really?

it may be that i lack an audience because i enjoy irreverence (and word play leading to repetitive redundancy and parenthetic distraction) so much i may appear to present as pretentious obscurantism or perhaps i am just misunderstood but i do wander into wonder a lot more than the average pineapple and we can easily be distracted by almost anything, even squirrels, and there are those profoundly meaningful or meaningless questions (because everything's relative) that come to mind like why are brits afraid to smile (teeth issues in their genes, perhaps) or would Richard Dawkins hate me or is there a point to all this (or all this, even) and of course the occasional love of meaninglessness, like pretentious obscurantism, is in the mind of the beholder relative, remember?) for everything is always a matter of perspective and opinion, after all (except what we know for sure, that is), but don't mind me, i am still looking for empirical evidence of my own existence...

and bullsugar! :)

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! :)

what happened to this one?

it appears there was an entry here and all that is left is a link to this entry in another blog which is oddly interesting in a kind of what the hell is that? i mean what is that thing? kind of steve martin saturday night kind of mocking way if you know what i mean because it could be some deep dark secret was revealed and nobody noticed so it disappeared or it might even be some magical formula that could save humanity from it's obvious self-destruction (spells apply here) but we may never know now because whatever it was, it is gone as if it never was and all that is left is this summary of the reflection on the disappearance and that link mentioned earlier...

sugar?...

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! :)

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...

more than survival

it is not too much to ask for in this life, more than survival, especially when i definite that as sharing... but there's too little sharing in this life to meet my definition for more than survival these days and that, for anyone reading or caring ever, is not bullsugar... fall down go boom sobers one up i suppose...

no worries, the [whatever this is] will return soon enough...

omg

nevermore

for the love of obscurity

is that why i do it, silently slip away to start again in my mind, in the dark, in the new space and time without a word to anyone... is it to see if anyone is paying attention... is it a way to shirk or avoid the responsibility of a final committment to person, place, or thing or personality... who am i, after all... am i simply seeking a privacy that is absent elsewhere... is it a way to try to re-create myself once again... are these questions and if they are, or whatever they are, as words here and now, or then whenever, are they related, connected, ubiquitous, or something else again...

perhaps, as the title poses, it's all for the love of obscurity...