The Day the Homeless Fight Back

Make peace with your god

Things had finally reached the breaking point. "I don't know who made this world, but today they are going to die!"

I was one of them now - beaten, robbed and brutalized for the last time - now it was my time for life taking. Fuck them and their goddam lies and motherfucking bullshit. "You're nothing but a bunch of walking pieces of shit. You don't fool me anymore. You want shit? You'll GET shit!!!!!!"

A plasma rifle can cut through any object, any protection. There's only one and I got it. God wouldn't let the other fuckers have it because they couldn't be trusted, but now...they had pushed me too far. Do you really think you have the right to have any say in my life you fucking fucks?? Just couldn't let it go, could you? Pushing me and pushing me until I couldn't stand it anymore. Maybe you're doing it because you don't want to live and I'm merley fulfilling your wish.

Shellee, the shelter director, tried to stop me. "Don't do it, Harry! Don't take them out! You can't do something like this!"

"As Moses smote the cruel overseer, I shall smote them! Do you really think I don't know what I'm doing? The lack of understanding is your own, not mine. Say no more if you wish to keep your head."

She kept her head as a I queried my bunkmates at the shelter. "Who the fuck thinks I should work some goddam crap job the rest of my life?"

Not even my arch enemies would say yes to that here - they had been victimized far beyond the point of ever believing in the game again. Only the homeless can be truly free. The rest of you fuckers, well...

So I went out into the streets, only this time I'm not low man on the totem pole. I'm sick of you bastards with your hidden knives and hidden lies. Time to fuck you up - in the permanent way. You really thought it could go on forever, didn't you?

I threw down my gauntlet, "Where's a CEO? Give me the head of a CEO!"

Screwing sheeple is fun!

I walked over to the day labor camp where a decked out pickup was looking to pimp workers for a construction site. I asked the driver, one time: "You going to give these guys full scale pay for doing full scale work?"

"You think I'm stupid? I don't gotta pay them shit. I'll pay them whatever the fuck I can get away with. None of your goddam business, anyway!"

I answered him with a ringing head shot and he pimped no more. The laborers cheered me and followed me. But a cheerleader for the beast was outraged as he came storming out of his mansion.

"You conniving bastard! That man was offering those men work!"

"Don't worry. The work still exists."

"Work has no meaning without exploiting the workers, you commie anarchist! I'm calling the cops. Destroyers like you can't be allowed to roam free!"

"Dude! You took the words right out of my mouth!" Then I shot off his right foot since he liked leaning to the right so much.

"You bastard! I hate you! I'll hate you till the day I die! I hate you with every fiber of my being! You can't go around indiscriminately shooting everyone you see, you freaking sociopath! Peoples' lives are important!"

I smirked as he limped back. "My point exactly. Where were you when these exploited workers were hurt, fucktard?"

Dallas' finest soon came screeching in complete with Mighty Mouse theme song. "Here we come to pay our rent!"

Oh, please!

Mansion Man came limping back out. "There he is! Oppress that fucker!"

Cops are stupid for the worst reason of all: they choose to be. So I pulled out my puppeteer's strings. "I hereby pass a law that no man holding a plasma rifle can be arrested."

That immediately stopped the uniformed eunuchs in their tracks - making for a most livid Mansion Man. "I'm rich and I'm white! You work for me, not him!"

The policemen's simple minds were frozen in thought. "Sorry, mister, we have to blindly follow the law no matter what."

"You idiot, that only counts when stealing cars from punks with joints!"

It was then I decided to be helpful. "Hey, coppers, if you really want some booty, try taking Mansion Man's shit. Just imagine what you could get for his stuff at auction!"

Mansion Man was then thrown to the ground, arrested for being angry and taken away - along with all his shit. One cop giggled: "If I'd known we could take rich people's shit I'd done this a long time ago!"

Suburban Shock Troops were called out as soccer moms across the country trembled from my unthinkable threat to their feathered existence. The first line of attack was to bore me to death.

"Hello there, my name is Dr. Phil and folks believe in me because of my highly authoritative voice. How are you feeling today, Harry?"

"Pretty goddam dogmatic! And you?"

"I'm feeling great, just wonderful! And you can too! Right now, there's nothing more important to me in the whole world than fixing you. Just disconnect from reality and you'll be happy just like the rest of us."

I told him I'd incinerate all known copies of his books if he didn't shut up so I suddenly became not so important. The next fellow - a soul with the face of a snake - was not so lucky.

"Sir, I am the world's foremost arguer of bullshit and predatory propaganda - and I make a fortune at it too! And if I can out-argue you, then that means I'm right and you must put down your gun!"

Don't make me use this on you!

Whoosh! Cut his sorry ass in two. "Smart guy, huh? You fucking moron, don't you know better than to argue with a phased plasma rifle! HAHAHAHA!"

By now I had legions of sheeples following me as I destroyed their heroes and my show of strength pulled them helplessly towards me like a magnet. As word spread of my unstoppable vengeance, the phone rang on the desk of the most powerful man in the land.

"Sir, he's committing the worst crime possible: threatening our way of life. If the sheeple follow him instead of us we'll lose our high standing and the right to be shamelessly evil! Sir, it's unbearable, sir!"

"Don't worry about the sheeple. We've put them in two wars just to benefit us. Tricked them out of their entire net worth. Destroyed the economy for everyone but us then make them feel guilty when they lose their jobs. Dear god, that's funny! They've been kissing our ass since they came crawling back to Pharaoh looking for a free ride. But our free ride isn't coming to an end anytime soon!"

The CEO of Exxon hung up his phone, knowing that someday the Day Of His Demise must come - but not today. But then, that's what they always think.

Grabbing a can of 10w40 motor oil off his desk, striding out the office in a suit of armor both lauded and untouched, the de facto emperor descended from the 30th floor escorted by an especially vicious vanguard comprised of derivative traders, war profiteers, sadistic bishops and TV talk show hosts. It was a particularly ugly cabal and not one person in the thousands surrounding me had not been victimized by them - some even by the loss of their sons and daughters. But their anger was stilled as the CEO held the oil can above his head like a crown and the crowd parted like the red sea.

Heroin ain't the only black tar

"Behold! Who can stand before the beast? Who among you can live without it? You must live for it - you must sacrifice your children for it. Above all, you must serve it first if you want your life to have meaning. Bow down, you bitches!"

