do hornets like donuts?

what the frick, what the frack, what the knackity-knack it's a clicky clack world, clicky clack clicky clack and there's no skipping forward and there's no going back, there is just moving on on life's one way track so even though nobody beats the beatles (as if cuteness was not a crime) a friend asked me once upon a time, do hornets like donuts and i said what? and what's that gathering my head sniffing about like a hound? do hornets like donuts? that's what she said, whatever could have been going through her head, do hornets like donuts? well, let's hope they do at least more than me (koo koo ka chooo) do hornets like donuts, do hornets like donuts? do hornets like, donuts? (dough nuts horn nets horn nuts doh doh dee doh doh) so i heard once again do hornets like donuts? and i thought that is so Seuss, a thought in a noose, daring to hang around, but this is not Seuss with meter too loose, daring to mock a sound, so what is this then a poem of zen? about what it's not to be found yeah well, if hornets like donuts then wasps might resign to dine with an ant on a mound and somebody else asked does it astound? as if the animaniacs themselves were not profound and not just...

bullsugar! :)

somewhere out there

there is bullsugar going on and bullsugar entries and all sorts of bullsugar has been happening and occurring and going on all over here and there and the bullsugar just has not been recorded here so it appears that there was no bullsugasr going on but believe you me bullsugar has been going on indeed it has so no worries about the bullsugar in this lifetime, or blog, even, cuz there's been plenty of bullsugar, oodles, even, bullsugar galore going on in the world and even if it is not recorded here, it is...

bullsugar! :)

oh, the cleverness

or whatever as even haphazard or seemingly disjointed (confusing?... irrational?... unappealing?... offensive?... oh gosh golly gee i sure do hope not, not any of them, really) at times, time, time, time still tells us a story, as harry related just a bit more than thirty years ago (time?), but for what it's worth, i've taken to telling my own story (with some others inserted now and then, names changed to protect them from humiliation and also to their sanity, i suppose), as you may have noticed if you have been paying attention (oh, the cleverness of nonchalance, aye?) and that is part of the point of the written gardens which, as the link just linked demonstrates, is now called something else, sort of (other parts of the point relate more to maintaining my own sanity, which all may merge into bullsugar in the end (and i don't mean this particular blog of the same name), though success seldom shines nearly as brightly as the hope of intended plans, the concept may not been completely off the mark...

parhaps narf? :)

The Afterblog: the party of living: so much more

The Afterblog: the party of living: so much more is a dichotomy of connective blog tissue that accidentally happened, like a kind of blog mutation, as is this entry, for at this moment of writing i have no idea where it is going... the bottom line we can draw from this is that life is unpredictable and whether random or destiny, whether carefully planned or chaos, whether creative magic or an empty page, whether profound essence or meaningless drivel, whether sunshine and lollipops or stormy weather, whether a concise expression with tangible value or a seemingly endless series of comparative metaphors, similes, and what not that leads down a long and winding road to nowhere, man, whether a wonder beyond any imagination or a slippery slope of infinite distraction that appears to be spinning out of control, whether something or nothing, whether art or bullsugar, it is a party with you or without you, and as long as i remember that and remember that i enjoy every moment alone or with others, i can and do and i suggest you should do the same... that is all (for now :)

thinking choices

so many humans are addicted to the rush of fear, anger, paranoia, depression, or some other thinking error that leads to hormonal surges, internal drugs, chemical addictions without even consuming a drug... some thinking errors become "illnesses" and others become accepted delusions (cuz if enough people believe a delusion, it become common-knowledge and truth for the moment {like the flat earth once was} and oh god, yeah, so many, though fewer, are addicted to external drugs, the legal ones and the illegal ones... sadly, the majority addicted to the thinking error emo-drugs and delusions do so much more damage to life than anyone else, not to mention condemning the minority who doesn't buy into the thinking errors...

and i sometimes wonder if i do any good with sarcastic mocking, laughing, and words like those above?... whatever the answer, it is better than sighing or the thinking errors... i choose the drug laughter brings... and occasionally, chocolate :)

relativeness

as opposed to relativity, i suppose, though that may be moot (or relative to perspective) as the pondering producing this postulation forms the words in the form of a question (thank you alex) of profoundity (or profundity or profoundness, for that matter) as if to query if everything was profound, would anything be profound and if everything was creative brilliance, would anything be creative brilliance and so ultimately in considering the relative meaningfulness of the individual blog entries right here and now i come to the question, if everything was equally meaningful, would anything have meaning?...

