They will no longer let us live in peace anymore,
will they?
Some of them.
Most of them.
Where the truth no longer sets anyone free,
but,
instead,
the guilty elitist escape (unless it was one of us peasants),
and the devil continues to roam around like a roaring lion,
and the demons grin and feast and dance,
meanwhile, the sacrifices forgotten -
all for what?
What is the realistic life worth
of the guilty most people fight to protect?
What are we actually trying to save,
in a world where blind, not even mediocre, cosplay avatars
hold up signs for everyone to see,
signs they did not write themselves -
except for the misspelled cardboard ones - yes,
them yelling and blowing whistles and crying out like animals until they finally tire out,
leave for the night,
and go back to their parents' basements to warm up their beef flavored Ramen noodles
and open up a two month old bag of sour cream Ruffles
and watch Japanese anime
and prepare for another unsuccessful day on their imaginary 'front line'.
..
...
Shouting. That'll show them! As long as they worry about doing that more than supporting their own self and paying their own bills, right?
Whistles. Blow away, baby! You'd make a fortune in California's private film industry or behind the nearest 7-11.
Bullhorns. Yes! Louder! Please and thank you! Us tax paying citizens are so glad you are still not being heard and wasting your time while we continue to fund, still, the failed states of fraud and conspiracy.
Masks. For some of us, some of you, a blessing. Thank you for covering that mug! I've never seen so many ninjas in my entire life, and it is truly theater.
Rainbowed clowns and unicorns litter the barricaded lines
of an imaginary war they were indoctrinally drafted into
by whatever false, evil side they align with.
...
This is not a movement.
It is certainly not progress.
This is not a cause.
And it is most certainly not normal.
..
I'll tell you what it is - a cheap movie set.
Not even a B-side.
A rental.
...
Divide and Conquer,
and it seems like they are more than halfway there...
...
But, the real ones, we know the true answers.
Some of us that still have common sense (I think).
...
Everyday is Halloween here, now, on Earth.
..
Plenty of tricks but no treats,
and cheap tricks at that.
Buy one, get a thousand free.
A trick that is not even worth paying for.
A trick that is not even worth being free.
A trick that could not trick a tricked trick.
...
Maybe we need to go out and pass out free Snicker bars to all of the discontents.
.
Maybe everybody is just hungry.
..
...
And as we all know -
you are not yourself when you are hungry.
Satisfied?
I rub my eyes and wake up for the third time today.
I am Vernon's Never Ending Daydream
There is no left side or right side,
and if you are still focused on one ideal or the other
then you have no idea of what is truly going on.
..
We live in a redacted world where everyone
knows what's under the black marker except us.
Then, when we are the ones who want to start
blacking things out when our name is involved
or unblacking things that should be public knowledge,
we are held in contempt of everything sacred.
...
But nothing is sacred anymore.
Nothing.
There are no more lines to cross,
except the ones you supersede off the grid,
away from everything that has eyes to watch and ears to listen and locations to track,
machine or not.
...
I'd put my entire body in a Faraday bag,
if I could.
And live in Anartica.
Beyond the 'ice wall'.
Where all secrets, still, remain on ice.
...
Then, we get our three millionth distraction,
all in one day.
And they deliver it to us like a warm meal,
as long as we continue to watch and stuff our mouth hole.
..
Hollywood burns. Hopefully for good.
The music industry burns. Hopefully for good.
The elites burn. Hopefully for good.
The corrupt governments burn. Hopefully for good.
The streets burn. Hopefully for good.
As long as they are still carrying my favorite ice cream at the local grocery store.
Grab me a pint.
Eat it while watching Naked and Afraid.
Then, I can burn.
.
We see the crisis actors on television,
then we chuckle.
Then, later,
when we are naked in front of the bathroom mirror,
rubbing our hands over our bodies,
touching ourselves to make sure we still exist,
we take a deep breath and want to question everything.
...
One more scroll before I shut my eyes for the night, Jesus.
I can pray later.
...
