yet I didn’t feel the body , I was young, feeding off television,, like free entertainment (tv in the

Sometimes there is no asking, the simple want and charm would have it.. when that is all what is next.. I like this new computer,, a new old never used computer, gliding along with the fingers tips.. the extension of me to nothing, or the you of god. You exterior and me .. a told tale so old I can only consider myself living in the dream of character.. I am animation of quantum energies in a field of blissful responses,, with other eyes leading and more from history then I can to imagine, leading feeling leading art, instinctive reactions, and doom, the fortold comedy of belief and purpose.

April 29th a first as days would pass,, a first moment for the computer new ly acquired and asking only from the

world at large , we have found enough for this.. but what happened,, Oh oh poor loins bearing no fruit but these words, turn to prey more often to find rumors intuitive in alleyways the desired find the searchlessness answered, and left to be a hox. So I am suffered and sufferer, seven seven dollars less since January from a clerical error and I receive the accumulation when they find the error I didn’t expect or complain of. Just simple yes’s and no’s .

And as the jam ends an out of place station. I can not resist to stand on the keys for a second for the movements of minds desire when only alone could it matter. And another clean journal , as the dusk turns and hope is stirred in many the callings of sanders. The living of a repression granted, and you can see the turest come ,, the blanket of western states, from to and back , gigs hole way with festivals, but we are a little town, and the streets are our character.

April 30 last day , soin our5 willingness to help enough I have given over also my work of the last few weeks. the work of the enertialcall. I means little as face is all is either reday to write again the ideas being so implanted.. and the views consytantly changing anyway. I yet. Look for the receiver and look for the placid exchange to foster the common ness of moment, before I gave over to desires.

air) insured the buy in ,, its free for now. Its addiction for later,,The “I have the hottest breasts” “no I do” ,, for all..

I have learned to write without an audience, the always coming up and asking what are you writing,, and never understanding the answer to talk about themselves or there writing,, done on notebook paper just after the high hits,, there dick and jane , their obstructionist platform to everyone.. coming up to a person writing , one means, you’re a fool who doesn’t write,, your crazy and I am hot. Or You think I am depressed and you want to help by showing your own crazyness… the streets are funny that way, giving an opening to conversation you feel,, accept you never talk to anyone first. Or you do and you are selling something.. wanting some thing,, meeting another person ,, for most is an argument with themselves for which you are the blamed exterior.

Never bother me while writing, but I have lost people I loved for it also. Never equaling by careing in reality , trying but , as I have said before. We are never our hearts enough.

And I like my newer computer and didn’t know until that last flow of words,, I am easing into this key board, I can feel the depression of the keys, I can hear the noise and I can trust for a self. Something..

Control save.

I am sitting in the house, and funny it is looking around as a transient, Reading myself. The writing on the refrigator, the paintings and music equipment, the pen and pencil drawings, the leather jacket and the G. I. Joe on the wall a small red plastic electric guitar slung in front, a dark brown knitted horse-shapped hand puppet on his right arm starting at the elbow. His black boots and fatutiges. Poised on the wall with thumb tack..

Thumb tack everywhere thumb tacks. Hidden behind each object the fast way to decorate, and what was blank is filled with my reminders that this isn’t all of it.. there under the surface of my creation is more creation. More and more come to equal life.

But this is one lives on the street and on the street is where I am to hunt , he will be out the last I am out but.. I search in the afternoon. He will be out tonight , but a good a time as any to sit on the street wall and write.

I can not remember why I sit on the streets sometimes, I have been sitting . and remember nothing. The plastic people and the tourist vibe, the streets are around the farmers market, the perfect dress and willingly romantic eyes of older women the hateful and jealous eyes of the fathers minding a flock of females, eyes which express protections for his blind birthing, but also envy for the freedom I can stand as i stand its poverty. But he could not and exchanging full folly for courage. Either/ or .

That might be just me feeling as I would with all the inadequacies of my repressed growth of a single body. plant wise conversation. Yes maybe just me seeing him.. seeing the repressions in clean clothing and snotty, sublimations of growth beyond moral climax. This is what has started me. This trying to get away from the rest of society. For me.. but this computer is new and I care not what I write, it might all get lost, the unstable technology. ., The lost consistence of a typewriter. Paper out the back end, with ink , i bought perminately on cloth ribon and roll.

But it is me I am examining, the smallness of a birth is a constellation of soicietial conditions, including class. But the keys feel good. After the long summer and winter since I lost the last computer, gone to repair service that ended in section bankrupt. Disappeared into the ether.

I have restored again , the first time for this computer. The first time I get the fear. Involved in all tech. all hope of a better world conformed to it. But it is just another separation. The list longer and longer a why we can not feel. And I just want to get stoned and write more. Feeling comfortable with the keys. Feeling hopeful of the comment, I have foragotten I am at all. It’s a calm space of cost. Cost I will not pay like you can not for freedom. For proof of self against the system, looking to control , but the audience, even the college students who have all said the same thing reading ,, you have no structure,, and what else can you create from ,, the new,, the without,, symbols have been taken where they have and the norm is foul.. contained in bible verses or perversions. To ketch an audience,, behind me to see a future. Causes nothing. To change.

A weding of spirit has troubled m. a she has joined my he,, like never before and I like to be happy, though much calls me to my depression looking around inside my problems each time I see and feel yours. I feel the arrogance made up of pretentions agasint pretentions, and the econmomics which lays golden wreaths at the feet of the ignormant.. crowns the thorn-ed head with dehydrants which create the charm of wealth good feeling but is nothing but the sufferance relied apon. Sufferance by which whole economiy move leaving people under the wheels. Diligently taken down. One by watery One. Preying on the lesser,,

From glasses house , belief in me like the fabled martyrs and magicians of old. Guide energy

to feel the creation of me..

A short self montra maybe,, an oppisite to the sufferance society .. the “forget about it” claivoance.

I can not see the screen in the complete sun. like light is again here enemy .. backward.

picking the last flowers pg 46

Enertialcall

And flittering thoughts is all I get. Structure so normal I can not survive it.. the focus ater,, so many little concussions. So many little ,, for get what love has been told you.. forget what memoryes that were inspired by videos, inspired by stories on a screen, and sub consciously planted what is all, the common mind. The “has a job and talks out problems,, “ when

Enertialcall

pg 47

“My mother had abandoned me for a vagabond musician’s life. After she hooked up to you, she became particularly attuned to the pain of others, including me. We were reunited soon after, and I spent the next few years at her side for the “Tom Songs” concerts. Each more emotional than the last. The world is transformed, and you are the hero of multitudes.” Alice’s eyes welled, and Tom knew the busker was gone. “She felt no sacrifice too great and burned bright until her light went out.”

