The Machine Body - An Oration

Butter, cream, and vanilla bean,
All flavors divine, flavors that renew,
Coconut, banana, and papaya y mango,
Tropical essences taste buds dancing with health so true.

Greek yogurt oh how you I adore,
Just some raisins cinnamon and sugar,
Or kiwi and raspberry and fresh blueberry too, probiotics a friend to the immune system enzymes at work.

Kale and strawberries cut with water and some stevia, freshly reblended again now with ginger. Add two oranges and taste the splendor, healing nutrients now are rendered.

Alongside mechanisms, these probiotics I mention again, like little nanotechnology sub programs, they enable other chemical reactions to take place as facilitators and instructors alike.

Without these existing as in far too many people today, an immune system does not exist or is repressed because it dies bot have in the body the raw materials otherwise to mend the body, ourselves, the collective organism of countless organisms ourselves all under our own management, to a degree.

Then cook some broccoli with beef and carrot and ginger and fresh turmeric. Use a light hoisin sauce at the end to marry all the inhabitants in the dish. Go heavy on the veggies and light in the beef and reconsider what is proper balance.

Utilize energy to heal or to get ill. Utilize energy to heal the body or to further break down and waste extra fuel and store as fat which takes a lot if work or to process and excrete which also takes a lot of work.

Be the animal inside ready to be light and run and eat well with respect and when so able and always thankful to above for the bounty, remember it is about anything but the self. Healing comes from others.

The plant I consume says where I am ill so I listen in peace and concentrate on imperfect harmonies that need attention, this body older now a skeletal cacophony. This meat I consume I ask for it to empower and heal and thank you for the life so taken now offered that I may eat.

The fat is essential but intricate and difficult to both carry and breakdown. The fat is to consume lightly and carry less of unless nature otherwise dictates.

The body as a Machine has a very specific life span, just study telomeres and calculate out a life of any human under perfect conditions and you know the high end of that range.

As a Machine we wear and without renewal become old and without updates maybe even obsolete to run the same old software. Part of our programing is to multiply and evolve leaving not too many old behind. Enough old though to carry a culture and a generation forward to not repeat mistakes.

Our body is not made to process so much food, for we should be sleek and athletic like a deer. In their world fat is an instant death sentence. Why are we not more in touch with how out of balance we have become and why do we consider ourselves so above Sodom and Gomorrah?

Our bodies are resilient but cannot be forgiving forever. If you get into or close to your fifth decade and have had some mishaps well it gets pretty damn tough. Stick around long enough and you have stories that are hard to believe. Try watching o practice moderation and safety in everything you do. Every single action.

The Seed

Your mission is that you are a seed with a mission.

How would you program your own life if you could and what message would you carry and what purpose would you like to have and what traits to hone these skills, your craft?

What would it take to activate some of your programming that would make you even more effective immediately? Perhaps just these very precise and exact words for your thoughts.

How would you look ahead, and what tools would you utilize to maneuver safely forward while cruising over these waves and riffs of spacetime?

What do you envision in your episode of life and what would be a graceful or worthwhile ending? You get one try to make this a great show.

Would you like your program to self terminate or run again with corrections and adjustments?

Would you like to be able to view any moment from the past that you wanted anytime you desired once you leave "The Seed"?

If you could be any seed at all what would you be? A particle? A dog? An amoeba? A virus? A stone? A comet? And how would you travel?

What do you see?

What's On My Mind? - A Short Story of Dynamic Truth

So facebook asks...

What's on my mind?  