Nothing is worth saving anymore,
to be frank,
or is it?
Am I wrong?
Unhinged?
Invalid?
Disconnected?
Misguided?
Silly?
Not thinking clearly?
Or am I the only one who wishes God would go back on his word,
like we have done to Him more times than He has to us,
and finally start over this failed creation
with a worldwide flood and a brand new, untainted rainbow.
...
We have all failed,
but there is still some hope
before the next big disclosure.
...
I think...
I just wonder -
why are WE the only ones who have to answer for our mistakes
when we are the only ones furthering the cause of what God intended,
us being more detrimental to the functioning of society than the rest of the 'Roman Circus' that surrounds us?
...
Maybe it's time for all of us good guys to break out of the coliseum
and crusade a hunt of our own...
-
To find ourselves.
To execute swift and quick justice.
To bring our own balance.
...
Then, I shake my head
and remember what my Bible says.
..
God put us in the Garden of Eden,
and we could barely maintain everything there,
including ourselves.
The worst thing He could have done was boot us out
and hand over the rest of this beautiful world
to such flawed creations as us.
...
God, I cannot answer for them,
and I will not answer for them,
but I am sorry for what has been done...
..
for everything...
..
especially the things I have done...
..
*Still, after all this time, no response from Him*
..
A breeze creeps out of the invisible unknown
and graces the back of my neck
and my right shoulder -
then,
I remember -
The teacher is always quiet during the test.
I love when all news corporations say,
'this just in'.
*I scoff*
I am Vernon's Lack of Surprise.
The script was already written.
Now, their robots,
their lizard people,
have to read it or they will not get paid
or receive a fresh set of skins at the end of the season.
...
This just in:
There's kerosene in our Skittles.
Roundup in our bread.
Formaldehyde in our kids' juice boxes.
Glass and plastic shards in our kids' chicken nuggets.
The news headlines, scrolling left.
Right.
Up.
Down.
Backwards.
Forwards.
All meant to put you into a subliminal trance
as you sit in your recliner
and eat a couple of egg rolls from the nearest Chinese take out.
Murder.
War.
Death.
Extortion.
Contamination.
Recalls.
Blackmail.
Disease.
Natural disasters.
Fraud.
Adopt a pet.
Drugs.
Explosions.
Car wrecks.
Child abuse.
Stock exchange rates.
Weekly Weather.
*I take a deep breath*
Somebody sees me do this in person
and immediately thinks something is wrong
and I tell them,
'no - this is normal behavior for me now.'
...
This just in...
...
Watch their eyes.
Watch them blink.
Study their body language.
Record everything, video and audio, without permission,
like they do to us.
..
We are their Voyeurs now.
..
And they will slip up before long,
if they have not already.
...
Me and you,
well,
we would still be in jail for the crimes some of them commit,
but, hey,
they get a free pass because they are in an elite inner circle,
so,
just get over it and look away,
amidst all the evidence,
even if the endless list of names likes to destroy innocent children,
eat the meat of people that look better than me or you,
drink sacrificial blood to stay young,
and auction off other people's buttholes if nobody wants their own.
...
Ego.
Pride.
Power.
Abuse.
Evil.
Lust.
Sin.
Death.
That is the fruits of their spirit.
...
And if the truth would shatter our entire reality and collapse everything we now know around us,
then,
HELLO,
maybe that is what we need.
...
If you go and take a deuce in the bathroom,
do you flush it away or keep piling it on,
because,
before long,
so much accumulates that you cannot flush it out all at once
and you have to scoop it out,
little by little,
before you are even able to make some progress?
...
We are there...
..
.
And we are not voting ourselves out of this one.
.
..
Not now...
...
and,
I think, constantly -
all we need is one big asteroid, Jesus.
just one...
the size of Iowa...
then I'll leave you alone.
...
and while all of them scurry about like rodents and hide from it underground,
as long as I'm on the surface when it hits,
things will be fine.
..
*I scoff*
..