DAnn Linn’s

Steam Punk The Awakening

(continue from Issue 12)

The steam punk returned to consciousness

Tom wanted out. The ball was becoming overwhelming. He has known solitude most of his life. At a glance passed between highly disciplined squad members and a phalanx formed around his tentative lean toward a nearby balcony sweeping him like a seed in a pod to be spit into the open air and his first moment of semiprivacy since waking. So much had happened, and he stopped short at the spectacular view of the city. Did he know this world any more?

like forest fire, nerve ending votive candles lighting the faithful’s prayers.

It was both excruciating pain and system check. Images float before his good eye and rezz in front of his camera. He hears a voice, “Wait for it.” She looked like his favorite busker, but … fresher. Then the arctic fire inverted to a … “buzz?” It was pleasant! He sputtered in wonder. “We have fixed your pain. The least we could do.” “How?” “How? Well, that was the whole reason for all of this.” Her small hand motion seemed to symbolize a much larger “whole”. “That was the reason for the formation of the Empathy Society.” Tom Savery’s steam punk mechanic’s mind struggled. Pain, a constant companion for the purpose of measuring the functions of his hydraulics. Now he felt the gauges and pulleys, as a buzz or click. It didn’t feel the same.He was able to set it aside for the pure esthetics of the girl’s face shining.

“Everyone’s crying to meet you!” His curiosity is only matched by a growing euphoria so unusual as to be a bit terrifying. His clothes seem much finer than his usual second hand doll clothes. He took a delicious breath and was led into a cavernous ballroom. A single hand clap became a rolling thunder of such enthusiasm he looked around to see if someone else had followed him. “Where do I set up?” He knew how to play gigs, and the steampunk figured he had a job to do.

She laughs like cocktail glasses tinkling. “You aren’t playing, you are the guest of honor.” A banner read: “Welcome To The Tom Savery Institute Benefit For The Empathy Society Grand Ball”. He blanched, he didn’t start an institute. His eyes focused on the “Our Story” history on a printed program. “She was a street rough musician until the fateful day her arrogance persuaded him to ‘hook me up’.” “A nanosecond of his daily existence changed her forever.”

“The Empathy Society was formed by a description of suffering that so touched our society as to make compassion the primary motivation of a generation. She contributed his discoveries in bio-nueral-hydraulics. She knew the suffering he endured could help others, and began to solve the “tolerance” issue, the money poured in to turn the ship of scientific curiosity ferociously toward wide implementation.” How could they engineer Tom’s modifications on others, and where had he been?

In order to survive, wired is he to engines, overcoming ravages, of body’s limitations.

If you possibly could, in wildest imagination, endure constant current, from electrical connection.

One’s muscles bunched, to near break bare bones.

Our vital organs crunched, in insides turned to stones.

“It could have been you”, is what I saw in his eyes, expanding sympathy grew,

pg 48

never ending empathy cries.

Her eyes sparkled, it was almost as if she could turn a switch on.

She went on breathlessly, “The descriptions of his pain caused an epidemic of sympathy. People fainted at concerts of the ‘Tom Songs’. The outpouring of charity moved mountains. I,” she beamed, “am a member of a local chapter. We are called the ‘Cryers’, as in The Victorian Hall Cryers’. We are known for dramatic demonstrations that include the “river of tears” marathon weeping for pledges of donations.” She knew this story as if it were woven into the fabric of her being.

He looked around and saw women, and men, with elaborate makeup in stylized streak-and-tear patterns on the cheeks of smiling and well fed society types. Lapel pins seemed to award status based on who had donated the most. Hospital representatives’ displayed their levels of efficiency, and ratings from patients. Serving refreshments were some who wore outfits with the words “holder” and “plaguer”. One approached Tom with water and whispered, “Sufferer. I pledge to do my best in your honor.”

The Ball became a whirl. Beset by scientists and doctors from many academies, it was explained how researchers could compete like athletes for massive grants and were celebrated by admirers among artists of all disciplines. Finally, one actually took pity on him. “I am Dr. Albert Beneficial. You look confused.” He had one of those smiles one had to trust. “We are reverse engineering your self-mods.

Your discoveries have helped so many more than you.”

The Ball became a whirl for the steam punk. Beset by scientists and doctors from many academies, it was explained how researchers compete like athletes for massive grants and are celebrated by admirers among artists of all disciplines. One took pity on him. “I am Dr. Albert Beneficial. You look confused.” He had one of those smiles one had to trust. “We are reverse engineering your self-mods, Tom. You have no idea how many your discoveries, Mr Savery, have helped.”

It finally occurred to Tom to check his chronometer, he gasped. “Has it been?” “Yes, Mr Savery. It has been fifteen years. She couldn’t stand to see you suffer another minute, turned you off, and found the first of the ‘Takers.” It wasn’t until recently, we could be sure you would not suffer again. Her strangely familiar features seemed to come to a decision. “I know why your staring.” She said, “Yes, it’s true. You do know me. My name is Alice, and I am the busker’s daughter.”

Enertialcall

Music wafted out onto the balcony. The Steam Punk was drawn to it despite himself. Was he ready to go back in? He is a musician and his artistic curiosity might have won out, but he had lived outcast and his experience was to comply with rejection by bugging out. He had his retractable cable to repel off the balcony, took a quiet alternate route out of the building, and found himself on the streets of an altered city. Just how altered, he was about to find out.

The giant bum laughed. “I told ‘em I wouldn’t have a metal arm, but it don’t hurt when I want to lift a glass. It don’t hurt at all. So you are the “Tom” who’s the ‘father of invention’, eh?” Tom noticed the wire frame arm on the man and what looked like a compact carbinol converter, telltale steam escaped. “My name is Roger Ratt. I am king of the Plaugers.

I won’t give nothing to the charities. That’s why I live on the street.” Tom had to respect this pure contrarian.

“All those fancy shirts and crying jaggers can clean my cock!”

Roger grabbed his crotch with the mechanical hand and blinked. “I have to stop doing that! I was left handed when it was real.” Tom almost painfully suppressed a smile. He liked this giant rebel. “A man can’t go nowhere without some peer ‘teer begging for me to make them look better. If it was voluntary, why would they be so insistent? I just push past.” “Let them suffer,” he whispered.

Roger Ratt had nothing better to do than rail against the charities.

“Ever’ since those concerts by the “busker”, people been falling all over themselves trying to show who cares the most. There was a ‘boom’ of emotion, then the schools and the hospitals started spending all the money that poured in. All of industry fell in behind to serve the cause of ending suffering. “It’s getting so they seek out the happily broken whether they wants fixin’ or not.”