Bow down they did as the CEO's holy prostitutes tossed "In corporations we trust" T-shirts into the eagerly groveling crowd. With a grin of Biblical proportions, the ill-fated CEO winked at me with his eyes glistening like the pools of oil he worshiped. But that's the naivete of evil: it always makes you think you're smart. Time to give the oily devil his due.

First, I shot the oil can right out of his hand - and the sheeple gasped as I defied their god.

"It will happen like this: the price of oil will reach stratospheric heights as the supply can only dwindle. Without oil, food around the world will not be able to reach market and what does make it will be priced so high your very survival will be in doubt. There will be no place you can run to, no solution in sight - it will be hell inescapable."

Like a tennis match, the eyes of sheeple turned from me back to the CEO - who scoffed. "What he says is true - you will die by the millions. But which do you wish to believe: his fictional facts or my factual fiction? My way you live today without consternation, you can wishfully think of impossible tomorrows and dream of a life that can never be. Ignore reality with a righteous fury all your own and your words will be hailed around the world!"

Murmurs were heard from the herd. "I've got children to think about. I have to believe good things about tomorrow!" "Worship oil! Keep the CEO's dreams alive!" "Truth hurts! Lies are our true friends!"

Sheeple are funny people! Tempting as it was just to shoot everyone on sight, I instead proffered the Final Solution: "Since satire is lost upon your hapless souls I give you this: freedom. From now on, all things are free! From oil to food to the clothes on your back! Only the corporations keep you from the freedom you deserve! Fuck 'em all and live free!"

Instinctively the CEO implored a maniacal "Nooooo!" to the increasingly angered crowd. As the air of free life reached their long-starved lungs, the sheeple betrayed the betrayers and banished them in chains until death or repentance. It was the corporate cretins' worst nightmare - everyone forgot they were supposed to die. Freedom is not the end, it's the beginning.

Sharing life is such a beautiful thing

"We must learn to live together as brothers
or perish together as fools."
-Dr King

"Poverty is the worst form of violence."
-Gandhi

"Life is love."
-Steve

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That's how much I feel

How Much I Feel by Ambrosia

Homeless Man's Shopping List

Whatever floats your boat

Everybody has Shit To Git, don't care who you are. Even Emily, the stingiest bag lady in Dallas history, indulges herself in Starbuck's lattes on occasion. It's the plain ol' simple human desire to live. No matter how beaten down or low you go, there's always some little something that can help pick you up.

Of course, some asshole found my list and told me to fuck myself. You cant let anything out in this dog-eat-dog world or the fuckers will jump all over you. God what a beating it is living here on this planet. Anyway, unlike at the shelter, no one on the internet can bust my balls like these guys around here so I thought I'd post my own shopping list so you might compare it to yours.

Click to read

On misty nights I float away...

Sengoku Jidai: The Winds Of Destiny

Each of these provinces wanted to rule the entire country.
I highlighted my province in light blue.

When mafia families duke it out over a territory, there are no rules, no referees, no higher power to dictate the terms of the fight. Brains, brawn and bullets determine the outcome. Now imagine an entire country as one large mafia territory with dozens of daimyos, or warlords, vying to be top dog. Assassination, trickery, cunning, vile tactics - nothing is off limits! Let the best man win.

Such was the period called Sengoku Jidai in 16th century Japan. My name is Oda Nobunaga, I was the first great unifier of Japan and today we shall once more live those glorious and infamous times.

On one hand, it was the worst of times. To be a poor peasant was to be caught in the crossfire of ruthless, single-minded warlords who saw only their desire for power. As the flames of war's fortune swept across the land, only by fate's favor could you be spared. Oftentimes an entire village was burned to the ground to prevent an opposing warlord from benefiting from its resources. As a helpless farmer, you could only stand by and watch as savage swordsmen with determined faces stormed your town with torches in the night. Out of such tragedy the seeds of sorrow were sown.

But to a warlord, such things could not be helped. The lives of a few farmers was nothing compared to his goal of supreme power. And in my case, I even burned entire mountains down, killing men, women and children alike if they refused to end their warring upon me - a cruelty both unnecessary yet also forced upon me. A time of chaos dictates harsh measures be taken or the chaos never ends. My goal was to bring the nation under the rule of a single sword. It had been a long time coming.

Japan is a place unique in all the world. I spent many lives there before I became her ruler, shaping and guiding the culture of this babe of the world. I came to Japan a wandering Jew, a man of broken faith. Yet with my own eyes I had seen the power of God but how could I convey that? Religion is for non-believers and yet how could I explain a God to whom they had not been exposed? So I encouraged nature worship, knowing that to be one with God's nature required an inner peace to be achieved and we would then have harmony. Alas, harmony never came.

We started off with a holy monarchy, a la Egypt in the bad old days, with a divine emperor who ruled by the blessing of the gods. Such thoughts are always pleasant to the masses. And even though I also instilled the importance of social cooperation and the need to serve the community so that we all might thrive, human weakness being what it is trumped any sort of ideal and even the emperor found himself with rebellions to squelch. What was lost was the principle that in order to serve a society, that society must first be a just one. Later, the whole concept was perverted and distilled down to two words: "to serve".

Samurai means "to serve". Yet it was the servants who seized the strings of power from the emperor, upending the country into centuries of turmoil. Ashikaga Takauji was named the first Shogun - supreme military commander - by the divine emperor in recognition of Ashikaga's quashing revolts around the countryside. But Japan as a whole was still in its formative stages, disjointed and structureless, so an underlying disquiet flared up over the decades, eventually destabilizing the shogunate until the office finally held no military power. Thus began the Era of Warring States (sengoku jidai).

There is a famous parable about the three great unifiers of Japan: Oda Nobunaga, Toyotomi Hideyoshi, and Tokugawa Ieyasu. In it, we are able to gain some insight into their personalities. When a song bird won’t sing, each has a unique reaction:

Oda Nobunaga: "Kill it!"
Toyotomi Hideyoshi: "Persuade it to sing."
Tokugawa Ieyasu: "Wait, it will sing."

For me, it was the best of times. With no formal authority, I was free to make my own rules as I pleased. As Japan's guiding visionary, I knew best what she needed and time was ripe for a true unification. I remember mystical moments lying on the grassy plains of my Owari province, staring into the Infinite Sky and the winds I felt were the winds of destiny, blowing directly from Heaven. But to whom could I tell this without sounding a madman? Never before and never again had I felt so alive. The feeling within me was one I knew no one in all of Japan could have but me. I was to be the One, through me Nature's voice would be heard. With each breath I felt the swelling destiny of history, tapped by the finger of God.