I've been doing a lot of deep thinking lately and so really there's a lot on my mind. The funny thing is the place where the people are acting out the most as if earth shattering things are happening are really volunteering at the same place I am where our work is absolutely the least most significant in this world and therefore there are much greater things up on my mind then these things which I find rather entertaining but what else would one expect from a theatre. So there's lots of fuel for future art and that was all I really ever wanted was to share making art with other artists and so we do some in the shadows and some and of the light but all friends to me. Plan to all friends to me forever as all of my artist friends always have been and always will be. Perhaps someone funny recollection I can share is when one artist friend thought it was hysterical and stated that she could not believe how much we all could accomplish, this group of artists, this group of pure narcissist. Let me just tell you I've never heard a room of such evil laughter, and the funniest thing is it's hard to tell who was laughing from their heart and soul and he was just really acting. What is an actor? What is art? I like to write from there for many of these words may be totally made up and fantasy and the beautiful thing is is that they are the catalyst to your imagination so what fantasy did you see from how you know me vs what is really going on in my life today. It's really fun just to imagine. Write something interesting that draws the reader in and take them on an adventure away for just a moment so that you can let them know that you care enough to give them a moments away from stress so that the mind of May 8th and we all make it a little laughter in the end and enjoy the show. What a really beautiful and great show that I could think of no better way than to spend it with you each. Love

The laugh is voice recognition above unedited.

The Lease - A Short Story from the "What This Hill Breeds", CreepaBilly Production Studio Series - Based On Someones Reality

The CreepaBilly Production Studios short story series growing in size every day... Don't forget money for the flowers on the graves.

The theatre was atop Irons Mountain. It was a cold dark wicked place almost always in black and white. I always left me with an eerie feeling. But I always had to go back to that theatre because there was real magic inside and everyone could feel it.

The place use to be a church and we converted it into this beautiful theatre... But... It had this peculiar lingering ... Feeling... Like it was a person or had a soul. The theatre got inside of you. It changed you and it changed people.

The theatre members and volunteers and that oh, so distinguished and snoopy snobby board of directors. Should that be capitalized? This is all about capitalizing baby !!!

Well, this story is about that meds strike through edit that mess not meds...lol... of well to do dreamers artistic good wanna be's.

Hey you,... Let me fukkin' introduce myself... It's "rokkinroll" where I come from to my peeps bitches but itz MOBIUSTRIPZ all CAPS if yo real and n my face but I don't know ya yet! On social media I don't know ya and i m not too tech savvy either... You understand that shit... Right???? Right???

And so a lease in balance weighs,
while former board members play, acts from an improvised play, they started just yesterday.

I quit, fuck you, I quit, documented now on social media, itz live fucking legit. I hope that got your attention, that's why I quit, two artist friends struggle, artistic life begins while another quits. He only quit not to be outdid, my mentor little smarty pants he hit his head. What bickering and bantering back and forth elephant talk and MobiusTripz and space dog and Rocky and James and Bri and salad all distracted not how is my friend he fell and got hurt the other night and no one will answer and think we are in some sort of fight or power struggle. All somewhat flattering and tragic too and this the man I adore who offered me such deeper artistic life... Oh fucking what and fucking why? This art we weave a mess a web then depart we must we leave. Oh yeah but how is he? How is he? Does anyone stop to even think at 69 and what a fall oh how is he?

...and so a lease in balance weighs to be negotiated while the actors play like children. I quit, me too, nanny, nanny, boo boo. More money requested and music not legit, makes more money then anything else in town when well promoted, get use to it. It's not a slap in the face to our beloved theatre or acting as it's own art, it's about changes in culture and cycles once ended that again start. Music is wanted live all over and so are actors again too and so is entertainment and we are on this great cusp where the artist will finally also make a fair and decent living because if demand once again for this craft. Let's together mend this broken marketplace and stop the infighting at once that only exists by social media proliferation and not one bit in reality. Reality... Lets get back to that where sometimes you have to be dramatic to draw attention to quick change and letting a process so evolve... often sacrificing the self. The money shall come, it shall come. Now behave like adults, yes adults... At least for just an hour at the meetings. Bored meetings. I am no longer a Board Member but rather just a bored member at bored meetings... my passion stolen away theatrically, we now all bow. Vote yes for raising those higher so requested entitled fees and with all due respect please do renew the lease.