Tom noticed a man cleaning cobblestones. Roger gestured angrily, “Man can’t make a mess no more. ‘Least I can leave stuff laying ‘round at my ‘room” Roger explained that even though he had a nice apartment, he preferred to live on the street like he did before. They propped up the housing value by filling all the vacancies with homeless and letting landlords call the cost a charitable contribution. Now its all about the plaguing status that can buy.

A man walked by and focussed dumbly on Tom. Realization seemed to dawn like a shadow moving up a pole. “You!” He took a newspaper from under his arm. Looked to the front page, to Tom, and back. “You made the paper” He turned the print toward the steam punk. It said. “Tom Savery eludes a squad of Caretakers”

Roger beams with admiration. “You escaped the ’Takers? I am glad I am here to see the stick stirring that anthill!” Tom wonders about how much trouble he might have caused good people.

The man with the newspaper blinked, turned, and skittered off. Tom’s gauges started to register the vibrations of running feet. “You know how I can get out of here?” he asked the big bum. “I guess it’s time to show you why they call me King Rat” They were just climbing down the manhole when the people pounding feet rounded the corner. Tom had thought about just waiting for them until his the the wild look in their eyes. They seems to be jostling to get ahead of each another. He felt panic coming on. X It wasn’t very long ago Tom was at a party that seemed to be in his honor, now it seemed he was a fugitive from a mob. King Rat seemed to be enjoying himself. He was humming. and smiling. Tom glared and he wiped his smile off. “Yes, these sewers are new as new, built by Utility Charity tryin’ to keep things clean. I was able to elude the service agents for long enough to annoy the smiles off ‘em. I’ll bet you have every ‘taker from here to sunset after you.” Tom felt an unfamiliar panic.

“In your case, it so happens they will be running in a swarm. It’s all about who’s first.” King Rat hustled merrily along the sewer walkway. “They will be wondering where we will come out, but will not abandon each other for fear they’ll miss the tag.” It was then he felt a rumble rise, multiply, thunder past, and dissipate like a rain shower on a sunny day. All he needed was a safe place to rest his nuts and bolts, ruefully.

Tom poked his head out of the manhole. The swarm rolled off in the distance. They had to be some minutes off. He blinked and his camera wiper snicked. He could barely make out a strangely familiar figure in the dusk.

He got up to take a closer look. The closer he got, the more steam rose. It was him posed like some dress shop mannequin. He remembered being on display and hadn’t liked it, not a bit. He picked it up, scurried to the sewer and pulled it down the hole behind him.

“You can’t have that! None of those is ’sposed to move. They’s reminder bots. See? They have tear ducts built in - crying like they feel the pain - your pain. You have to put it back or they will find us.” Tom stepped beside his representation. “These are all over? I’ll return it, but not until I memorize the pose. I am getting an idea.” His stepped beside the statue, settled his bones and servos, and froze. “I can’t tell the difference.” says King Ratt.

Tom stood stock still as the young man approached the platform. “Plague it, Sufferer, I can’t bear not being the first to tag you. I was a fortnight Caretaker ever since my father could no longer be Guild, and now I won’t be able bring home the benefit of claiming the longest tag. I simply cannot push others out of the way, its plaguing unseemly.” The boy was near tears and trembling. For Tom, it was all he could do to remain stiff. He had much more to learn.

Tom stood frozen on a platform bearing his name. He heard a small voice out of range of his ocular camera. “Sufferer, sir, if I could talk to you in person, I know you would help my dear mother, but she is up for promotion at Outreach Central, and will not present herself for servicing. Her above average empathy scores are because she is in so much pain. I would be happier if she reported, but she wants the status points for my advantage. It’s all my fault!”

His platform pose was becoming familiar, but the visitors were of wide variety. From sobbing matrons to children, it seemed that everyone was used to taking up their personal problems with his image. Sometimes it felt nearly divine, but other’s. well it seemed he was the bucket in which all the sewage of society collected. “These bureaucrats will be the death of all us! It’s not enough that they compel the people to submit to health checks, but the mandatory inoculations invade our very bodies.”

Tom froze. “You seem so real to me. I believe you have saved my life. My Enertialcall

pg 49

carbonal converter runs the servos that process my poor blood. The system tells me when it’s not pure with a twitch in my ear. I know that is just a nerve connection, but it feels like special knowledge. To imagine you without the pain modifier is a terrifying thought, but it had to be for the advances made.” She spun away prettily. “And now I am a dancer. Thank you for the dreams come true.”

“It’s not just the hospitals, it’s all the public works. Water for drinking and cleaning, power plants for energy, sewers and sanitation systems, transportation, communications, all this infrastructure bent to the task of ending suffering. We have taken on a re-structure of society in your cause. Tom Savery.” The man’s ernest tone spoke for his generation. “I cannot imagine us ever returning to the old oligarchy. What good is gold to a starving man?” The question had never occurred to the steam punk.

The woman was sullen. “I cannot get advanced admiration credits no matter how I try. I believe that though I have gone to the cryings, just because I tire and want to leave early, I am impoverished in the Contribution Bank. It’s just not fair. Just because some are so dedicated, does not mean I do not also care. I just don’t parade my concern around like others. If you want to know the truth, I’d rather just earn compliment coin in the promenade struttings. No one is more beautiful than me.”

A young man looked hard at his hero with a mechanical eye that rotated with small servos of wondrous delicacy. The steampunk’s augments were found in numerous local citizens in a dizzying array of permutations. From iron plates, rods, and gears replacing what was damaged or missing, to synthetic organs, all monitored by intricate gauges, his overcoming of pain and the body’s urges toward rejection, he had laid the groundwork for medical miracles. He was haunted by what he hadn’t done.

“I went to the Steam Bank to check my balance and found I had been rewarded handsomely for the extra efforts I have been making at the No One Goes Hungry grocery. I just clean up, but I am told I contribute just by being my smiley self. Isn’t that nice?” Tom stood, still processing the idea of pay being being collected by steam. He had learned there was a mechanical counting machine of some kind employed there. “I will have some extra to give to the charities this month. Wish us all sweet relief, Sufferer.”

Some people will complain that the sky is too blue. The Steampunk heard all manner of petty matters mouthed by various levels of society, but one day a man in an administrator’s badges decided to reveal more than he might have, had he known Tom was actually there. “This fool is in my way! I will make a large amount of the ‘Criers purse mine. Just one soul will have to separate from life a bit early.” Tom’s private investigation was over. This killer’s plan was about to come to an unexpected end.