Never again in our human story will there exist such a moment of pure freedom as that! I alone had final say in my actions - and let the proof of my deeds reveal me as madman or genius. Only Nature herself was my master and to Her I must always answer truly. On no man’s word could I solely rely for wisdom, I was pioneering a new way of thought and living, throwing out the tried and failed. The universe was my guide. It was the dawn of a New Age.

It was a renaissance of sorts. Keen minds across the land were plotting by lantern’s light schemes to rule the world. Intrigues of the mind, spies and other opportunists of warfare thrived in plans hatched to usurp power. But all eyes were on me, both from within and from without. I and my circle were the innermost group of the tangling warlords: the plans of other domains first centered around ours. I could feel their jealousies and hatred like a spider feels victims snared upon its web. And they fed me just the same.

I was not alone in hearing the call to unification and the New Age. Fools who stayed mired in the past with ears stuffed full of obstinacy were destined for slaughter. But those who chose to listen and to see, flocked to my side and because we served a purpose greater than ourselves, our decisions were blessed and our actions fruitful. After my legendary first battle, I rode the waves of history's dreams (though not without travails) to become the most powerful man in Japan. But to unify means more than just to conquer.

Without a proper societal model, all my victories would have been in vain. I started the great castle building era, giving birth to lively surrounding cities of commerce. I ripped away petty road tariffs - and petty interests of any kind - to open up the genius only freedom can bring and the enlightened self-interest of a rising tide for all boats. From freedom flows justice, and from justice flows a willingness to serve and preserve. Yes, I would rule with the sword to bring unification but the true binding force would be the revelation of this new, better way to live.

Tokugawa later had many castles destroyed
in an attempt to consolidate power

But I was a man of excess. I feared no man whether enemy or friend so to one of my own high generals I was abusive and unfairly critical. Fearing a foul fate, he instituted a preemptive strike and I was assassinated in a Kyoto temple. At this point half of Japan lay under my domain and I had laid siege to the other half. "Monkey" (Toyotomi Hideyoshi) was the ablest and most trusted of my generals. He avenged me and emerged from the ensuing dustup as the first man to rule a truly unified Japans.

But Monkey was no executive. He was skilled in the art of war and negotiation and intrigue, but once outside of that he knew no direction. In the 1590's he attempted two failed invasions of Korea and upon his death in 1598, he left only a small child as heir and a weakened government. The nation split into two factions: one side for Toyotomi loyalists and the other for Tokugawa Ieyasu, who two years later in the battle of Sekigahara assumed the reins of power once and for all, becoming Shogun and creating a dynasty to last the next 250 years.

The Tokugawa dynasty shut off Japan and clamped down on the freedoms of the Sengoku era, thus suffocating her growth and weakening her. I lost interest in Japan at that time and resumed my wanderings around the globe. But even now when I stroll a nature path and I lose the day and year I walk in, my mind flashes back to those times in the flowing Owari grass and only I knew what I knew. I remember standing on a cliff once, overlooking my conquered lands feeling as I were Joshua reincarnated. I can't describe the magical feelings running through me at that moment but they run buried deep within me still to this day.

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To read more on these times, I recommend Taiko (even though I revealed the entire plot here). Yoshikawa perfectly captures the spirit of the times and he writes not only from historical research but with a unique understanding of the people and events.

the rain, it's all my fault

it all started with the dishwasher, the cycle was done and i tried to pull a dish out but it was stuck, i tried another and it was stuck too, they were all stuck, then i tried using a sledgehammer feeling guilty about breaking them and maybe i was going too far and maybe there was another way i hadn't thought of yet and jesus! it was driving me insane but i couldn't find another answer, so i might be wrong but i hit those dishes hard as i could and it broke the hammer in two and the dishes won, so i guess i have to wash them by hand rest of my life.

the dog was barking, needing out, so i went to get the leash but the leash would disappear if i tried to grab it and re-appear when i stopped, but jesus fucking christ i only need it when i'm trying to grab it so what's it there for if i can't use it, and the dog won't stop barking, needing out more and more, a voice says take him out anyway but then he'll run away and die, and i will die, but with every bark i was dying so i guess i'm going to have to live with him shitting in the house rest of my life 'cause i can't find another way and who will want to visit a house like that?

then i left my house of shame with all my money to buy food for the body but when i go to check out she says no, but i said i had her goddam money god, she has to check me out, but she said no again, she didn't like me so no food for me no matter what, then the manager comes because he's so angry i'm so angry and asks why sell to a customer like me who gets all angry and throws me out the door.

i go home and turn on the computer and message bombs are waiting for me, exploding my soul, saying i had work to do but never did and asking what's the matter don't you like your work and now you've been found out so you better prove your lies are truth. so i go to work but some woman is there in the room i need to work in and i'm totally naked like always so i can't go in. i try putting on a short kimono but i wonder if it's too short because if i bend over she can see my butt at work which i don't think is bad but she will use the fire axe on me if i do, but i can't get the kimono on anyway because the sleeves keep closing up and jesus christ that woman is going to turn around any second now and see me naked, so the work never gets done and i will be yelled at and how can i tell them why?

so i was walking back naked in the rain and that felt good but feeling good makes them mad. the people from the grocery store saw me and pointed to me, telling the cops what i had done and look at him now, naked bastard with his shitty home, he's not one of us so the cop starts chasing me but the rain comes down blacker and blacker until the cop can't see me and i wonder if god helped me and didn't god know it's a crime to walk around naked when people can see your feelings they disagree with? if god knew the law of man would he still have helped? and if he did does that not make god a criminal?

when i got home god was on the phone, they said he told them if i stopped the rain i could stop the pain. i asked if i could talk to god but they said the phone call was not for me, but i did not accept those words and grabbed the phone in anger, yet i could not speak because i was afraid god would know me so i hung up the phone in irresistible panic of the moment and then asked them how do i stop the rain and they all said ask god, but i had hung up on god. so i rushed back to the phone to find god's caller id but the phone no longer worked ever again and everyone - and i mean everyone - was mad at me for taking a call not meant for me, so now the rain will never cease and the world will drown and it's all my fault.

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How To Destroy The World In Three Easy Steps. Part 1

Step one: Get everyone to sell their soul!

"Work will set you free!"

Nazis have all the fun. Slice enough throats and the rest will fall in line. And because everyone is a potential criminal, all must be shackled. The Nazi overlords tell you over and over: "Work will set you free", "We build body and soul" and "The Reich will never be destroyed if you are united and loyal" - and you believe these tenets with all your heart, all your mind and all your soul. Snap those shackles that bind you and all society falls apart - or so you believe. This leaves the Nazi smirking as he looks upon line after endless line of enslaved souls.