I mean,
what is the point of chasing anything
when they encourage us to go after our dreams
then set the rules of opposition with a list of stipulations
surrounded by three rolls of red tape and litigation?
What kind of life is that?
Not a metaphysical or spiritual one,
I can tell you.
Plus, your dreams have already come true if you have love, good health, shelter, and food.
And, nowadays, love is optional.
...
Settle in and enjoy the life of a tax paying battery.
...
But then again, I could be wrong.
Every morning,
our alarm clocks should say,
'Wake up, Slave, and repeat yesterday.
Somebody, out there, other than you,
needs your taxed paycheck.'
...
I am Vernon's Spiraled Spiraling Spiral.
When I grew up,
we would gather around the screens in our rooms,
watching the heinous people, now exposed, laugh,
party,
win awards,
lecture us on how we should feel or think,
gaslighting us on the standard for what we are suppose to be,
all for what -
for them to farm humans for dinner and dessert,
the demons - in plain sight, on the screens, for all to see -
they no longer hide,
convincing us to change our look into an unhealthier, plastic, boney cheeked anorexic - us shapeshifting with a shot to the stomach,
the aliens - the lizard people,
while the boldest of the bold drink the blood of the innocent from a tarnished chalice,
the non Twilight vampires,
and,
and,
they put in front of us a long list of their deeds,
people from all walks of life,
from all over the world,
from every type of religion,
from every type of government, corporation, or powerful establishment,
all the while our eyes still full of intrigue of trying to be like them,
a star,
an idol,
a role model,
a modern day success story of 'rags to riches'.
...
I swallow my cheeked spit,
then un 'Watch List' some of these people's movies
on my streaming services.
Ha ha - that'll show 'em, huh?
...
I cuss as I doom scroll past information that was created by a bot.
SHARE. LIKE. SUBSCRIBE. FOLLOW!
*I push the unfollow and angry face button instead*
...
I am my own Department of War.
...
Just show me where the blinking red button is
and I'll show you how quick I'll push it,
without hesitation,
just for a change in the script.
...
...
I kick the dirt of this earth and wonder
if any of it was ever real.
Not the mentally ill people on the screens,
but the life we thought was once real...
...and worth living...
...
The matrix collapses.
...
There has to be a better planet somewhere else,
God,
one that the scientists do not know about yet or have created out of thin air and led us to believe is actually 'real',
a hidden planet so your creation can begin again and just simply 'be',
a state of being that the people and their internet have destroyed,
a place where you can finally manifest yourself again,
and hang out with us,
and not be crucified for trying to save what you can.
...
...
My ears start ringing.
A dull hum.
That frequency.
...
Wait!
What?
It must be 3:00 am again.
...
Then,
I blink
and I see them.
...
the memories of old...
...
My old dirt road,
where six cars may have passed by in an entire day in my childhood,
a road where me and my cousins were safe to ride bicycles
and not have to worry about being abducted
and sold into slavery,
the road - now, paved -
a two lane cut through highway for Yankees and their GPS's to find the nearest interstate North,
and rightfully so,
because our piece of the world remains better when they take their money and return home from whence they came.
...please...
...
...for all of us...
...
The nostalgia flows again.
This time, quick.
...
I miss riding my four wheeler through the woods,
around the creek path,
setting fish traps,
disappearing for an entire day,
thinking nothing could top this moment or age of innocence that every child deserves,
only to see what everything around me has become.
.
Again.
Another wave.
.
I miss being the adored cool teenager
with little to no responsibilities,
getting a ten or twenty from my parents every now and then to fill up my Honda Accord with gas so I could go cruising with my two 15-inch Rubicon subwoofers, custom made box, and thousand watt Soundstream amp.
All my passengers liked to feel the vibrations,
and feel they did,
as did I,
and it was amazing to simply ride around with various souls
and watch them smile
and dance
and live carefree when the beat hit,
no matter what was going on in their life...
Zero screens except the windshield and an open, endless roadtrip to everywhere...
...