While Tom was on his fact-finding mission, his friend, Roger Ratt, had been hilariously mute about his encounter with the Sufferer. He had been threatened, cajoled, persuaded, interrogated, and castigated, and had not said a word. Moreover, he was enjoying it! When Tom snuck up on him, the giant bum hugged him for his part in the making the man the most controvercial personality in town. “Here’s what you do! You could arrange a total touch-quest of a ’Taker taggin’ tea party.”

Tom needed to find Alice. She was most likely to be able to shield him from the throngs trying to be the first Caretaker to touch, and therefor have rescued him. While he didn’t know the whole story, it was clear to him that he did not want people climbing over each to pg 50

get to him. It sounded positively dangerous, and if there was a purse to be claimed, he was going to choose it’s distribution. “She’ll be at the Crier’s Quarters. Looks run down, but that’s an affectation.” snarked Roger.

The city woke the next day to newsboys crying out, “Tom Found!

Read it all!” and “I only wanted to observe, says the Sufferer” The city found out he had been listening to the stories of people by posing as his statue. The public were amazed and more than a few of them terrified at what they might have said. A young student discovered his mother would be treated and not lose advantage, and an administrator found himself in Plaguer colors, far fallen, and remorseful.

“Oh Tom” said Alice, “You should have had some time to adjust. No one holds it against you. The x-Caretaker’s son, is a beautiful choice for your tag, and you have taught us much about how our zeal can hurt those who toil to serve.” Tom’s reports were like a breath of fresh air. He was now ready to find out how this society was organized. He asked to have Roger Ratt as an advisor. “Tom,” said Alice, “You can pretty much do as you like. no one has any desire to imprison you.”

An economy based on charity requires verifiable trust, so most transactions were highly transparent. No one wanted to be painted with the insult, “holder” or a “plaguer”. Shortages required creative distribution of goods, deficiencies caused other parts of the economy to suffer. Infrastructure was designed and maintained as part of the public mission. The governing councils were combinations of elected and career managers that earned their positions through their accomplishments.

Banking in a charitable economy requires record keeping that cannot be questioned. Tom toured the economic settlement areas. He was most intrigued by the steam driven accounting machines. Truly technological marvels, the balances of thousands were kept available for access by all the institutions of society. All expenditures were tracked and fraud was almost non-existent once it was recorded here. People had private fortunes in possessions, but the real wealth was here.

“We don’t do engineering or inventing, like you, but like you, we celebrate the artist’s heart. Folks need uplifting, and we follow the Busker’s example.” There are as many schools dedicated to Arts and Letters as to science and engineering.” Tom was particularly moved at a performance by the Challenged Choir, a group of highly motivated individuals of multiple disabilities, who were highly respected celebrities. One soloist sang, “I cannot speak, but neither can the sparrow, hear my wings.”

Tom looked for the dark side of things. He had a nagging feeling his was seeing the sanitized side of this culture. Where was the greed? Where, the darker nature of man? Roger was sheepish, “Things ain’t so bad really. No one wants to go back to the old days of deliberate squalor.

They weren’t that great for anybody, but if you want to see where the darkness goes, I’ll take ya. There’s a part of town where the “volunteers” live. They know me. I have times I need me some disorder.”

acquaintance.” said the upside-down man. He seemed quite secure in his harness contraption despite the tremulous way he held out his … foot. “We are in no way pleased to meet you.” “That means he is honored“ said Roger. “He is our most clever Mad Hatter.”

Everywhere Tom looked he saw perverse beauty. Modification altered beyond simple utility to forms of expressions that glorified what might have generated only sympathy. When a dance troop asked to perform for him, He was treated to a performance that simulated a drawing and quartering, but because of mirrored prosthetics, were transformed into a cosmic astronomical galaxies of color. Suffering morphed to transcendence, and Tom was moved to tears.

“Mr. Inventor, sir, you have built-ins that are not exactly essential.”

Tom thought the translucent skinned twins seemed to be speaking at the same time. “What is your opinion of vol-mods?” He opened his mouth to speak and immediate reconsidered. What was being asked?

No one had ever asked him to take a moral position on what he had done to change himself to become more functional. He really didn’t think required permission concerning his own choices about his body.

“What I did to myself, girls, I would never visit on others.” “That was before the blockers,” said Allie. Eilla added, “They make it humane to mod by request. I so love my twin that I was able to prove I suffered enough to be allowed to match her.” The two dancers each had matching prosthetics operating in normal and enhanced ways. What they can do is far beyond the means of fully limbed performers. “I do not deserve to be labelled a self-mutilator. I am more beautiful with her.” Tom nodded in troubled agreement.

Among the artists were “naturals”, with birth defects like Tom, with more deliberately artistic mods. They might have been dubbed “freaks” but for the company they kept. People who are skin and bone art projects. The natural Siamese twins had a certain status among those who had become as much bird as human, or much woman as man. All were certified to have demonstrated they were not medical liabilities. No one had the right to jeopardize care for those who suffer.

All over the Seceder Zone Tom found people who had made artistic choices about their bodies. These ranged from tattoos and decorative piercings to highly diverse re-imaginings of human appearance. The morals, psychology, and public opinion of decorative modification were subjects of doctoral thesis dissertations at the local university, and used as components of popular literature. For Tom, it seemed his inventions had been taken too far for his comfort.

Over in the corner Tom saw all sorts of elaborate constructions of torture. Scantily clad women and boys appeared to be menaced by hulking behemoths or threatened by snarling ring masters. “I hesitate to ask, but how is torture happening in public?” Roger smiled, “Want to meet the most renowned submissive in our world?” Tom didn’t know what to say. “Here then. Dot! Want to meet the Inventor?” One particularly precariously dangled girl, did a little twist in her ropes and slipped lightly to the floor.

Clean went to dirty pretty abruptly. There was no checkpoint, but he knew he was watched. “This is the ‘Seceder Zone.’ You might want to keep your wits about you. No one is likely to mess with you, you are still a hero here, but folks here take pleasure in shocking behaviors.”

This was starting to look a bit more familiar to Tom. He thought he might have a good time here, until the first face curled to a snarl. “Hey Sufferer! I’ll bet you can’t wait to get back to the charity whores.”

“All this ‘deviance’ is play my dear. Want me?” Dot cooed. Tom had rarely seen such a beautiful woman with such an air of willingness.

One could see all sorts of possibilities dance in her eyes. “The theater of our minds is the stage I tread. I doubt you can figure any torture I haven’t simulated.” “Truly, she is quite the illusionist,” beamed Roger. Tom was confused. Was this a place where ‘anything goes’?

