03 11 04 – A weeping Moleskine.
The intellectual (or lack thereof) coup detat is complete. It is now AMERICAN’T. America’s dungeon doors are now locked, sealed. Her fate for the next century is enclosed with the emblem of Dubya (George W. Bush). Coins and cents will be tarnished with his resemblance and the mediocre (meek) will (shall) continue (inherit) to rise (the earth) by the seats of their SUVs. The struggle of the intellectual to win over madness is just that. How can a mind communicate w/ a non-mind? Yes, ignorance reins in this world and I see it clearly this day between the green of the gulf and ascending blue where a sky forever leads to the edge of a place we should be able to fall off. This is, therefore, the end. I’m not optimistic enough nor frivolous enough, to hope for what is right in my life-time. What is “right” has lost all meaning now. The response (with ignorance) to/of nine-eleven contains no thought, nothing cognitive in the least. And yet 3.5 million Americans believe that the path set since then is the “right” one–at least that’s what 03.11.04 tells us. And so there can be no correction other than a separation of states. Let the children of the red states serve and the die for their 9/11 response and the blue states suffer and loose weight for lack of (war driven) economics. When the final separation comes the red will prosper w/ large motorized vehicles serving as antics and the blue will be tired of starving when the first horde of invaders arrive.
Oh, in this consciousness I am driven to imagine. I wonder if irony and fate toy with me. Of course my intellect tells me it can’t. So I am stuck dreaming of the wonder. They, that is, who have left me behind. It will always be a simple journey, the path to my women. But once there I feel as if the struggle just begins or has already ended or… No matter who or what they are the clitoris stimulation connects them all. The byway to failure is nothing more than bypass surgery on a man who has never exercised in his life. To tell a mother to catch up w/ his mechanized health is like spitting in the wind. Oh, a God given (and not nature) planetary error.
Tbone
worstwriter 