Work will set you free!

With twisted mind and tortured heart, the bent body of the slave defends his slavery. "Who cannot call me good? I'm proud of the shackles I wear! We must not question our overlords! Who among us can speak of a better way? Isn't to question and complain the way to doom and chaos? Do not these shackles keep us in line to do good? Let this thought possess you: Never break the shackles, no matter the heaven or hell that may come!

Parents didn't pay their bills, so this is not a crime!

"Freedom is the mortal enemy of us all. Let scum such as us do what we please and what would ever get done? Nothing! Give dreamers their dreams and who will do the dirty work? No one! Trust your fellow man and where will that lead us? Nowhere! These are your enemies: freedom, dreams and trust. It's nice to believe in such pleasantries, but no society can survive serving naive delusions like these, we must be practical: no freedom, no dreams, no trust!

"He's behind on his mortgage!"
"Ok then, run him over - it's not practical for him to live!"

"And if you die from the shackles you wear, know that you die serving the greater good - a glorious death indeed! Who are you to ask to live anyway? What have you ever done to prove your worth? Life is for the noble and only shackles can bring nobility. Life has no worth if lived without shackles! Listen, and understand: within each of us is an Enemy - an Enemy that will stop at nothing to destroy each and every one of us! Cage your Enemy, lock the Beast deep within you, never to release its devastation upon us!

Money worship brings unity to the nation!

"I bring these words to save you, to be the voice of reason and responsibility. I seek to give assurance in your hour of doubt, when temptation comes to release the Beast. The Nazis have control for the good of us all. Do not be high and mighty, famously full of yourself, thinking yourself above the law! If you do, you will find yourself standing alone, outcast from we the good citizens. Do that and your fate is surely sealed - as surely as the laws of nature cannot be defied. What I bring you here today is one simple thing: hope for mankind."

Don't dare to ask for more!

When Animal Farm Comes To Life

What kind of country invades a country
that never attacked them?

It's 1939 and Hitler has just invaded Poland, raping and pillaging at will, the atrocities of the SS repulsing even the regular army personnel. It is a nightmare of evil. Der Furor's rationale? Why to bring freedom to the German speaking minority of Poland, of course. The true reason was to grab ever more resources for a fanciful future. War fever swept through the country once more, giving them cause and direction. But really, Germany was doomed at that point having staked itself to a course of self-destruction.

Cut to 2009, America has invaded Iraq (again, to bring freedom!) and we too have failed to repent. ("We elected Obama, what more do the ingrates want?") To not repent means to stay the previous course. So while we may have repented in name, we have not in deed - thus we too have staked ourselves to a path of greater and greater violence. But our false egos will not let us admit that. Can't compare our killing to that of Germany's because good people like us deserve that oil over there!

We do this as if the truth cannot be known - and will not will out.

Looking to earn the SS merit badge

The drug of a "Holy War" is powerful and enticing. But like any poison, the longer it stays in you, the higher the cost of the damage it does. (What's really absurd is many people believe we need this poison to survive!) But those who carry the poison inexorably fear others won't follow its path to destruction. But paranoid Holy Warriors know the value of brainwashing at an early age. The Middle East is light years ahead of us on that but seems now we are catching up!

Cyborg dogs bark at me
But they know not why;
Abandoning their dreams
Thinking they won't die

Mindless hate is a beautiful thing in an attack dog. Remember Napoleon from Animal Farm? He took the Puppies and brainwashed them to suit his own ends, the perfect Useful Idiots trained to find reward in servitude. This same behavior is trickling down from our Permanent War mentality:

Have I got a war for you!

"The Explorers program, a coeducational affiliate of the Boy Scouts of America that began 60 years ago, is training thousands of young people in skills used to confront terrorism, illegal immigration and escalating border violence"

One of the Training Monsters is quoted thusly: "This is about being a true-blooded American guy and girl." Same thing was said to the children of Germanic wars. The Monsters teach character building tactics such as this: "Put him on his face and put a knee in his back," a Border Patrol agent explained. "I guarantee that he’ll shut up." The voice of experience, I presume. They hope to seduce the children with guns and violence and regimen designed to appeal to an unformed soul. Turns out, they like to seduce them in other ways too:

"...the Explorers have faced problems over the years. There have been numerous cases over the last three decades in which police officers supervising Explorers have been charged, in civil and criminal cases, with sexually abusing them."

Well, no fucking shit they're abusing them! It's not Gandhi out there teaching them this shit. These aren't true Christians, they're psychos looking to spread their disease. Under the guise of "law enforcement" we are training our own terrorists-to-be, unquestioning and addicted to the kill.

Teach them to hunt the "Bad Guy" -
then make the bad guy whomever you want!

"Their hearts pounding, Explorers moved down alleys where there were hidden paper targets of people pointing guns, and made split-second decisions about when to shoot. In rescuing hostages from a bus taken over by terrorists, a baby-faced young girl screamed, "Separate your feet!" as she moved to handcuff her suspect."

The Typhoid Monsters know that once infected, the children will fight tooth and nail to stay that way, for it gives them their sense of worth and purpose. With our Permanent Wars bankrupting us not only financially but morally, the more we'll find this sort of "training" to be acceptable and to some twisted minds, necessary! We are sliding down the slippery slope of violence and worship of our war machine - just like every other civilization that has imploded. And I see no signs of our stopping. Fear has won the day.

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Hey, it's Disco Night at camp Hero Worship!

This Suit Of Mine

The building had more hallways than ever to be counted,
Which was good,
I rarely ran into the same person twice,
So the time I spent was only in moments of greeting,
And I beguiled them who I be:
Rich man, poor man, beggar man, thief;
That's how I wove my web of disguise,
For a moment's time I could be anybody -
But never me,
I saved the truth of me for none but me,
But that's a fate too lonely.

Yes, my shirt is ragged and shoes in disrepair,
My holy jeans in tatters - the clothes of despair,
I told this poem to some,
But not to a Certain One,
Journeying through secret passages,
Revealing the thief in me,
Finding the closet of hope,
"Come see the suit of me,"
The linen shimmered in unaccustomed light,
My Visitor smiled and eyes grew bright,
I had taken an awful chance -
My breath both uneasy but finally shown,
But my gentle Visitor,
Left my cover unblown.