“Anything? Certainly right up until someone is actually hurt. No true psychopaths here.”

Tom feared mob madness but it was just laughter. No one took the things said in the ‘Seceder Zone’ seriously. “You will want to meet the ‘Hatter’. He is in the Hall of Deviants.” “Awfully terrible to make your

Tom was disgusted. He thought he had followed Roger into a ghetto of madness, and not a theatrical district. “I’m sorry Tom. I thought you

Enertialcall

wanted entertainment that was outside of commonly accepted behavior, not a ‘CC Lounge’. Roger explained, “when one shows an actual urge to harm themselves or others, there is a place for them to go. It is called a Crisis Clinic. Only the most dedicated ‘teers work there. Some physicians study the minds of true madmen. It’s grim work Tom.” No one seemed very grim at the Crisis Clinic Lounge. In fact there were so many cheery faces, it was hard to tell the patients from the staff. “One cannot be sure they are really quite in need of help until something falls apart and one either reaches out or fails to thrive. So many mentally challenged were, at first, left to fend for themselves. We have a saying, “There are some things that happen in life that would make any sane person unhappy.” We work to curing poor circumstances.

Of course there are those who cannot be cured of an antipathy for life.

Those whose lives have been warped by wiring that cannot be rerouted.

For men and women who simply cannot help but be an irretrievably imminent danger to everyone there are prisons, but without bars or guards, for the inmates are quite immobile. Tom’s pain modifiers have been further adapted for the criminally insane. So few in number that their sentences are by public consensus. Everyone knows of the ‘frozen’.

Tom was an engineer, not an economist or political scientist, but all he had seen began to look good to him. This is not a bad way to organize a society. He put overcoming his shortcomings at the center of his agenda and so, it seems, had the people here. While there must be power corrupting at some level, it seemed less likely with real problem solvers in charge. While there was healthy commerce going on it did not necessarily rule every public decision. Where is the fault in this system?

Alice sang to him, “And what is it you would rather do, when you have set your trials aside?

What heroics ‘twould you aspire to, If you, your soaring wings could ride?

For we will ask no more of you, than the best that you can do.

Every child deserves its vision, every hero their triumphant yell, when returning from your mission that every heart has a story to tell.

For we will ask no more of you than the best that you can do.

“There’s those who are too polite to clamor for you, Tom. Researchers want to know how it is you made some of your discoveries. Fund-raisers want to see you tell you story. Musicians are dying to hear you play. All you need ask yourself is what you want to do today.” said Alice. Tom had thought about a private lab, adjoining an elaborate studio, and some avenue to add his voice to the collective chorus, but he had not seen enough, his skeptical heart needed to audit this world.

Tom spoke to a High Commission special session. “I come from a time that embraced its mistrust like a child’s first blanket. I want be the stranger in this land, the proof of its good will, and light upon quiet corners. I ask to form a commission to re-assert the principles on which we are organized. I do not seek any power but the ability to go where I might with members of all levels of society from administrator to engineer, from crier to plaguer. Let us re-affirm.” The ovation confirmed.

Tom was finally at the gate of the city. He had walked in a straight line.

To get to the edge. There he found the World Hospital and Village Trading Enertialcall

pg 51

A rebellingham Production

M

The

e l l ingham

Tempest auditions Oct 4-6

R

-e B

e lectiv

ater Col

e r k Books a B .t the at

a r k M e il c t

hold me too pg 52

Enertialcall

Pu

b

1530 Conwall ave. Bellingham Wa & On line!! http://mtbakerbooks.alibrisstore.com

E.C. people get a discount on line check it

Enertialcall

pg 53

Main st Bar and Grill 2005 Main st

Ferndale Wa

K.A.Ambrose (Kenny)

K.A.Ambrose

Most Wednesday nights 830-11pm the HoneyMoon open mic. â&#x20AC;&#x153;The Me-aid placeâ&#x20AC;? 1053 n.state st Alley entranse

Use your first amendment rights.

Gutton free Music Bellingham, Wa

PRESENTS Some times at the Green frog Mondaynight

pg 54

K.A.Ambrose 7-9 pm

Thursday Sept 29th

513 South First St. La Conner, Wa

gods in love Enertialcall

Enertialcall

pg 55

In a dusty little town in nevada. A horse with little to no name become queen of the world by seeing the world without end inside self. There in that vain attempt to understand life she saw a nature of being that transended horse, cow person or plant, but could... with minor alterations... escape .those penned in names for an all of energy of a perfect place

a bornhorse short Internes O’Clair

So thinking she left.

by

Walking on the path between what was is and could be, she escaped. It was like being a colt fresh from darkness to splay on the ground, hooves in four directions .. into a world less warm with the wind. less wet than that whole wetness. But there was heat and light with the windy welcome .. Differences which marked the beginning of free will and adventure to spirit. The barn , the field . the fence all new . all different then the cave with voices and a steady heart beat.

No the world was bigger than all that and the years taught lessons that weren’t idyllic. Electric fence and the yelling man with the edible hat. The same man with carrots , fresh and clean, each named thing mother told her, carrot , fence, man. we name them to refer to them , she says, each will refer to us also. different names from each , for one barks , and another meow.. Animals cant understand each other that well so awareness is used though body language.. a common language says very little. One knows when you listen to the humans constantly trying.

A simple different which looks to understand what is an energy and forgets the common I.

will , then to fly but not be able to stay up long. Everything had to be relearned each time one approached it.. the years passed that way , but mother had taught her to breath , that is why horses can run for so long, breath is a nature dedication to spirituality. a female come out sometimes , and called her Sade. She brought sugar and it felt good to run, even though the girl would ride her , she liked the weight driving hard on her spine. the girl was light and the body on top felt like a heart beat. A feeling of closeness outside of mother, where there hasn’t been a touch for so long. time passed quickly with the sade. and told of time as illusion. fast times when you don’t see things, awareness is controlled to the law. so the years passed and telling the self, become the matter, once she could , she would tell everyone. They could transcend with vibrational wave recall aastral travel and love breathing. so she kept working, and slowly she could fly and switch environments until one day while out running she found a place to lay down, a perfect place then she had to decided between living the power or going back to teach it,, a perfect place to lay , the grass a glissing green spearing to the sun, raised like Aztecian warriors forever offing salute,, a perfect place, today.. to help the others she remembered, as she took a little break , astral and again. the day passed quickly , she never got up . the place was perfect.

a story of repetition and sufferance.

