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Working.

by John Jack

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1.
The pigeons have a nice place to sit on. Dead man, he once was famous. now, he's sat on, by the pigeons. Compiled stress into a tight ball: old and bitter! Bipoles, he twisted logic, at his whim, for contemporaries. Gold pockets filled with bronze. Silver ladies. Smattering paint across the canvas: washed out talent. Manifestations of the world, just document it. Darpa internet among us, an abstract concept. Interlacing, interfacing, neural networks, ask the monkeys. Christian discipline can be righteous, when it's unstructured. Buddhist monastaries can teach us with their silence. ...the-venetuian-maaaan is who I envyyyyyy--a beetteerr consciousness... and the internet! Pigeons have a nice place to sit on. -JJ
2.
The summer light, it wastes away like my youth hitting its peak. This august night, flows into chilling air--calling all the light back to sleep. Don't wonder why, there's no time to think before you leap. On this road, honestly, my own voice brings me down. On our way, honoring, the thoughts that always drown. The heart and hate, heart and hate, meditation only says, "dissociate, dissociate," medication only says, "this magic pill, magic pill, will help you live and help you work." "nh' pay the bills, pay the bills!" Keep your mind one step behind the dirt. The summer light, it wastes away like my youth, hitting its peak. This august night, flows into chilling air, calling all the light back to sleep. Don't wonder why, there's no time to think before you leap. On this road, honestly, my own voice brings me down. On our way, honoring, the thoughts that always drown. The heart and hate, heart and hate, meditation only says. "dissociate, dissociate," medication only says, "this magic pill, magic pill." The heart and hate, heart and hate, meditation only says. "dissociate, dissociate," medication only says, "this magic pill, magic pill." -JpC
3.
Blind man, he's staring at the wall. The bar keep's seen enough tonight. Pink lady stretching tights. Alright. Her son is masking discontent. He's eight years, sitting at the bar. His mother's spitting out commands. The bar keep's filling up the cups! Okay! Nixon news on the table. The telegraph broadcasts clear tonight. I got myself a job today. Something, it's called the EPA. Establish propositions, axioms of contradiction, theory stating rules, abstracted thoughts of Mathematics! Topology and analysts, systems-level thinking, extract the networks! It's not an act of congress. Branching executively, she's not a cosmo girl: no more. Picked up a pyrex beaker, dosing rats with some chemical, their brains chaulk full of data. Dissect tissues tonight. That's great. Pink lady's found her calling. Blind man stairs at them through the wall. The bar keep's seen a lot today. Pink lady stretching tights. Oh man! ... <trumpet> ...
4.
Ahhhhh... UhhhAhhhh... blasting off to Earth, bidding last farewells no more wife for me she is gone for good. Mars was long too far: we both knew it when we kissed our children by and left that world behind. Genetic predisposed constructed human beings technology abounds we were engineered to deal with desolation She'll be welcomed home a hero twice transposed. --longer, I want to get outside stretch my legs --plasma engines carrying cosmic astronauts. ahhh... Uhahh...
5.
I spend my hours inside a computer. Organic brains: interface, electric. My cosmic mind, intercranial expansion, majestic, we're trying, losing perception. Countries and tears, our nation might be dying. Infrastructure, tourists, how complex we're trying? Let's not fear the bankers, baking them fresh cookies. From our own back porches, their not taking my house! I'll cast off one fair vote, a person seems willing. Money goes for science, ...technological triumphs. ...the market it fluctuates... Why not hold those patients? Open up the sources--Free Software Foundation! Our minds on the internet! Why change all our services? I'm fine with social constructs, psychology abroad. Honesty, from our friends, in office, let's protest, please grant me access, public persuasions. ===<>=== I'm a human being, that's all I mean. I've made mistakes, perhaps insane. I keep trying harder, each single day. The summer's gone. Baby on way. Working all day jobs, I pay the rent. Fizzling bills, surveyed accents. Purpose pathing pathways, perturbing protrusions. Pain and misery, partaking the good ones. Telecommunicate, the internets. Anonymity, names are a convenience. Structured rituals, burning transcendence. Pain and misery, which of you are with me? Let's construct this world, delusions of grandeur... I'm a human being, alas mistakes... I keep trying harder, multiplexed each day... ===<>===
6.
None.
7.
I'm a filthy night--I'm shining my sword. I want to go outside, the castle walls. Riding around in the grass and the desert not caring about the men that I have laid down; I've slain them. But instead, the streets are calm. I walk around, and watch the peseants. Those ignorant, foolish people obeying not living. Our circumstances are changing, the king's declared war. (And,) I'll be leaving soon. Open up, the wooded door, stepping back inside my humble abode, I walk up to my amoire, to suit up my armor. My sheath and the sword and the saddle will help me in battle with some of my old friends. (The) Captain says, "we're riding 'till dawn. We're riding 'till dawn." Line up! Who's ready? Thundering steps in the distance. My stomach is growling and churning, subsisting on jerkey and fear. Glancing the looks of the soldiers most near me, I'm seeing fresh faces. The army is breeding, some boys are quite nervous. --warn faces are seasoned-- I want to bring the king up in his castle, a shiny new vassle state. Hey, man, it's the medieval times, man. Hey, man, it's the medieval times, man.
8.
-JJ.
9.
I have a library card in my pocket for a book teaching how to lie. Machiavelli and I will bridge the gap fighting consciousness sleep is for the weak. I am a bag, many chemicals: biology, molecules are us. Read all my notes, I stand in line. Many gods before taught us love and war. Quantum mechanics, confounds my mind, statistical waves escape me. Are all my thoughts the result of probability? Am I a cog? Does it matter? Shall I live a life? Filled with love and bliss? It is my choice; fighting consciousness, sleep is for the dream. ==<. and trumpet solo .>== I am not awake. (And,) I am not a zombie. Am I a zombie? Personify. I'm dreaming: trends are altruits! I give up my mind when it is cynical. Doubt is cast aside. ==< ... life solo ... >== I have a library card in my jacket for a thought: Sagan, Vonnegut. I'm not a cog--embracing zen and om. I'm not alone all thoughts transposed. Some are logging on, others tuning in, turn it off, Nostaglia! It's why we pay top price. American, citizens. -JJ. I give up my doubts, when they are cynical. Doubt is cast aside.

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All music written and recorded by John Jack.

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released September 10, 2011

John Jack

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John Jack Durham, North Carolina

I study math, computer science, biochemistry, and sometimes, musics.

Music written and recorded by John Jack.

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