A handsome word was spread,
"He has a suit to see!"
I really got to say,
Was not the worst thing happened to me,
I tire of my disguise of rags,
Seeking safety among the paupers -
Of whom nothing is expected,
Because I know where the world is blind,
And how it ignores the divine,
And finds the shallow sublime,
Knowing this place never admits its crime,
I knew I'd never have to admit mine.


But lonely feet can never stand still,
Seek! Seek! Seek!
But too much wandering makes you ill,
I came upon a garden party,
Through the prison of my eyes,
I felt the life within,
Wishing to join in,
But the guards were of official mind,
Pretty policemen in uniforms creased,
With I clad in disdained smudges,
Against reveling partiers in finest finery,
The copper hissed at me,
"Piss off, you! We'll have no soot upon our suits!"

But a voice spoke up to hear,
The Visitor of my hidden closet,
"He has a suit to see!"
So that somebody let me in -
Sometimes it takes only one,
Reluctant, scared, proud, profane -
That's how my suit debuted,
Among the acceptable folk,
Admiring hands lovingly touched the fabric
of my soul,
Sweet carresses brought forth
an involuntary smile,
But these threads feel so ill-fitting,
And crooked as I walked,
"Dammit, that's why I keep it hidden!"
Until finally I balked.

I had a greater hunger
Than those who munched their food,
And came the fatal moment
For my acting rude,
Peeling off my clothing
Until completely nude,
With needs so stiffly showing,
"My God! He's just too crude!"

Sharp dressed men and well-heeled women,
Observed pristine police wrestle me down,
Below their noses,
In jailhouse my suit glows bright orange,
Of course it wasn't of my choosing,
But that happens when you're losing,
The naked man is evil!
Worse than killing souls combined!
He reveals the ultimate crime,
A sneering inmate asked me of my time,
"Life" was the only sentence,
No more this suit of mine.

____________________________________

A Polarity of Politeness

He greeted with a politeness -
But never with himself;
His pleasantries were delightness
But had he secret's hell?

He never raised a word
That threatened or cajoled;
His speaking tone was heard:
"If I may, to be so bold."

In a world of fiery lip aiming
And with bony finger pointing;
He forsook angry blaming
Finding no soul disappointing.

Flocking femme fancied his demeanor,
"Oh, he's as polite as could be!"
Burning hearts wished he was meaner,
"Oh...he was as polite as he could be..."


Hidden was a Keyless Door,
"This room where none can endure me."
Politeness forbade us asking more -
Such a lovely currency!

But plain the quiz upon our faces:
Was he a pretender to his joy?
"Please, rest assured my life is aces!
"Forever I the happy toy!"

Well-honed instincts trained to please
Knew the gifts sold to be lauded;
Receiving our soothing appease
We then dutifully applauded.

Yet of his Room I wondered,
Did it hold a raging sin?
Fretting I had blundered
Never asking to be let in.

In proper politic, he said he had it made
Charming us with irresisting kindness;
We kept sunny his pop parade
With a keen obliging blindness.

Dancing to his silent dreams
We mistook his shuffles for a voice;
But life is never as it seems
When felt lived without a choice.

So till the time of no more breath
He claimed impossibility of strife;
Polite he made his tear-stained death:
"Fear not what's lost in life!"

But in hasty post he'd sent a letter
Telling of the Room with Keyless Door;
Hope's confession to sway death better,
"T'was in that room I pled for more."

________________________________

Norma Rae and the Sheep of the World

Happy Mother's Day.
She just lost her hearing from the factory noise.

If the world was stripped of all illusion and facade, and all things and all people revealed to be as they truly are, what we'd see is a vast vortex of love around which our lives are centered. And how we deal with that vortex defines our lives. If we could see our lives truly, we'd see our actions for what they are: expressions of our need for love, that love is at the center of all of life's issues. Money, religion, war, sex, suicide, dreams, politics, debating - whatever issue you want to bring up is really about our struggle for love.

Of course, we rarely admit that. I mused on my last post why we accept without challenge throwing people out into the street. We see it, we shrug, we move on. I asked why but I already know why: most of us don't see ourselves as worthy - but since we all need love and therefore need to feel valuable - we build value systems to make us feel valuable regardless. Assholes say assholes are the way to be. Lovers say lovers are the way to be. But if your values aren't true you still won't actually feel valuable. That is how sheep come to be.

"The way to despair
is to refuse to have any kind of experience"

It is commonly said Hitler killed six million Jews. Technically, that is a lie. That's way too much work for one person to do, especially a quitter like him. No, he ordered the deaths for sheep to carry out and obey they certainly did. We love to praise those who blindly follow orders but that is just another example of creating false values - there is no value to being a sheep! And since a sheep can never feel good about itself, the sheep never fights back - even when it's in the sheep's best interest.

Would a nation of lovers followed Hitler? Would a nation of truth-seekers followed our previous President into a false war? Do dreamers ask the state to control their lives? We like to blame our leaders for the state of the world - and certainly words of evil flow from their lips - but we determine which voices to praise or deny. And that is why we accept the injustices inflicted upon us - we figure we really aren't worth much anyway and who are we to question anything? But the real question is: who are you NOT to question anything!

"Are you sure I'm allowed to dream?"

So I can't imagine the role of a union organizer in a conservative southern town where people pretty much don't care about themselves and don't much care to hear life should be anything than what it already is. Me, I'm a negative person and would swear it could never be done - but that's why my counsel is so often unwise. It takes a certain kind of self-love to pull off a feat like that and I too often resist the vortex of love to have that virtue. You see, you can't fight for the rights of others without also fighting for your own right to love - I often despair on that count.

Jesus came to divide, not to unite. And standing up for your rights will certainly cause people to part like the Red sea - it's a person's value you're truly questioning, a matter of life and death. Some rush to your side, emboldened by the strength you show while some depart your side, threatened by that same strength. The more you stick to your guns, the more bullets come flying your way. You're told in no uncertain terms you are no one to make waves, you are a destroyer of lives, you are unworthy of love. For the most part, you're out on that limb alone and the thought of "What the hell have I done?" will surely come to pass.

Copper says: "I enforce the rule of self-hate."

So while in one sense it's a battle for union rights, the true warfare is the one for self-love, of finding your worth. A conservative person resists the call for change - he fears change more than the company's abuses. A liberal person faces the need for change, embracing it as much as one's bravery allows. Tell me, is there any greater oxymoron than the phrase "conservative philosophy"?

There's a commandment that says not to take the Lord's name in vain. What that means is you are not to say you are without worth. You may do things that have no worth, or take a path that has no worth - but no matter what you do there's still an inherent value in every soul, that piece of God within you. The more we recognize the value of our soul, the less injustices we tolerate.