Fini

but Mother also didn’t feel her way though the values mankind placed on her,, Those seemed so little to matter. She

breathed and taught her colt to breath. And she was left alone until she was taken away. the young one had come to one year old and it was time for mother to go . the last thing she said was “breath”

so then it was a fine day alone when she realized she could feel. and then to feel different from the second before she could see and breath and then become royalty a Queen she said,, the metaphysics come so easy after one learns to breath , the flying through an astral maze just because the maze is what one knows of the metaphysics, the learned through dreams and implanted sub conscious of a one, when the dream is an all.

She tried to tell the chicken and the cow.. the squirrel and rat, but no one would listen and its hard to whinny in rat to tell elaborately the word breath . It made the brian hurt to try any more. and then the astral way really

opened ,, not waiting for the communication and acceptance of others. She could astral passed all she was trained. but that elaborate common I ,, still quested to stop her, restrained

Leatwo pg 56

Enertialcall

her, with a mothers voice, but it was only the history of perspectives , old feeble prespectives that withheld her, yet she kept breathing and found a simple connection which explained though joys, simple joys the path was lite.. a matter of revealing intuition, ghosts and coincidence, she was lucky she knew others had been indoctrinated. the rabbits had large families, and werer forever getting to graze and getting back. with mother gone she had no one , no one to consume her breathing to cause stresses to defeat the spriit purpose of feeling. but it wasn’t easy . the first dreams where short lived, upon feeling the failure to fly at

Enertialcall

pg 57

Feature Novel

ist

other sniper, discussing the art and legacy of the Stinebeck snipe , as compared to the twelfth century slave sniping which i like to do.. but never the less, the option is there. to separate at will.. ( no overlords here) We go once again to our snipe spots, like normal.. but this time you notice , a full coffee can of wet snipes,, no one else has taken them like normal.. usually its empty ,, but around is always something,, its a good spot don’t argue,, and be not discourage ,, a wet snipe is still la snipe and with our quick and easy method , we can turn other peoples toxic sludge into a finely rolled Snipe meat product ( see chapter three Sniping for money ,, and more. ) here also there maybe some resnipes for they all will just go into the bag. Now once remember this provides some great opportunities, Smokers who leave snipes will congregate more often and leave the pickings in a more concentrated space, like outside of a court house early morning. any where you can get out of the now pouring rain, don’t be scared of a little water, you have your normalo read for anything snipe meant accessories to get you though,, or not..

maybe i forgot to mention , the outfitting of a sniper is best done through our snipe catalogue where we rip the tages off clothing , we find at the Sally and resell it to you , on e-mail with first class postage and handling required..

All attire is multi layered and is resistant to watery effect these layers are really think,, we

recommend five layers. and two or three beaneyes, it gets wet ,, but you have more layers on, all available at SMprod.com , can you tell there is two people writing this.. so cool. the mall is open now. Where also you will find a fine selection of posters ripped off billboards, and in fact there are little shovels stolen form kid sandboxes,,at three in the morning.. i mean bought and used a little. , You can even use chop sticks if that be your passion. the old on and off of it. buy both and save time with the right tools..but that snot all here at smprod.com we also come out with a magazine called,, snipers world not to be confused with the sniper digest,, sniper digest is where the snipe story is told The “world” lives it,, with on the street interviews, and live treatment

videos. deboning secrets,, and the five star sniping tour. all in quick paragraphs for easy reading while still searching for Snipes.

Now we have gathered, a couple of bages,, our fingers are brown, our nails are black, and the mark down the side of your face says you are a working man,, or involved in a traffic wreck but it says something.. whatever,, and it is time for the drying process,, come back to the kitchen with me,, unless you would rather go through the twenty four hours store and use the microwave,, i warn you the later is not guaranteed to work. There are conflicting difference between store owners and how they treat customer , when you come in smelling of wet cigarettes and alcohol and want to use the microwave, so you dont ask and proceed to that snipe dehydration unit,, and simply put them in .. for a minute,, Well that didnt work,, try for longer,, the tobacco is just getting hot and wet,, but you try again and now the whole place is starting to smell of cigarettes the sweet roasting smell.. but at that time you might want to kick soon, the smell is starting to get the Worker bees attention, . you say “fuckum if they can’t take a joke” but they call the police. normally but yet your snipe meat is almost done, you just have to wait a day, keeping the meat dry and it will dry on its own.. tomorrow’s smoking delights you say with a lusting eye, but for now go back and gather more.. a glutton on wet snipes means you have succeeded in foiling all the other snipers,, and you win some prize somewhere. here in the kitchen take your debon-air snip meat, in it’s virgin formlessness , where the tobacco has already turned to a brownish water line drawing. Depending on the necessity, you might want to dab the tobacco.. to get out as much water as possible and then spread them over an oven pan, thinner is better.. minding to further de-bone as you go. The cigarette papers mulch should be out of the process so that you are left with pure tobacco sludge,, unlike corporate tobacco,, except for a couple.of brands hell you could buy donkey shit cigarettes in TJ. . but even first market cigarettes should just be called smokables for all the chemicals in them.) into said oven, at three fifty for less than a minute and then check it for every minute after being careful to push around the Wealth and further debone,While you roast to perfection,, the romantic weed for which you have given so much , the final process is always taste.. and if you might how your tobacco is drying you can get a fine mix,, perfect for that rainy sunday, and that perfect girl. . the final ease tastes great and smokes like all the work you put in.. a note on the cooking process , YOu want to get use to how long you bake it for, as in the darker the tobaccos the longer its in,, and also if you let it in without turning it it will smoke its self, so you have to be careful with this, as to how not waste all you efforts. Please remember to buy a pound of snipe meat “Rain day Blend” to really know, or just to taste a good roast. after you have your tabacco, smoke away,, oh you cant roll. what? you must be shitten me, fucken want me to do everything for you.. ask you local teacher,, no fuck that read the next paragraph, or not. j

pg 58

Enertialcall

red white and blue and yellow Enertialcall

pg 59

Delicacy of naming i am the delicacy of naming extremes important.

Enough to share what is hope and safety. Nothing is secure the transcendental waves of tide prove that i live under a volcano which every one calls a mountain,

executives.

Stains nostrils can only stand lying in shits of three piece suits and shallow grins , the special. shut up. kenny no blame. a second is among each moment, Breath,

and we feel the earth move under us, maybe a trillion ways to react but for me it reminds .. what quakes under us, or maybe i have a nerve disorder and feel this minor movements on my own and its astral energies and gods of remembrance saying

I can not escape in the car enough, the office and the hours of spell checked musing. A habit of life i will have to call it some day. I could never feel the motive recognition of cash enough. , or critiques, for which i know it is, i was laid bare by the “Condemned of Alltona” a play about a man speaking into a tape recorder, in an attic, in bed mostly, like the last stage and first to kafka’s bug life. A storm of useless pre-sighted sights like the last of humanity had to be written down before the Nazis burned it all.. Now we hope with whole servers own by the same multi level conglomerate killing off poor people.. Letting them die charging tickets for their death , in a war of cash and control in housing,, whole servers filled with utterances of people in small silent rooms, .. hidden in aluminum foil boxes which constantly updates in cycles, one is in the box at all times against the e.m.p signals on random homeland security trucks,, Steal and replace is the mission for all that they can;t e.m.p beam. So there’s that.