Now,
today,
I can barely hear,
but the escapes were well worth it,
for everyone involved,
because I can still see and feel the smiles on their faces
as they sit in my passenger seat and squirm and dance -
that nostalgia,
warm and fuzzy - I nibble on all day...
...
I love the special, secret moments in life.
...
All of us adults were once kids,
well all of us who are not aliens, lizard people, cannibals, clones, and vampires,
and I ask myself,
where did all of this go wrong,
but then I have to remind myself based on historical, biblical evidence -
the answer remains -
It has gone wrong from the very beginning.
And for me,
that acknowledgment is kind of sad,
wouldn't you say?
Better Door Dash a pizza to help me forget.
Fast and Pray...
Be still...
I am Vernon's Perceived Notion of What Should Be
...
One evening,
I was riding a golf cart on a farm,
driving into a steady North wind,
fifteen to twenty miles an hour,
at the time of dusk,
a cloudy dusk with no sun or sunset,
and the wind was crossing the land just enough
to make a noise that catches the right person's ear
and keeps it entertained.
The howl,
of the ancients,
of the ones before us.
The invisible scratching the surface.
Not of a threat.
Not as a warning.
The land wailing,
letting me know the restlessness is real,
but so is the peace that follows understanding.
...
If the meek inherits the Earth, Jesus,
make sure the meek has a big flamethrower,
a couple of hand grenades,
and candies without Red 3, Red 40, Yellow 5, Yellow 6, Blue 1, Blue 2, and Green 3...
..
.
I shake my head for the millionth time in a day
and wonder how much gayer things can possibly get.
..
Was the 1990's our peak as a culture?
..
Then I hear the words pulse in my ear, it making more sense, now, more than ever...
...
Be not conformed to this world...
but by the renewing of your mind...
for that which is acceptable...
...
And,
the older I get,
I see how I tortured my parents with my younger ways.
The weirdo music I listened to back then.
Studded belts and one hundred shades of black.
The beat box sound effects I made.
The imagination I carried.
The worlds I formed out of mere dust, then, destroyed.
The huffiness of never ending weekend projects with dad.
The disdain of more work than play.
Summer jobs in the tobacco field.
Girls calling the landline and mom always being the first one to answer and on purpose.
.
Back when time was slower - the good ole days,
as compared to now,
I sit and try to figure it out,
alone,
and I think some more because that is what I do -
how long have they been stealing time from us?
...
We live here on Earth,
yes,
but where this shell rests every night,
when our eyes shut and the projection is no more -
where do we truly go for that brief amount of time,
where three hours seems like an entire day.
...
Achievement unlocked.
...
And I still miss my old dirt road and surrounding tobacco barns that served as our hideouts.
And I miss grandma's flour bread and feeling the wild onions tickle my bare feet as I ran up to her front door and rang her doorbell -
a cowbell -
no Ring surveillance.
And I miss everyone being alive and so full of life.
And I miss having grandparents.
And I miss having my dad around.
And I miss disappearing around the creek bank for an entire day without a cell phone, water bottle, or food.
And I miss my home church for what it used to be.
And I miss my old hometown, before all the subdivisions and strangers came in and ruined it.
And I miss harassing my older sister and showing off in front of all her girl friends when they used to come over.
And I just,
well,
miss the misses worth missing.
...
..
.
But we all miss 'something',
don't we?
...
Could be just me.
'Row, row, row your boat,
gently down the stream,
Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily,
life is but a dream.'
...
They call them nursery rhymes,
but are they meant for just the kids,
knowing us adults,
us human adults,
are just grown up kids?
...
*I take a deep breath and close my eyes*
...
I am Vernon's Lingering Nostalgia
..
.
Here is your moment, Vernon -
show them what they're missing out on,
what they're forgetting,
things they're ignoring or turning a blind eye to,
each and every day
...
..
.
feeling young at whatever age you are at,
receiving a genuine smile,
having decent neighbors,
meeting a new friend - one that you know you can trust,
re-meeting an old friend and picking up exactly where you left off,
when you hit all green lights on a busy road,
eating your favorite snack and you can tell it is fresh,
when someone goes out of their way to make you feel special,
when the hairs stand up on your arm...