So yeah, I know why people don't stick up for their rights - but being a sheep won't save you.

A Desert Death

It's a special kind of dying in the desert, a cruelty all its own, an attack on the mind as well as the body. The roasting sun hears not your pleas and knows not your protests, its only job to bring suffocating waves of heat without pause or hesitation. Your brain literally cooks in the oven that is your head. Your protective skin withers in peeling layers from the fiery rays. Parched lips crack and split open, knowing tomorrow will bring more the same.

When the sandstorms come, no one is left on the planet but you. No beast may hear you or see you in the blinding and deafening winds that trap you more surely than any prison cell. With the time of your sentence unknown, the mind goes mad with anticipation of release yet feeling that time may never come. Yes, when the imprisoning sand rises up, its rule is absolute, severing you from all human needs.

Nighttime is daytime's left over decay. During the day's domain, the mind, body and soul hunker down like in a tank-like bunker. The task then is simply to endure. Night brings the pain of breathing. Demons of the dark demand their due. Where is love? Where are dreams? Where is hope? Unsatisfactory answers are rewarded by a pitchfork's painful poke. The torturers ask again and again until night reaches end. You cannot beat the demon, only expel it.

Any "water" you find is rancid and foul, pools rejected by the living souls who travel by in life's caravans. One taste - and drink one must - and your guts twist in agony as the black liquid poisons it way through your system, bending you in contorted hell. You pray for death, but death will not come. You stand as your own enemy, cursing yourself for the water that sustains nothing but delay of doom.

Sometimes, wandering angels drift by - my only companions without snarling teeth or a lizard's cold skin. For hours I've sat motionless in an empty stare, caring only for the end. The angels spark a faint flicker of life in my black universe. Crawling slowly, my worn feeble hand rubs my sand encrusted eyes as my body protests my movements with howls of pain. I reach my pen and paper, weathering the sandstorms of my mind unleashed by the fury of sudden sobriety.

I can hear the angels above discussing me.

"What on earth is that wretched creature doing?"

"I can't imagine it's anything of use."

"Perhaps he's writing a suicide note..."

"Who's going to read it? The vultures?"

"Oh, I see now! He's blogging!"

"Blogging? Well, all I got to say is it better be witty and funny or I'm not reading that shit."

Breaking The Law!

I'm more outcast than outlaw but I've always had a disdain for the facade of our pretentious world order where we always claim to know "the way". There's a whole underbelly of reality out there you won't see any "proper" talking head on TV ever admit with all their "serious" talk of the economy and other garbage they pretend is real. And any of us who do speak the truth are immediately dismissed because, you know, our suits aren't as nice.

But as I've said before: the world is a criminal enterprise. You know how you can tell a place is crooked? The assholes live the best.

So I have a certain amoral response when all the "responsible" folks tell me money has to rule. I say, "Fine. Let's play by your rules - fuckers." Let me place money over you!

When I first moved out, I got a job as breakfast cook in my tiny hometown and I was living with a co-worker, a disturbed Vietnam vet who told me stories like when he's driving down the road he often fantasized about swerving into the oncoming traffic. He also had no running water in his house (I guess 'cause there was none in Nam) and the window in the room I slept in was broken.

So when my parents offered to send me to a vocational school just outside of Amarillo I said OK even though my interest in it was completely zero. But it had to be a step up. And it was there I met Robert - he really was an outlaw so we were sympatico instantly. Robert was a rock 'n' roller complete with - gasp! - a pair of drumsticks used in an actual concert. His dorm room had nets on the ceiling where he placed album covers and memorabilia to lord over its inhabitants. He also had the coolest poster ever of aliens rocking out on a stage in space.

I "stole" his bike once and when he came pounding on my door looking for it I told him I had no idea where it was but I had one just like it I could sell to him. I also called him "Lius Chama" (a character from "Joe Kidd") for no other reason than for its esoteric value. ("It's not funny! I don't know why you're laughing!") I remember I took something else of his - don't remember what - and he started chasing me down the hallway in his underwear. I smirked as I headed for the exit thinking he'd never follow me there. I was wrong. (Yes, people saw it and everyone wanted to know who the "underwear guy" was.)

Luis Chama!

Robert's roommate was Duane - who had no problem telling you how "fine" he was - and he owned an item of truly exotic worth: wheeled transportation. Duane wanted some new fancy wheels for his pickup and when he and Robert asked if I wanted to tag along I said sure. It was the first time I ever set out to intentionally steal something. We drove into Amarillo proper and found some fancy apartments where Duane might be able to "obtain" some new rims.

We split up, looking for unlocked cars - I remember sitting in a Corvette for the first time - and though the car wasn't stolen, the feeling sure was. It was great just sitting there outside the law. I think one of us finally set off an alarm and we scurried away to IHOP for some midnight stoner food. It was a giggle fest with me with making the syrup container "talk" by flipping the lid up with every word and I stuck an exploding cigarette into Duane's pack while he was in the bathroom and when it actually worked we thought that was the funniest thing ever!

Such was the genesis of my life of crime and by the time I was through, Amarillo would never be the same with the psychic scars I'd leave on her sad soul. Like Dillinger, Robert and I were tired of our meager existence and we demanded munchies for all! I was visiting him at his Mom's house in the city and we hatched our plans to grab edible goodies from a nearby 7-11 by making a mad dash out the door with our loot. Some old lady was behind the counter and we thought, eh, this'll be an easy knock off.

But after running out the door, Grandma Sneakers comes chasing after us yelling out, "I got your license plate number!" Robert looked at me with a pained face. "We gotta go back, man, this is my sister's car. She's going to KILL me!" So we trundled back and I actually bought some Doritos with the last of my cash as a way of apologizing with a genuine purchase. But like Pharaoh of old, God only hardened my heart and I failed to repent.

Stacy was a friend of "the gang". She lived in the city and she too was an actual owner of four wheeled transport. We made her the (reluctant) Bonnie to us two Clydes. The rampage would continue, but this time I had a plan. First, we put a cloth over Tracy's license plate. Then I came up with the idea of Robert and me going in separately. I was first, my job to grab as much beer and chips as possible and then stare at whatever items were by the exit. Then Robert - who was a rather athletic fellow - would come in and start to wander around. That was my cue to make my mad dash out the door with Robert assuring the clerk, "Wait! I'll go get him!"

