rALbERRt redo

(^ farther into and thru the rarebit warren: circa 1998 from a long lost loved one who I miss VERY much =====vvv=== RAlbert nov.19,1997 As Ralbert read through the kundalini list, answers to his long time ponerances took over. Ready he became as women described spontaneous orgasm and men described altered states of electric vibrations. It was all there before his eyes. The voices from the back doors of his mind popped forward. The bunnies with their long teeth smiled large from behind his eyes, the whiteness mades his iris crouch to the deep corners. His eyebrows grew higher. He reached to the keyboard to thrive off of what was out there, somewhere, someone understood his condition, his plight. What had possessed him all these years. The batteries which died in his pager from his own north-south pole misalignment within his magnetic sphere of mind and body. He began by introducing himself in the cut and chop form of speaking. The listeners became entranced and inspired by his "words of wisdom". The rage went on like this for weeks. Ralbert took time off to go out and weave the vines in the yard to put out some of the Kundalini Beast to motion. He walked up and down the driveway chanting in and out with each breath. He felt a cool calmness take his hand and lead him through the trees to a pile of wood chips and roots grown in them. The compost was a living pile of friends, intertwining together. Here he began to kick the leaves to uncover more of the beautiful soggy wood chips. He bent down and carefully untangled the roots from the clumps they had formed. He wove a rope and began weaving it through the twigs that he'd placed in the V of the tree. He carefully wove delicate roots, making a basket , and tied leaves to it . It looped round in the breeze. Ralbert sat on the thick branch he had dragged out of the bushes, and rolled a cigarette. He packed the ends carefully in a ritualistic manner. He sat back lit the cigarette and stared at the sculpture he had created, he saw a word forming. "shelter" Letter by letter it came, then a voice echoed. Back and forth in his mind loudly, nothing else, not even the traffic just twenty feet away, was audible. He stood up and the light changed. Another word came out. "for" This word was more gentle, less abrasive on the inside of his soft skull. He began to walk around the little vine, twig, leaf dictionary. He convinced himself he could find the next word. He stood up high in his will power and willed the next word, but it did not come. It would not come. He pretended to see things. shelter for the poor? shelter for all sake? shelter for days ends? Ralbert began to smile......... Shelter for the dark knight's first wind. shelter for neither here nor there. shelter for the heck of it. shelter for the fucking wretched limbo leechers and teased brief come byers. shelter for the sake of shelter. art for the sake of art., Fucking hell, cripes! dripps! not another fucking cliche! Ralbert felt a low self- imagination creeping in. He despised cliches. They made his genius mind ache for sympathy of something worth while. This magical place began to feel like earth once more, as the trees whispering cliches from the dry crunchy leaves. The cars on the road soon covered up the sound of the trees he could hear the whole freeway just blocks away scattering the black tires, warn low, thumping in synchronistic pace. He heard the radios in the cars tuned to different stations all playing commercials. Some changed from the consumer commercials to talk radio, which Ralbert considered commercial for the morals of the masses. Ralbert envisioned a woman arriving home getting out of the car walking through the door to her lovely distinguished home and looking in at her family in disgust. For she had whittled away at her perversions of a discontented life and became blind staring at the cinema of her mind's eye. Her briefcase dropped to the floor. The head of the chap lipped, son smiled at her. "Hi mom." Like the thump of a flat tired tromping over the landscape of her tyriadio brain. His cold sore grew bigger as she saw her son licking the inside lips of some teen sluts pubis. Then switching to one of his teachers. Back and forth back and forth. The two women kissed and one ran her hand over his curly greasy bangs. She heard a man's voice call in on the radio describing how he thought his wife was having an affair with one of her students. The mother grew warm in her nylons and her upper thighs began to itch. She kicked off her shoes and made her way to the couch crossing her legs and reached out her hand to pet her son on the head, but with the image of the two women fading from her mind she quickly pulled back from touching him and the hand lifted in the cinema of her vision. " hello dear " she said and smiled back at him as he sat in a ball arms wrapped around his shins. She looked over at her husband lying asleep beside her with one hand between his legs the other under his ear and the rest of his arm jetting out into the room. His glasses tucked under the edge of the pillow. She stared at the hand buried in his crotch. She imagined him washing the evidence of sneaking a quickie in the car as he drove the last of his car pool home. Once more she heard the radio talk show: A woman called in and said she was in love with a married man who had the picturesque family. But had just lost his job and was afraid to tell his wife. She was giving him money and they continued to make it seem as though he went to work every day. But instead he stayed at her house working on and internet porn page that would eventually bring in enough money. The woman had wanted him to continue this endeavor but they both lived in fear that the wife would find out because of the holidays