...
..
.
list the things -
they'll figure it out -
your time is short and so is theirs -
.
..
...
a fresh pancake,
snow days,
going to a concert with friends,
when someone truly understands how you feel,
knowing something others do not,
putting a fishing line in the water,
winter sunsets,
a good hug,
listening to the waves on a people'less beach,
eye contact that means something,
when you get on the back roads and no one is in front of you,
rolling the windows down in your car and jamming some tunes,
a soulful, home-cooked meal,
fresh fruit,
a warm bath, dark, surrounded by candles,
when someone says they love you and you can tell they mean it,
the movie Fight Club,
electronic music played over house speakers at an indoor venue,
going to a professional ice hockey game,
Christmas morning,
being forgiven,
...
is this what is at stake, here?
is this what makes my world real?
...
seeing mom pull down the driveway,
the smell of bacon cooking,
walking out of a theater, in the evening, after watching a life changing movie,
watching, lighting, and smelling fireworks,
non lethal thunderstorms,
watching kids figure out things in their own way,
being able to urinate outside while no one is watching,
frost on the ground,
getting in a cold bed at night,
the daydreams after buying a lottery ticket,
having co-workers you actually love,
watching a red light catch someone who held you up,
fresh squeezed orange juice,
the smell of Balsam Fir anything,
...
sometimes, the only way is through, right?
...
firing up a charcoal grill,
a campfire when the outside weather is simply banging,
nightvision,
hearing an owl 'hoot' in the woods late at night and you 'hoot' back and then it 'hoots' back and you think, well isn't this a hoot,
fresh spaghetti noodles,
a back rub,
a front rub,
the taste of your lower lip after hanging out in the summer sun,
the recoil and grip of a .45 Springfield XD,
drifting around in a lukewarm pool while Chill FM plays on a bluetooth speaker,
going to a fair and smelling popcorn,
getting good bloodwork back,
waking up with the sun - sober,
waking up with the sun - unsober,
the right kind of whisper that touches your ear ever so gently,
a joke that lands properly,
a joke that lands improperly,
being surrounded by beautiful women (and men if applicable),
irony - my soulmate - still,
a cold lipped kiss that fuses to the other person's lips,
eating blueberries off the bush,
the smell of gasoline,
watching a garden grow over time,
October and fall's approach into winter,
...
they want to corrupt this nostalgia - little by little - because they'll never have it like we had it, will they?
...
seeing people's dreams come true,
hearing my son say the blessing,
hearing a stranger quote scripture 'out there' in the world,
when that 3% of battery life lasts six hours,
having a laid back day at work after having four tough ones in a row,
Fridays,
Saturdays,
Sundays when you do not have to work on Mondays,
the first taste of a good BBQ sandwich with NO slaw,
not having to stand in a line,
fresh doughnuts,
going somewhere and not knowing a single soul,
helping someone who is truly in need,
being helped out when you are truly in need,
bowling,
fresh pajamas or the ability to sleep naked,
wanted eye contact from across the room and the grin that soon follows,
waking up to no alarm,
seeing the Amazon van pulling in your driveway,
...
more and more nostalgia and so on and so on and so on - right?
...
And, amidst the perverseness of the world,
the distractions,
the hate,
the ads,
the buffering of the buffered buffer -
we search for these things,
or at least I do - the crazy one - right,
to seek this intangible warmth,
only to find what?
...
That's right!
...
Kerosene in the Skittles and Roundup in the bread.
...
And all it would take would be one asteroid.
...
Just one asteroid, dear Jesus.
...
The size of Iowa...
...
...
Just make sure I'm above ground when it hits so I can finally make it back home...
...
hopefully...
...
..
.
if we are lucky, right?
.
Or forgiven.
I have new and old books for sale.
Feel free to check them out.
Thank you for your time.
vernonwrites 