Worked like a charm! Feeling rather heady, we knocked off a second joint, only this time a customer in the parking lot thought our covered license plate rather suspicious and when we scrambled to the car to make our getaway, this guy decided to play Smokey and the Bandit and follow us in a high speed pursuit! Bonnie, err Stacy, panicked and floored the car out onto I-40, hitting 100 miles per hour. We lost him, but a fuming Stacy wanted no more of our life of crime.

We only had the chance to pull it off one more time when some guy somebody knew showed up with his parent's brand new conversion van. We found an isolated 7-11 to hit but some black kid was on the pay phone out front exactly on the escape route Robert and I would need to take. So Robert took the liberty of telling him we were going to steal some shit and the kid was cool with that. We screeched away with no problems, on our way to sneak into the last song of a Ratt concert (I know, so not worth it).

Might wanna rethink that!

Our last act of terror was at a Denny's. Four of us were there but we were not about to let poverty stand in our way of a fine meal. My plan this time was for all of us to leave but Robert, who would then go up to the counter to "pay". He'd say, "Oops, I left my wallet in the car." Then join us in the waiting ride for a frantic escape to digest our ill gotten gains.

In a dog-eat-dog world, sometimes one must resort to the ways of the outlaw in the gritty struggle for survival. What's really scary, though, is when I see America pulling the same trick - only we use our military to steal what we want. But the times are still woeful for me, and Robert, if you're reading this, I can tell you where all the easy 7-11's are in Dallas.

_____________________________

Lifting The Curse of Male Sex

I'm going to ask you to picture a person: This person is standing in the middle of the street, gripping with white knuckles an automatic rifle, teeth are clenched in seething rage, their face is flushed red with fury and they are howling in frustration as the trigger is squeezed.

Now I ask you, did you picture a man or a woman?

I know the idea that men have sexual needs is an explosive topic for many people and will engender bitter remarks. It's also a most excellent mirror and that is the case I'm making today. Sex for men is a necessity like food. Sex for women is a nicety like dessert. There is a difference between not being happy with your diet (and calling that happiness necessary) and the necessity of having a diet.

But admitting these things is problematic. Women become furious with the idea they could be using blackmail in their relationship. And men hate admitting any vulnerability - precisely because they so certainly are. The real pisser though, is even if you are getting sex - if it's not the sex you need, it's the same as having no sex at all. The amount of ugly realities buried out there is beyond human comprehension.

But if the curse of sex were lifted, these are the things I see that would happen:

First would come a thunderous thud as a hundred million rifles dropped to the ground in disinterest - making war impossible.

A man stops striking his wife - as he is no longer her prisoner.

Monasteries empty as men re-enter the flow of life - with divinity no longer a requirement.

Divorce rates skyrocket - as men enter relationships only of their own free will.

Frowns of pierced agony disappear - as the demons' pitchforks depart.

Grey hair turns to brown - the pressure is off.

The blackmail of money disappears - along with the need to control women.

Lying lips stop in mid lie - no longer seeing the reason why.
Eve was not the first to bite the apple, Adam was and he then handed that apple to her (scared old men reversed God's words). And for that God made men women's bitch. The entire culture and structure of the world is centered around men's insecurities and inferiority complexes. All because we seek to suppress one simple truth - a battle that can never be won. "Surrender" is a code word for men carrying connotations of endless terror. We each are expected to fight for the lie. What a bunch of fucking idiots. The only way to win is to surrender - or stay a lying loser forever.

We are a funny lot! Here's what's really happening:

We're playing those mind games together
Pushing the barriers, planting seeds
Playing the mind guerrilla
Chanting the mantra, peace on earth
We all been playing those mind games forever
Some kinda druid dudes lifting the veil
Doing the mind guerrilla
Some call it magic, the search for the grail

Love is the answer and you know that for sure
Love is a flower, you got to let it, you got to let it grow

So keep on playing those mind games together
Faith in the future, outta the now
You just can't beat on those mind guerrillas
Absolute elsewhere in the stones of your mind
Yeah we're playing those mind games forever
Projecting our images in space and in time

Yes is the answer and you know that for sure
Yes is surrender, you got to let it, you got to let it go

So keep on playing those mind games together
Doing the ritual dance in the sun
Millions of mind guerrillas
Putting their soul power to the karmic wheel
Keep on playing those mind games forever
Raising the spirit of peace and love

Cine: "A Man and A Woman" (and a Guilt Monster)

Un homme et une femme

It's been a few weeks since I've seen Claude Lelouch's film "A Man and A Woman" (France, 1966) and it hasn't left my head yet. One of the ways I judge a film is by how well it echoes afterwards. Somehow - in a film with people I have almost nothing in common with - something reached me and found a tender spot. I dreaded watching it - the feared "relationship film" - but I was stuck with it and gave it a go. It did help a little bit as it was described as tres cool on the cover. I'm a sucker for 1960's French cool.

The storyline didn't bode well: two widowers finding each other in their first relationship after their losses. I had seen Blue (of the famous Blue, White, Red trilogy) which was a really heavy (but great) film dealing with sudden loss and I didn't really want a repeat of that or even tinges of it. Luckily "A Man and A Woman", while certainly not a light film, did not probe the inner depths of grief but rather we watched the re-flowering of two individuals. It takes a high amount of skill to walk the line between schlock and sublimity but Lelouch was up to the task.

It's also madly atmospheric with every shot framed and lighted with loving care. It's a film you absorb as much as you watch. I also loved all the little moments of self-talk and hesitation - do I extend my hand out or not, what could he/she be thinking? Lelouch truly enjoys the poetry of the visual medium and the entire cadence of the film is that of small vignettes streaming together, carrying us along on the couple's journey of self-discovery.

Those who criticize the film do so for seeing it as having too much style. Our would-be lovers are too beautiful, their careers - he a race car driver, she a film script supervisor - are too elite, with lifestyles too far removed from the grubby masses. But if an auto mechanic can know a broken heart, so can a sleek race car driver. Despite this sort of reverse snobbery, the romance is true and simple but with all the complexities of opening one's self up anew. The ending was perfect: subtle and complete with the enticing hint of more steps yet to come.

For me, there's an other-worldly quality to the film, like I'm peeking into lives that I shouldn't be seeing. Or maybe I relate to this film so well because it's how my life should be had I found myself along the way. Enjoyment erodes with my guilt and angst, fretting over the sense of inadequacy. It's amazing how often the reality is we ask for our own demise in the effort to express ourselves truly. For though I dearly loved this film, Debby the Guilt Monster came kicking in my door:

What the fuck are YOU doing watching this?