Awake swollen and ugly child, trees celebrate your movements, little fingers grasping air and letting go, so amazed at being not god.

tiny pokes in the air. for what is natural is always there. movement away from crimes of trust we’ve had to little of love and such staged dramas in wild fires. liquid and sin-a-matic. .. poverty tourist riding a bike, wandering the forbiddens, a random stop and a father’s dead by the fortieth second.. “ i was almost homeless once” all before hello which he never said.

I accept poverty as a life style I answer.

It is a pre destination of writing , one finger, one key, punching tiny wholes in the galaxy.

Where freedom of the press has become an artistic presence of a day long ago. Media the right , only of the six propaganda ad-ministers. or and yet.

Here we are so many voices thorough out telling simple logic to a natural process. And as we understand consciousness we sub-devide for a closer and closer guide to water based design, not purely philosophic, for breathing and body awareness cure many aliments, an appreciation for nature in all systems. We are creating an Absorbed awareness as the process of a subconscious leading, Better for materialism is rarely better for wholeness. The slavery just move on stopping conscious growth into planned growth, it is time consuming and maintained by idiots in the “rise me to the top” pg 60

by Meander H. Charles

Alone a mountain of typed pages to keep me willing to create more , i have forgotten our random stranger, but there is always someone, i like strangers mostly except in my home town behind my apartment then they are interlopers,, and i am a boxed in zoo animal. that people can see for the oddity of a man writing seems attractive to most. Envious? i don’t know. the sub conscious of curiosity. and perfect is taking a toll. the perfect effect of a number of things, and here i am happiest in the car. i accept the limitations having reach a cure for most. the ymca for the shower, A month pass and not the free ones at 6 in the morning or 8 at night, electric to power the Vaio , is coffee shops, and money for coffee shops is guitar, glass beads fire water if i was of a different type. I am all smiles for i carry no sword, harbor no cares to divide us. my smoke is my own, and the air pushes through in a grace of western trees and bay, a quiet simplicity, a parking lot forgotten accept when its not, and then its crime stories, and gossip talking, .

May poverty time The long summer has yet to raise its head fully, i can not go to streets and drink the will of money and art. I can not tap the emotional roots or turn the narrowed eyed to a widened unity. , for as i get i give.. a cd,, a magazine ,, a hope in the distance some fool on the hill.. but that and thirty dollars gets you a coffee.. , the check long gone comes again on a schedule of pay dates, pays going out for the one coming in.. and i try not to borrow it away,, gone out before it comes in.. but for sure to pay what few bills i have one really, internet, for which i am a paranoid of. for it sparks what i am finally to recall as depression.. I want to remember what depression feels like compared to what intellectual self stimulation is. the difference has become one of definitions, perspectives and a water growth,, one is a feeling.. a feeling has no remorse. Or wait, remorse is a feeling.. i would really like a list what is feeling and what is subconscious left overs from parental implants,, and what is fear,, news,, controlled realities of govern class.

I have to be careful on this computer, the curser is flying in all directions and if i look away i am creating more confusion that i intend.. i have not studied the errors of the past to know enough to repeat them and yet Enertialcall

love to discuss them.. Broadly with attention to foreign names with a reference to english class and some such thing. getting confused with three of plato’s contemporary. the names of a playwright.

I am in the car, again the computer on my lap.. I use to sit in the passengers seat. i use to ,, I forgot when the car was nonoperational. I forgot when i had to learn comfort with a moment , as i will have to when i die. i hated to leave Bella alone for the two years i had her, i didn’t couldn’t forget her,, my life i couldn’t forget,, and now it all seems a dream again wasted and washed of traumas, like bugs at a picnic, we don’t ask of their political allegiance to have someone to blame ,, as they attack anything they can. so like the world has surrendered to its muse to create ,, its harmony of steady work against the obvious tragic recollections of civility.

I am alone , She is , will , always be with me, a comfort i would to know alone, i might not ever see,, but peace is easiest when involved in the cure. so i understand the lesson. and accept my response. to give more, the rain is starting to hit the window , dry rain, so few are the drop,, all are lonely stars against the continuity of the rejoined.

Changing from water to air to crystals to molecules to droplet. to run off to street washing to stream to sunny day. june 5th well its after twelve so 6th.

I get out of practice writing. Out of practise to tell ,to extoll the day against macro of conscious, against the moment of history. Truthfully I have a hard time remembering why i started writing.. Yes it was to have a character. Being out of touch with life i touched myself. I tried where all else was out of my control . and only words useless of themselves, found a definition of surrender i could love, hold and accept. Me alone with the one place no one can control, me, and yet,, if you don’t read i am without voice. so a magazine followed many years of writing. Followed like a leading , for once i was in love with the magazine i grasped more that i could be,, as well as, less than i would become. as in i was publishing in limited copy and inter net, when i wasn’t publishing in other ways , and i wasn’t living the publishing buisness.. the fine shirts and steady shaking of hands to get out a magazine, with ads and bowing to controlled substances, Like other magazines which only reviews who they sell ads to .. or take money from, in one way or another, here an ad for a business coalition and the people in it get advertised underhandedly,, in Balzacs time you got reviewed if you bought subscriptions. I should maybe started that..

But here again the lack of me is validated. and i sell neither subscriptions or ads,, and even as that leaves me to publish what i want. I want people to read.

