Event Horizon

I love san francisco. Look Look Look.
its the sky and then its a pine saying i live and rest on teh sky.
I say tree. you stand up on your own.
No it is the sky that i live in . my support.
okay, i say, an dthere are chirps from all around. and somehwere a breaze comes adn blows the love of god into my kidneys. the houses are packed and this bamboo filters lightand gives me feeling of good newborn forrests.
A friendly place is not a forbidden pleasure.
It is a gully and windy road, it is a little nook that seems lodged in every cranny on this wonderful peninsula.
San Francisco tells me that if I were an astronaut I would ant to come back home an drethink my line of work, because all i ever want is here in this peerless bay. Hail the bridge of a gold, a gold so lovely that it is RED!.
Forget the moon, I am in the center of the edge of the west.

POC

Piece of cake. I have realized through many trials and heartache, that all the harsh difficulties that nettle the path of a true soul searcher, academic and light bringer can be cast aside with the simple prescription of a clean and pure medicine. A little confidence and a bit of ramen soup is actually all it takes, the latter only for a little spice.

So now that the whole future is easy, it allows for a multitude of possabilities every fork can be charted out in a wonderful branching out in a tree-like array on the blank slate of the sweet white paper. I impregnate it with ink. thin black lines tha scurry and almost scratch ink.
You drive me to the bay, and i will be the one who gets in the water! watch. I have waves breaking at my ankles!

A horrible day, and this the conclusion that brings tears to the bird watching a dreamer, and take s amoment from scavenging to think "gee. oh gee!"

Piece of cake means that it all can be done, even the hard one, the hardest one... enlightenment.
the conquering of time and mind.
Piece of cake.

bad day

A Fucking Lab

I was sitting in the smelly class doing a fucking lab.

Protein shit. No it was worse, Disstillation, which means evaporation to get a piece of shit.

I was sick of it.

That is my abstract.

Here is my Intro.

The lab was like being in a cage while zookeepers poured unknoqn steamy liquids in a pot right next to your goddamn face.

My lab partners did alol the fucking work. Those pieces of shit. They only want to finish the damn thing… assholes… what happened to the learning process. Their brains must be freaking Pentium processors without souls and super fast.

And my GSI can’t speak or know what the hell I’m asking half the time.

Here is my Calculation

Crap + what the hell= Lab sucks

Here is my Conclusion. Distillation is like a wet burp and if its reall gut it stinks your throat.

Ive spent the whole godamnbn two hours trying to figure out hw to do this traffic court bullshit. Fuck this place, there is no happy place for an ugly man.

Good Gracious

Do you know where you are. You see that fabric seat you sit on.
Full of stitches, and in the stiches carbon and polyester.
Carbon and the perception of carbon, and the reason that in your book it is just a red ball is because its essence along with your perception of it in any form is You Guessed it.

This chair is a pitstop my friends on the long road of eternity.

this plastic, this computer this electricity is all of one essence, undefineable but experienced.