The Art of Transforming Energy.

I hate myself, for a thousand reasons. In fact, I am so well-equiped to hate myself I could launch missiles, send smart drones...I could infiltrate, I could deflate my self-worth, slowly, menacingly, without remorse or mercy. I could describe, in exhaustive detail, all of the architecture of annilhilation. I could fill a library with nothing but step-by-step articles on how to destroy me with cold-blooded hatred.

And in the end? Blond, young, happy-go-lucky ol' me would still be standing there( well, actually, I would be curled up in the fetal position begging for my beating to cease ). But I would still be there, an eternal force. A challenge to any who would seek to put out the sun, or cast darkness on the waking hour.

I am indestructible.

And somehow out of this war, I seek to find myself in peace.

My body dies ten thousand times, I am riddled as warped as pimp's roladex. I am as black as charcoal and I am as wet as a virgin. I am reactionary and emotional. Even as I put these weapons towards myself, I crash them down on the spirits and people of my surroundings like a tidal wave of fury. Where I salvage an ounce of self-respect, my other side commandeers it for sheer wickness against weakness in fellow human beings. I conquor all and I eat the balls of a bull with utter disregard. Shadow me for any day of my life and witness the terror I put forth, should my reign be thwarted.

When you are honest with yourself, I am always relieved to find that you are a fantastically gifted and creative one that I want to hug and kiss and herald and recommend to God himself for angel status. I find my own wager to be so familiar. To witness a stranger live in peace is truly a gift!

As for me, as you can see, there is a wellspring of negativity within me that is like a water fountain...I am dispelling it with gusto, to hopefully cast the dirty drops beyond the pool, so that perhaps the rain will fill me with purity. It could happen.

I can't say I've changed. I have in fact become more the same than ever I remembered possible. You know, if not for THIS, I would not describe anything...at all! I would simply marvel and move and marvel and move, as if without any intelligence but for adherence to a pattern( which by the way is something any machine can do ).

Therein lies a secret...one of baffling power and infinite personal volition: A body is here because one chooses to be so. Of course, try turning the light switch off with your mind, and you'll give yourself a headache, but none-the-less, you may be the cause of ALL OF THIS.

If so, please, for the Love of God, tell me, because I should hope not to be all alone...WHAT IS IT?

I ask, I find drunken spiels and obsessively rendered sonnets and slavishly attended art shows. I find earth and her nature...LOVELY BUT FOR THE ABSOLUTE VOID OF HUMAN TENDERNESS...I find family...and then, I find a well of love and sorrow so deep, I again am shaken to rather wanting to annihilate me for ever creating this.

I really am quite sure I will never get my head around it.

So what? Masturbate? That worked until I did every single woman on the planet to flabby-cock-stankity-pussy-oblivion. After that, it was sort of a simple conversation with myself as to whether I would prefer to "get it on" even more with heroin...............or, then again, perhaps review my other options.

I think life is as baffling as it is to read this. I think if I read me, I would smile -- not in a dismissive holier-than-thou-put-greg-in-a-fucking-box way...but genuinely like, "Ahhhhhh, that fool is FUCKED and he knows it! Yah!" and I would really feel good for while about what we are doing here.

If you want to transform energy, you are fucked too. But nobody likes a welfare case. You are definitely going to have to figure out for yourself...pretty much everything. TV may have some helpful moments...radio may clue you in with a lyric...you will definitely need to know how to read. But teachers, books, internet, none of these things have answers, they don't even exist...you may be a scholar staring at drops of ink floating atomically galaxies above some smashed tree pulp, or at multi-colored illuminated crystals -- ALL VERY WEIRD ACTIVITIES.

People don't have answers because we are all fucked.

Nature, like I said, is a cold bitch and will laugh as you drop nuclear bombs on her face. Hell, if she had a heart, and got pissed, to scold us, she would just raise the global temperature 10 degrees, melt the fucking ice caps, drown everybody, send in an ice age to do off the rest. She'd start over with plankton 27 times before putting the sun out and turning all nine planets into asteroids. Any answer you find with her is bound to be an uncomforting one.

All of this can be easily transformed. EASILY.