bullsugar? :)

hope i am

not just bullsugar and more importantly (if anything is), hope i am listening... the first thought as i pop back in here tonight is anybody listening and then before the ink dries on the question mark that isnt there, the more important thought is the title of this blog as i hope am, as i am respectfully, as honest as possible in my writings and sharing without giving out too much of other people's privacy (i hope and if you know me offline and i give out too much of your privacy or if anyone reading feels like i share too much personal stuff, please tell me cuz it is my intention to share me and the life i live and offend or intrude on no one more than they allow but on the other hand i don't want to encourage the foolish paranoia that most people carry around like a shroud nor do i want to feed the monster and wall that over-worrying about what other people think becomes and then hope i do listen and take it seriously when it is serious cuz that's important too and i wish i could read minds sometimes, especially on this subject or the other subject in this rambling if you follow along or any of it for that matter and there is a deep part of me that wishes somebody does and cuz the bottom line is i sometimes tell myself important stuff in my babblings and i hope i am listening cuz if i don't listen to the important stuff i could crash and burn and i have had enough crashing and burning in this life and it sure would be sweet to have someone looking out for me (hint hint :)

what?... another paragraph here?... with ellipsis pauses no less?... and question marks?... why this is possibly quite odd for this place and so i wonder if this belongs here but then, it must cuz it is here after all and what i mean (or was getting around to) is (or was, daring redundancy for emphasis) that i know i give too much for my own good, but somebody else must love the giving as much as i do and together we could help each other give just enough to feel the bliss and not give too much cuz giving is kinda like flying close to the sun with flammable wings, or something like that cuz somebody must understand what i mean from personal experience, and i just wish you would find this writing already and speak up and until you do, i am out on the edge on my own loving almost every precarious moment of...

bullsugar! :)

the writer says: be

perhaps... all this (or is it that, and then some) is writing the record of the life i kinda sorta seem to think of or at least consider mine from time to time... sometimes appearing (or is that feeling) broken (or is that disconnected... lost... forgotten... abandoned... ignored... unwanted... unknown... whatever?) and sometimes recording remembering (it is a long long way from may to december, or something like that) and that is what i got back to doing, the writing the record, a bit tonight (even if the smile seems to be missing a few teeth at the moment)... the water flows, the wind blows, the fire burns, the earth turns, and love is the fifth essential element to life (to life, l'chiam, aye?)...

bless yourself today, even if you didn't sneeze :)

breadcrumbs

all the little breadcrumbs that mark the long and winding road that can lead to your door, my door, any door (that's what breadcrumbs are for) after all, from the love we saved to the love we gave to the miracles on 34th street or promises in the dark, the musical lyrical references are but the sparkly shiny breadcrumbs, the colorful m&ms, even left along the path among so many other less obvious and more obscure pieces of fractal personality identity secrets nobody knows except the one who follows them all to wherever they may lead (and only there and then might we truly touch the magic moment so oft dreamt of, dreamed too, if life did not get in the way)... the laughing cloud mocks the sun's tear knowing the shadow is not forever and the sun will see the earth again... and the child giggles at the potential of the words... dream on...

bullsugar! :)

was there ever a doubt?

silly child, of course not (what did you think the answer would be?... and why if you dare, huh huh huh? smiley face giggle) cuz the facts of life at least as they have been laid out for me in this particular life experience are beyond ironic (even when i am a moody emo child silly one) the joyous laughter tickles me inside (even when we are all wondering what what is what, or which, for that matter... what? what? what? what?) the game comes around sooner or later or so the philosophy goes (comes around, goes around, you know, that what) so tonight it did and there is no stopping the party for the bullsugar (or anything, cha cha cha (no really, seriously even, did you have any doubt?)... oh come on, over even, here's a hug)...

wish you were here :)

where wandered i part seven hundred and eighty nine

with many hundreds of missing pieces uploaded not along the way and this, merely the bullsugar version of the conceptual browsing (or haunting, even) the momentary and then some nonesuch sundries et cetera with as much vim and vigor as as is mustard (or ketchuped) up at any given hour of the wee time, we unanimously present with all this fawning fanfare and irreverence the latest rendition of the choir of cybernetic angels singing ccourtesy with an independently alternative beat, this one...

fugacious love without trust
fugacious photos
vernon god little
radio 3 cbc
digital detox
fugacious lost portfolios
fugacious archives
the last fugacious (for now)

ephemeral

that word, i do not think it means what you think it means (ah, the wonder of quotations begged borrowed or stealed (modified, even) and is has been so very long to share to care to be well aware to love and be lost amidst the magic of romance and trust and the illusion of all that and unconditional love and how wildly fugacious of us (or someone) to have thought the concept in another future past space and time and head space were to for art thou you too and with muchness musicology and candor as if the moment had no end until it did, for the moment at least...

could you be any less cohesive?

what in the world (and happy birthday to an old friend i miss even as an ethereal bit of fluffy smoke in the older memory cells of the brain) could be going through the synapses with such a tittle we may never know, but certainly there is something profoundly curious in the way words flow through this place and if i didn't know better i would think they were painted by numbers laid out by some higher power as just to amuse those who are agnostically inclined and still, be that as it may or may not be, the folly meets the purpose somewhere between the lines for anyone with any real caring to be aware and ask, even, cuz in the end you are made if you gave all your love...

and bullsugar!

