you are constantly busy. doing some thing. and you don't have a chance to catch your breath, you don't have a chance to think, you dont have a chance to consider Things. this is dangerous. this is the time to pause. i am working, interacting, socializing, interacting, moving, and then it hits me: "i need a break." you are on this track, they call it the autopilot, and after a certain point in time, It hits you, and you are partially taken off the autopilot, the mental track is dismantled, and this my friend is the crucial moment, when you can succumb, and allow it to reassemble, or, command the physical to follow. continual abuse of this autopilot over many years can transform the zestful human into a machine in the worst case, or, a form that may or may not be what the person would have liked it to turn out to be. intentions. (breath) do i want to go there? do i want to be with them? do i want to work this? do i want to walk here? do i enjoy this? just because they They they doesn't mean.. clear my head. take out a piece of paper, preferably without lines. constraining. write down the things i want to accomplish. then try to let them take turns steering with the autopilot. the autopilot. the bastard. until that sheet becomes a replacement for the actual accomplishments, autopilots reign yet again partly because of the resultant complacency created by the list the List, not the Real Thing just an account of What Needs to Be Done! an Account! Account! stop this mediocrity geoffrey Lauren Zady soren tommy! no, you, the one typing. yeah you. now realize that list is slightly archaic now, when did you compose it a month ago? i bet it's affixed to your computer monitor. i bet you are looking at it right now. how many accomplishments are crossed off? the break is necessary again. it is 10:34 saturday night 13 day of ninth month of year 2008 now is The Time to expose your autopilot. now is the time to reveal the Fanged Fiend. that sneaky devil yearns for your failure in the guise of success. in many ways it is success, yet in many ways unnoticed by the rest it is a pathetic failure. purely. that sneaky devil is the guise. what a pretty dress. clear your head. now. consider Things. what are you doing? in every aspect of that phrase. life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness property consciousness awakening death living life Life life. fuck, beautiful beauty, caress all you can the fruits of everything await you. i love your smell its presence remains on my shirt and i smelled it once before i put it in with the rest of the dirty laundry knowing the implications of my situation in that moment past present future accounted for. an ethereal notion holds every possibility together and in an instant it can all be gone. consider things wisely.