Nothing. I, uh-

When was the last time YOU had a relationship?

I haven't exactly...

I've had relationships all my life. You know they are THE most important part of living. And what have YOU ever done?

Nothing, I know.

So what makes you think you're good enough to watch this, bitch?

I don't.

So what are you going to do about it?

Nothing I can do.

Do I need to remind you all the chances you blew, Mr. Smartest Man Alive? Do you know how many women hate and despise you right now?

I know.

I'm the only one that knows the whole truth about you. You know that, don't you?

Yes. I haven't dropped my guard since you left.

You're still just one big act, aren't you?

Pretty much.

Give me one good reason why I should forgive you.

I can't.

Well, you better find one before you die! You know that don't you?

Yes, I know...

But you're not going to do it, are you?

I don't see how I can.

God, you're pathetic! You should just off yourself and end the misery now. There's no point living without a relationship. *I* worked on that and you did not. Why should I do anything to help you?

I don't know. I can't see why either.

Have you been fooling people again? Making them feel sorry for you and shit like that?

I can't help it.

Jesus! What can anyone do with you!

I want you to be proud of me. I want to be someone you're not ashamed of. It kills me I'm not that person. Failing you is unbearable to me. Only you know my crimes and I'm completely dependent on you. I don't know what to do, Debby. You're the only person I can talk to but the only time you talk to me is when you're yelling at me.

Are you telling me you don't deserve it?

No. I know what I did. It's unforgivable even if I live a thousand lifetimes.

Damn right it is!

Everyone thinks you're being unfairly angry with me.

And do you think that?

No, it's more than fair you speak to me at all.

And your lying, chickenshit ass better not forget that!

I'm sorry I tried to watch this film like I'm somebody normal. I know it's a dream I forsook.

You're going to die a 12-year-old, aren't you?

Looks that way.

Watching others live, poaching feelings vicariously through their lives, wishing from afar you were one of them. I can't condone that. You can't expect me to. There's no hope living with someone like that.

I know. But I can't resist you. You know what The Dream is. That can't be replaced.

I don't know what to say to you. I can't stop my disgust. The more I hope for you the more you hurt me. That's what addicts do. Where does it end?

It ends when I have a home. I can't forgive me either. I know I burned it down and it can never be the same again.

Fine. I'll be waiting until the next time you call out for me - and you always do. And if you haven't changed by then, well...you know what's going to happen.
_________________________________________________

The Diary Of A Sad Man

Hi, my name is Simone! I'm a French girl, sleek and ritzy and refined. I bring love and joy to the world because that's all I know how to do. I also ooze feline mystique in spades. You must honor my delicate sensibilities like my daddy does or I'll stay just outside of arm's length anytime you try to pet me (sometimes I do that anyway). He says I'm "an angel of the angels" - and he's right!

My daddy is very angry. He yells and screams and kicks things then doubles over clutching his stomach in pain. I don't know why he does this. Life is very horrible for him. I only want him to be happy. Family time is the best time! But he says he can't talk to anybody and he's trapped like a dog. So I looked in his diary, the stuff he says he can't share with other people because they are unfeeling monsters.

I couldn't type this in myself so I called Mrs. Michaels and she said yes this is important and I thanked her for the use of her opposable thumbs in getting this out. She told me if she had to choose between saving a Rembrandt or a cat, she'd choose the cat. I like Mrs. Michaels!

This is the stuff we picked out that seems to make him so angry:
-------------------------------------------

Missing her is killing me... Of course, I can't tell anyone this or the Flame Thrower Fuckers will roast me alive. Maybe their needs are unmet too and that's why they can't stand to hear of mine. Can someone please pull these knives out of my belly!!!

I can't stop hating her. How could should leave me like this knowing I need her? Who made up this rule of needing someone? Do I get to kill God too and make Her need someone too? Does not God understand I have to have someone I don't have to lie to? Guess not, guess God's a monster too.

I can't read those posts on OS where people talk about their lives and what they got. I have to put up a front like I'm living too. But they don't know I'm far, far away, stuck on the moon and separated from everyone on earth. They'll fucking kill me if they find out. "What they fuck are you doing there! How do you expect to live all alone like that! You're a fucking idiot!" I talk the talk while others walk the walk. Good job that.

I wish I could put God in a 6x4 metal Cell Hell and make Him horny as hell every day. God, how satisfying that would be to hear Him wailing in pain and torment, pounding on the sides of the walls in frustration, ripping out His guts with no possible hope of escape or satisfaction. "Die you motherfucker! Die! Maybe You'll think twice about inflicting screaming agony on everyone who isn't goddam perfect. You give no quarter so neither shall I. Enjoy Your daily crucifixion and know that if anyone but me hears Your wailing they'll call You a faker. HAHAHAHAHA!"

I can't forgive her for not speaking to me. My soul doesn't care why she doesn't, just that she does not. It's too late now anyway. How could I ever trust her? So hard to tell what's real when no one admits their feelings. Drives me fucking insane!

The Strong Ones must bear me. Anyone who's like me I instantly hate and repel - as they do me. We cripples always recognize each other and despise one another. Each has his Strong Friends on whom they rely and I call that pathetic to have no real friends because you can't walk on your own. I hate living on the generosity of strangers. What an obvious parasite I am. I had dreams to bring. Dreams like no one else on earth.

Who created this world that has so little understanding of who we are? I could tell them they are Love Beings but that's exactly what they are trying to hide. A person's worth is determined by how much he can lie about himself and get away with it. Whoever lives the most can tell the greatest lies. I can't compete on that scale. I'm not living at all.

How can she not be suffering? I bet she is happy after all. I can't imagine someone never having to live alone. High school, college, marriage, kids - never a broken heart or dating for years trying to find the Right One or having to make it on her own. Is she really that good? Can her husband really be a good banker? Is there no one I can vilify but me?

The street is the only place where I don't have to lie. This whole bullshit planet can fuck off die. I know it's not wrong to breathe - you just make it a crime. But it's our spiritual life that determines our fate. And what a poetic justice it is to see them dirty the air so their bodies literally cannot breathe as well. All life is self-expression. They keep hoping it's something else.

The monsters are coming, They want to fill my body full of drugs and make their lies mine, to socialize me in their own image, to play God. The greatest sin on a dying world is to be hurt. Too many guilty souls know they're to blame and they have to silence you before God finds out what they did. The madness of men.

Only Simone can love me. She does not tell me I lie - nor ask me to.

------------------------------

Black Sabbath - Paranoid