poem: The Blindest of Klowns

done in: sharpies. all sharpies.

"It's the blindest of the klowns in the world of living dead babies that sees the clearest... the whole is best viewed and more understood once the i's are REmoved... bleeding 2 any one of the numerous deaths we hang there with the smile most think they see... romanced and clocked by the children here, living dead babies, exiles or monsters or not, cursed with the boundaries of the freedom, not in truth, but lovingly dealt... still comes the red. relentless we are. happy at times when the cycles of distractions and expansion slows, yet knowing the void remains, unsatisfied even beyond the comprehension of the babies and half of the monsters, known, that hunger, all too well by the exiles... there we hang... roaming... balancing in the red. and you may even think you know, but we hang alone... each of us... bleeding out, but never dead... the army of zero's... KLOWNS. for what it's worth... fuck it all. Smile, yeah?!?"

"It's the blindest of the klowns in the world of living dead babies that sees the clearest... the one who wears the purest makeup of self and walks in it, seeing beyond what is face value but to what truly is, nothing more and nothing less, in the world full of spoiled illusions of free minds/egos... the one that maintains the most open an unbiased vision, the most balance is the one who is the most ignorant to distraction. This goes beyond seeing with your heart, because your heart makes you see things from that perspective. Beyond seeing with your eyes (3rd included) because that limits you to seeing from those perspectives. See from complete blindness, which means you have no position, all there is is what you are focused on. You do not exist...

the whole is best viewed and more understood once the i's are REmoved... once you remove your self, you can see things for what they are, nothing more, nothing less. There are two I's that are removed... higher and lower self. Both of those are points from which come judgment. Remove your self and understand completely that which those eyes are focused on...

bleeding 2 any one of the numerous deaths we hang there with the smile most think they see... "bleeding 2 any one of the numerous deaths we hang there..." meaning there are numerous ways you are emptied of self, and since you are an infinite being, this happens multiple times, even within one way of being, all judgments are peeled back and away. This may flip things around, which would leave you hanging there up-side down (as above, so below). "With the smile most think they see..." ,meaning that even when one gains certain levels of enlightenment, because you are still in physical form, people think they understand your position because you're both still on the ground. Because they see you on their level, they think you're vibration is what they think it is, because of what they think, not because they see what really is. There may be no smile at all, as this may be a very lonely place. The "smile" may just be the gritting of teeth as to not explode. Others will think, say, create, and expect what they will of you. Always. Even if you provide them with an answer, they will twist it to fit them...

romanced and clocked by the children here, living dead babies, exiles or monsters or not... beings here love the ideas and ideals of others they create, especially of their own self and you (whatever they focus on and think they understand). It gives them more validation of self, believing that they understand. "Living Dead Babies" is one form of being, namely human. Dig it, you're infinite, so you're always at the baby stage, however you're mind exists in the chains of time, which operates under the laws of existence in and of moments, which means death. It's an illusion, the death, but a reality since it is accepted. But Human is only one way to be here. True, all ways of being here are of infinite beings choosing to exist in moments. So there are those from other realms, dimensions, walks of life here, things that end up here however they do, in whatever light they will be viewed in, casting whatever shadows of self will be thrown off, and whatever truths about them seen from whatever angle...

cursed with the boundaries of the freedom, not in truth, but lovingly dealt... all being here is here operating under the rules of being here. It is a freedom to experience individuality, oneness through one individual point of connection to another individual point at a time, as opposed to the individuality of oneness, all things at once. It is not in truth, but honestly done. The truth of a thing is seen from every perspective at once. You only see your honest view of it from your perspective, with an interpretation of what who or whatever else offers you. These are honest. They are what is seen from that perspective. If it is malicious, it's honest, and lovingly dealt. Like how racists raise their children to be racist, because they honestly believe their racist point of view. It's not truth, but it is honest...

still comes the red... even understanding all of this, comes the fire. Understanding comes. Passion comes. Twisting of all of this and reflecting it, measuring it to define the self comes. The struggle and frustration of self comes...

relentless we are. happy at times when the cycles of distractions and expansion slows... you cannot help the fire in you, of you. It is a peace, the honesty and understandings that come on whatever level... shades of the whole true self. They may scratch the itch and calm things, but there is always another thing to learn, more to understand, more ways to grow...

yet knowing the void remains, unsatisfied even beyond the comprehension of the babies and half of the monsters... understanding that this will always be is reacted to differently depending on the level of being you are. Lower level beings have their understanding of the infinite and divine and react differently to it than higher level beings would. Their relationship is different...

known, that hunger, all too well by the exiles... the void is even deeper understood by spirits, those expressed, expelled, vibrations that fall to levels not of their own choice but of their own design (because of how they were made to do)...

there we hang... roaming... balancing in the red... all are a part of this dancing energy of understanding self. This one word and vibration, understanding pulsing back and forth between above and below, which neither exist because all is one, and so the one divides itself into this game...

and you may even think you know, but we hang alone... and one may thing they understand another, but to each their own. Each is on their own path with their own understandings, and the energies attached to that...

each of us... bleeding out, but never dead... each way of being unraveled and burned away, yet the energy moving on...

the army of zero's... minds, the infinite ways of being that add up to one.

KLOWNS... personas, faces made up

for what it's worth... fuck it all... no worries. everything is something to do. everything is perception, even that. so, again... in this whole illusion... no worries...

Smile, yeah?!?"...

"the blindest of klowns" - the zephaniah chesterfield project

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