Which i never thought about, when ever any one would ask who are you directing it at , I would say everyone. For art is to be for everyone,, or its only specialized and unworthy of art. Specialization divides us. Unity as common sense inspires and reaches to understand a totality of time against the limitedness of birth. So i never impressed the questioner. but when i think of it , i was only trying to get out what limited perspective i can experientially feel. If someone changes for the agreement they feel i am happy. But still how to get people to read.. Writers are not publishers. and when they are it is sourly done, and like any bad job. dooms the angles a true buisness man publisher reaches for. which is survival. .. I have no survival and have given myself over to the abscesses of poverty. a governmental check and a federally funded apartment. Among the unemployed, i am lucky, i have a mental condition which keeps me without employment besides what changes i create of self. Through therapy through understanding of feelings,, and the subconscious self repression i afore couldn’t see. So i am left without employments except the art i create,, my art i do, no matter what way i live,, namely i understand the street person better than the clean feeln the repressions of the over structure, the prejudice against the stranger,, then against the east coaster, then against the homeless then against the artist. I have come to the small town and i am hated, I know. Don’t let anyone fool you you are rarely, solely, to blame for anything. but a why for the magazine still evades me, yes i want to get out my words to prove i can write. But the writing is rarely read and the heart takes its fall from there. it is a deep fall where no one can raise you, and you can only keep being and knowing something was said thinking they can see you. but dont read you either. and only hold on to the same opinions of objectiveness they scream about in mass. I am a piece of meat to them, well groomed but meat all the same. As they leave for higher systems of subversions. Love is subversive to focus. but it is hard to remember my writing sessions when they are curtailed by glasses,, for my sight is going, by sitting because my back is having like wise troubles of age and wants only to be upright the pounding on keys keeping one reliant on sitting for long hours , i have given much of it up.. and have a fight with all i do do. i guess i should tell the whole of my life with every grace. but rarely can. it is an old story now. and the years of abuse are so far behind me, but yet like i said i am living in poverty so i have no other responsibility but self evident truth. like the subconsciousness i have lived through for it is subconsciounsness which has created me to flow as i have,, my watery being so astrologically invented. The water sign, the Heuristic Enertialcall

pg 61

learning the experientially being. I drink coffe and know i will be awake longer than i think is good for me, and i know i am on the edge of a writers self doubt. i breath in marijuana to cover my lack of inspiration. and begin again. it is another day twelve thirtieth six in the morning I type in a parking lot behind my apartment, the world is cool and the heat of the day kept me indoors, Only at night can i rise enough to see the key board and write, and only outside can i smoke. The last i list as one of the slow decimations of society, no smoking is like saying “do not live around me” but it is accepted like ones housing should be depending on his addictions. but alcoholics live everywhere,, and pill heads,, no one cares as long as they don’t smoke. But i also include, in same erosion of society, the computer, which looses whole paragraphs and well typed files every now and again, such that even the slightest of intelligences learns to back up the back ups.

A thin usb drive hangs off my shoes string necklace right next to the fountain pen which i can not find the ink for. it comes in cartriges i can not find and the last office supply store in town has closed. ink and paper equal permanence,, romantically approached. but the first habit of good writing is eliminate redundancy and ill logic,, paper and pen gets wet.. and gone. like the computer would, but you can save a hard drive better than a wet sheet. . and i have lost each with the same bout of regularity.

Practise becomes the matter more, for there is habit and with habit comes an unconscious attention with fewer questions about each line for the whole is a life. the whole is a presence on the earth and less than a moment in one man.. but practise is everything, and daunting can be what we cant control yet marvel at what comes without thought. like filing off the fingers reveals a side unseen as the day goes , as the speed is ,, as ideas travel, exposing the common more than the unique, the special forgets the normal. I would rather a subconscious communication between myself and ideas,, like a jell placed on a stage light, so is typing and the action of writing in all forms just a filter through of thought, We create the portal with practise, it can be used for anything ,, but you must have the portal.. You can not question it while living it,, for your questions restrain the natural you. when all you want is an attention to personal nature to reveal the nature of all.

As a poverty lifestyler , i can say that, i guess, for i am allowed to consider the process of writing for i refuse to get paid for writing and don’t worry on what i say but how i say it, as in ,, i worry over my fingers typing , over the paper after it has been wetted, over the ink i use and the sitting posture,, i am a method writer,, not a embodiment person sometimes, for get me in the comfort zone and i will create like there is my plate and filling times is my life. as a poverty lifestyler,, i can say that.. i guess.. for i am allowed to think alone in a room with little to trouble me but the troubles that leave me here.. The inter bred ignorance of my class and self contained structure, this particle in space,, for which age interbreeds with environment,, with little understanding of environmental creational -isms, as in you are the sights you live. and there in them are the parents and subconsciousness,, there is the government and social exchange surrounding growth as objective.. there are a trilllion things and yet so few are spoken private and alone , sitting talking to trees. as a life styler,, i can move with that, i can love a leaf for the afternoon,, and my schedule isn’t changed for it. one ten am and yet here we are. watching the tragic main news happen without main news.. the price of a Drunk Driving Event is towed down the street, the popa wheely capture beast rolls behind its now owner four wheels and a ton of money , paper work trails and self declared peaceful governance. and i look.. butter flys take me and i can not remember even what i was talking about.. i can feel the drunken driver , in a enclosed space with swirling eyes and a dry mouth, the lights still going such that the world is a blurr and all the imaged nature of the trapped and jailed arise from seculsions of police pg 62

dramas can never equal the lights.. the pulsations of red to blue to red to blue,, the aleart, all over you.. you . sitting with a covered head for crowds or a think head for moment yopu wil never remember you unconscious mind alleviated for a moment to letting someone posses and capture you .. law in all its glory is like the father you never had, like someone who is allowed to man handle you but never kill you.. not without you trying to kill them.. or some such things as the lines blur over what is an attack,, but physical suppression has no such blurry line,, or does it you thnk on the third day of being locked up..Could i listen to the monks who have told of the proof of life nothings leads to ,, nothing no movement lets no new information in to cloud what the body already knows but rarely gets to live.. You are fed. You have water,, and you dream and you breath,, practise is everything for a natural occurrence. Unconscious self movement equals continuity in all things. but far from gurus are we sitting knees against front wall of steel the bounding wall separating from driver,, from blue suited, green suited, bobby suited, persona. who relaxes when they get in , a job done.. just driving now,, nothing can go wrong. he says calm down if you are upset, he askes how you got there,, he leads for information if he can , but all so the general health of the world doesn’t ketch up to you.. maybe you can bne saved yet and the personas job a joy for a moment, never minding the majority of policing that is only protecting the rich. or feeding the politician.. or enforcing the governments need to control what is civil and what is allowed under the “law”. Most of law is inflicted against its own victims, the now murder was a sexual abuses victim, for which law turned a blind eye to , the criminal is rarely without the crimes against them , they are rarely not first victims, the children of solidgers, and that is leaving out the victims of un-nutritional food and tainted water supplies, to psychological abuse of region this one religious, this one a coal mining town, this one a corrupt police state, all the private and hideousness un-legalized explorations of crime verses criminal conduct. Some system we have created which confuses its captives for convictions and truth is a paid argument.

Butterflys,

Enertialcall

Enertialcall

pg 63

pg 64

Enertialcall