Pain thresholds are different for each individual. Going on day six of this delusional drilling into ones determination and measurement of ones one will or understanding of ones own limits of anguish. It does bring happy thoughts of apples and running rabbits every so often. Although that too seems to be marred by an occasional round of golf being played through the happy seen by an influx of German tourists promoting Japanese beer substitute. Some things should be purposefully dampened by an arbitrary swig of something ‘near’ like. Ok strike that, last prose, as most likely it will incite many near-thoughts.

One does tend at this point to appreciate many things that prolonged distress can promote from within the fathoms of the consciousness. Not that I have anything prolific to state at this point more so than any point of my meanderings, but its still allows for additional input streams in to the collective. If a multitude of monkeys can manage to manifest the even most meager montage of memoirs, then unbeknown to them maybe its also can be calculated to produce an infinite collections of meanderings bound by a state of all encompassing unrest.

Poems and songs are the ultimate in the artistic expression of composition. And I am no poet, not no composer ( not that it had to be stated, as it is painstakingly obvious in the lack of any methodology or understanding of basic English, or ability to construct a non-run on sentence, or near-sentence ). But I take some joy ( obviously ) in creating a semblance of words that may in its entirety, look roughly like a formalic narrative, yet be nothing more than random words or thoughts. I do no proclaim to care or sympathize with those who are so viamently structured in their ways or enforcement of the universe as it is oppressed to be. I do not mean any disrespect nor malice towards those of that type or other creative influences in any manner. I do just enjoy the wonderful entrance into ‘The Random’ or ability to freely construct nothingness, and ask to be left to my vices without agitation.

To many a sorted blue fin of whale or nest of a swallow searching for the last glint of sunshine as it is snuffed from the pool of unstars and near-light, it is assured that instigation and observation of nothingness always allows for something to happen.

For that in the end is what it is all about. The use of the multicolored palet of language to paint the abstract but incessant blotch upon a canvas. Like steam on a bowl of rice having definition but meaning only to those who choose to gaze until they see something….

Once awoken to the smell of rosebuds…… no… burning garlic okra… maybe a pungent cream pudding gone wrong… ok, whatever the smell, it was a pungent aroma that only served to dance upon ones senses as if to awaken one to the slapping fish dance performed one ones face.

Often such gibberish is gleaned upon those whom wouldn’t understand the thought of a massive influx of residual context. But then again, why does that astound even the smallest of persons? They are generally small for a reason, and that is not always understood by the many who misunderstand the ways in which height plays a part in everyday existence. In the vast reaches and pockets of society, size is not understood by the very existence of the mammals who inhabit the various habitats and ecosystems surrounding the ancestral sub-regions.

The razorbacked monkey army of the north often patrols those sub-regions, and determines their stature by what fruits and berries they may gather there. For many of the foodstuffs and culinary extractions generally end up as the main course in the realm of nether consciousness. It is in these very regions that it is determined that various concentrations of salves and ointments are produced that induce various sleeping patterns. And it is these sleeping patterns that are translated into much of what we understand today to be not more useful than that which we started with. Which for recollection and the sake of repetition is nothing more than an awful smell, preceded by the mistaken smell of rosebuds…… once awoken….