narcissism

first, you may notice the warning that random links may appear randomly slipped into this entry in random moments with or without logical reason or rhyme cuz that is the way it hangs around here tonight as i ponder the plethora of posts poured into the (e)thereal in minutes that appear to be hours or days, even, or longer, even more, and the rampant self-indulgence is not as mindless as it may appear to the mindless who do not understand the conceptualizations and rationalizations i present in me pontifications presented presently and for posterity in posts now and then and whenever they appear which only goes to show that it is, as rosanne said, it's always something, even three somethings sometimes (somewhere) and little do you know that i secretly long to share everything with someone who can and will share everything with me (cuz it takes two and it is not all about me, really it's not, no matter how much i joke or tease or appear to be totally self-absorbed, i am seriously not that great a sponge cuz the truth is i doubt anyone could ever absorb all of me, not even half, though i continue wishin and hopin in more than just song cuz there's always hope, so give it to me one more time and just watch me share :)

surely, don't call me bullsugar

yeah you can give in to self-pity
and just end up feeling shitty
and put off everyone you meet
like your throne is the toilet seat
or you can choose a different way to see
right for you might not be right for me
some will calculate it and some will feel it out
but you decide what your life is about
and that is what life really is about

as nebulousas you want to be
it's still mostly bullsugar to me

self-mutilation

wow, how many bummer days and downbeat entries in a row already?... the release of the disappointments and lonelinesses and frustrations and angers and stupidity (which is at the root of just about every negative emotion i am empowering recently) may be a necessary evil (or is that just a convenient rationalization... excuse?), but fact (or maybe the bottom line?) is i just have not had the time to laugh at the stupidity because i am trying to get some sleep and feel like nobody cares and wonder why bother sharing if it is just a one way street and it really is time for a good old-fashioned human-like poor-me wah wah wah pity party but as i don't have time for even a decent seriously thoughtful entry i surely don't have time for that (unless i give up sleep and set myself up for going into work tired and vulnerable but the disfunctional family is not the place to walk in tired and vulnerable so i plod ahead sort of holding my breath treading water waiting for the next wave to crash overhead and enjoying the brief moments of laughter in the midst of the busy-ness and stupidity and all that...

bullsugar!

praise the chips and pass the ketchup

somewhere back in time or maybe just a few moments ago in an entry that will not be found easily as it was predated just cuz i felt like it tonight there was an intention to do something (in the way she moves?) with that link but for the life of me i do not recall what or where or if i did, but then, for all the profound meaning some may find in the words or placement of pauses or entries, for that matter, they may as well be french fries for most of you cuz everything is better with bullsugar...

ketchup!

is?

anybody wanna grow older with me? (cuz we're not gonna grow old, right?)... ah, but alas, the rub is there and that is that there is nobody i know who is around my age who is (wait, one is too many, aye?) plays softball and basketball and runs and stays up all night and still parties like a little kid and most younger folk just don't have the experience to understand and while their little bodies are cute, there is so much more going on in my mind than anybody else i know so long too and maybe that is the thing that gives me the impression that nobody is as i is (am) cuz those who are are actually being like me and i am not (is that so?) so (so?) whatever is the point of the promises we made if all the promises are broken in the end (and is that the way it is or just the way it is for me?) alas, again, the rub is there and is you?

bullsugar! :)

maybe i'm amazed at the way i giggle all the time

maybe i'm amazed at the way you giggle at me cuz there is such a sweet adorableness in the proper (and even more in the improper, sometimes) giggle that any heart not melted instantly by the sound and body language and bounciness of the experience (giving or receiving, even) was probably stoned in another life (and a narc-type-a paranoid control freak god-fearing loser or some such offensive collection of meaningless word in this one) and if you frowned or got even the slightest bit uncomfortable or seriously wondering (or slightly, even) they you too need a good goosingly gotcha giggle yourself so step right up and see the amazing gigglemonster, half human and half giggle, performing feats of absolute adorableness right before your eyes and if you don't, well, sad for you i am, yoda too, even, and with this i gigglefart all the way home...

prophetic

in a fleeting moment of semi-consciousness as i felt the start of my fifty-fifth year in this life, i thought, or perhaps just felt, that i might look back on this year amazed that i did not conceive more consiously or often that it could be the mid-point, the half way mark of this life that would last more than a century of this earthly time and with wonder or irony, seriously consider that i actually would i be here remembering that ephemeral thought from half a lifetime ago… i had not yet found my literary voice amidst the thousands of streams of consciousness that passed through my head and fingers into the written word each day, a circumstance that often lead my readers to label me with the then popular psychological diagnosis ADD (attention deficit disorder), to which i’d suggest with my usual serious irrverence that it could be an easy way to explain away a lack of comprehension of a multi-track stream of consciousness that has since been more clearly understood as synaptic multi-threading or intellectual agapism… yet the hope that something meaningful and worthwhile beyond my mind would emerge from all the time i spent putting words together kept the words flowing into whatever recording medium available along the way through this journey through this life, from crayon and drawing paper to pen and notebooks to keyboard and hard drive to electronic synaptic transfer to telepathic expression, unconcerned with the immediate reception, unwilling to modify the flow or style of the literary expression for the unconditional trust, the blind faith in the thought process compelled me to continue following the consceptualizations wherever they lead and if that was to be no more than selfish ego, then so be it… who then would have foreseen this moment would arrive that i would recall that evanescent emotional flash as prophetic when then, i simply mused casually over the irony of the possibility and the folly of my own delusion of human self-importance…

bullsugar! :)