coming up, and somehow she might hear it at a social event. The mother glanced at her husbands clothes and though he has been slacking off just a little on keeping his clothes perfect, as he did a few months ago, before his so called promotion. What if his promotion was a cover up and he was working on porn. That is the real reason she heard less and less about the old team at work. She looked at her daughter, all of four years old and smiled. She was relieved that she appeared to be his. She touched her daughter and left the room. ---vvv--- Ralbert finished his cigarette. Pushed the butt into the soil. Went into the house and flipped through the porn on the web. Thinking for a brief moment that may be he should start a porn sight. Lots of money in it. I bet I could come up with some nasties. get rich quick..... Shit another cliche. He logged off the internet for the evening and flopped down on his bed and stared at the pictures of the characters he drew. Carefully laid out to form a metamorphic mural of life. He reached over and turned on the radio. "Hello your on the air."... "Hi my name is Roda and well I want to say first.. that I love your show... I called in months ago.. and well my problems are solved... I left my family...but I have this strange new obsession for teenage boys.." Ralbert looked over at the clock radio and rolled his eyes. "Fucking cliche if you ask me." he said and chuckled to himself. As he began to imagine that the most preposterous things were going to become acceptable cliches. And the cliches of today becoming the sinful things which are looked down upon. Is it a sin to make money quick, or do art for the art sake? may be if you make money quick for art sake. or make money literally like in the mint for the sake of art. Is it an art making money? Usually it is not . making money for art sake. well I guess these days it is. Just depends if you're up on the scene of media, advertisement, propaganda coming out your ears is a form of art. Brainwashing takes talent. Being a single visioned one eye cyclops is a way to make art. Maybe I should be working in the stereo vision porn industry. Like people have to stare at it longer so it will come into 3D and then they can be charged for time. Then he felt sorry instantly as some man is whacking away, trying to go fast and trying to focus on this picture and make it stabilize into 3D....poor sucker... He laughs to himself as he imagines reading the headlines. "forty men have been stuck cross eyed over porn." and this big scandal comes out of men cross eyed while ejaculating getting stuck that way. He heard the toilet flush as his idea turned in on itself and swirled away. And these crossed eyed men with dollar signs in their eyes from the lawsuit against him........cha ching.... Forty men all lined up hands grabbing their cocks hunched over with crossed eyes and bright green dollar signs glowing like the alien kids in the movies. He imagined the next big trend will be lawsuits against the porn sites. Ruined marriages, upset wives, families torn apart by unsatisfied women. Men coming home with lingerie and sex toys. His vison switched from the porn industry to the lingerie and sex toys mail order sites Nope already got that stuff going our there no doubt. He imagined inventing a gel which somehow chemically activates with cum to make it disappear quickly. A two in one lubricant and cum deactivator. Like shampoo and conditioner for the mastribation male. He saw these forty men lined up hunched over. This time holding their shriveled up dicks with red blisters on them. With "lawsuit pending" stamped across their naked bellies. The dollar signs rolled like tears out of their eyes and ran down their bodies till their flesh was speckled with green $. Then their faces turned into one huge cyclops video camera and out of their ears came the talk radio calls coming from all over the place, discussing this major catastrophe in the porn industry. Meanwhile the US was engaged in some major scheme in the mid-east and getting in on the action in south africa. While the nation tuned into the forty deformed twits. It would all be Ralbert's fault for his get rich quick idea. Whole civilizations wiped out and the internet banned. No one could hear about the scandal. Tv and Radio filled with talk shows of couples making up, families getting back together . US population up? Fanatic Christianity, the reborn, a reinstated way of life. Pojama People going out in mobs rounding up drug addicts and converting them. The new law: Either the addicts convert and join the mobs , becoming narcs for the good of the world, or be locked up for life. Sexual preditors rounded up and sent off to fight in some underground war going on in other countries. While the government said they were in a new rehabilitation program. They are let loose all over to do as they pleased. People captured in herds, their dna taken to make clones, then destroyed. These clones raised from birth , trained to take over the US civilization population in fifteen years. and these kids could reproduce without the aids virus or the cancer or alzheimer's gene. ----- Ralbert stared at the ceiling, at the wood paneling and thought of the genetics of trees. He heard the wind howling outside and pictured his sculpture blowing away... The words shelter for came back Shelter for Shelter for. he repeated it to himself , trying to make a mantra. "Shelter for shelter for shelter for shelter for .." but he came up with nothing, except an eerie feeling . The vision of the new world compressed into a singular disturbing image and began to fade. Ralbert closed his eyes and whispered "shelter for" over and over until the words scattered into the sound of the wind. ((^ re edited spellchecked by TE3m circa 2018