So how is he? So how is he?
Please oh please, renew the lease,
Wicked games, we weave deceive,
I'm peeved really fucking peeved,
In theatre where is that line between
Fantasy and reality, and how is he? How is he? The fall was real and this can wait?
I would sue the theatre? No concern just hate?

What's the truth and the real concern and who are the actors and what's the mission and where is the theatre and when is intermission? Did you pay attention behind the shadows and your friends his better friends indeed all the lies the weaved, and weaved, and weaved, and weaved.... Echoing fading out....

It's time to get your lawyer on but I already trumped your ass because i got your lawyer before you got him yourself you hanging from a string little bitch !!!

I am an actor and I can weave like a super star to any where I ever need or would want to be, I know you see, the same wicked quick sharp ass photographic shit like me, I controlled you to get to this place now real in destiny. While you plainly look up ahead to see, what fantasy do you think I will have waiting for you, what would you like to upon your departure so leave?

I answered that once so very long ago and when I think someone of my time wants to play Charade's, I will not hesitate to envision many dances across their soon to be resting place, their grave.

Waste not a moment to soon shall be taken.

I Almost Posted This - A Cryptic Short Story of the Day

I thought after Mother passed away and I toughened up that I would be done with crying. 

What so little a young boy knows, who lost his Mother, and now the real pain of manhood gets to reign in. A good gut kicking once a day to get my attention as well as try to keep me down.  

With one friend, we will wield our words as weapons, these surgical strikes, as friends betrayed, yet face to face and alongside one another such perfect frienemies.  Social media and the power of misunderstanding. It makes you wonder who would throw such intentional lobs.

Perhaps both hurting and beat down and with loss in death of each a friend. 

The drama is in the theatre, the drama is in the theatre, and who should pull such strings across these wicked webs we weave? 

I am stepping off of this place for 48,

so I can have my time alone to heal and concentrate,

on the things in life like God and family,

and the so many things so dear to me. 

Be well and love.

...and Mark said

Steve , why not put your hate energy toward the big bad me and invest in time toward making a great sat, mar 26 date with Ian!?"there's still time, Brother'" and the evil faLLEN snow
Lord is up and away. I ASSURE YOU

Really Twisted Angry Projection and the Whore

Out with SpaceDog,
And enjoying my salad cruisin',
Thinking bout' all these projections I live,
Because better choices are for my choosin'.

I am the ether that is in between,
The Everything overlooked am I,
I am the never seen,
I am the perfect pure white clean.

I am the rock you shit on,
Repeatedly,
Repeatedly,
Repeatedly.

I am the chair you sit on,
Foundation sturdy betrayed,
I am your Daddy little girl a spanking,
Enjoyed when I see you rare birthday suit bitch predictable on your birthday to freedom July summer rebellion I command, you cannot resist the actions o so command at my will upon you, just watch over and over again as you,
crave cock and show at my door,
You leave after eight weeks always each year always still just my whore.

Now engaged ! Aghast ! I cannot help but laugh at your lying ways. Glad your gone and he the less wise you a problem now his I'm safe once again from your consistent lunacy, a view of the world purely incorrect and you fighting against the waves and tide of life, the ebb and flow with the net effect that you have never ever once fit in or at least realized you did so and never appreciated it for a second these gifts.

I cut you out and off before,
As you go out and justify being a whore,
To the truth and the light and the, promises that you always liked to share with me.

I am through, and as I have been here before at age 48, I know just what I have to do, erase away from my memory the years together we knew, and cast you out like I cast art upon the Red YouTube.

For you I need an app to keep you a distance safe, to keep you where I know again you can never again like repeatedly in the past you repeatedly so many times countless evil cunt betrayed.

You lied to my soul through my eyes with such sincerity and sublimely sweet words so chosen ahead and rehearsed, all an act your love, ours, these lies you so weaved. You a constant destroyer of things so bent, I cast you now away like refuse, disappear from my life in an instant, to me forever just a bug on a windshield so spent.

Disappointment you are woman manifest.