Wednesday, May 8, 2013

A Failure F Success



OInowonnopiscenoverin merrin substrance veddid. I know this is fucked.
Every little thing I do now has to be scrutinized and I’m most suspicious of the
people closest to me. Dog tick kicks. They’re like animal outlets to my frustration.
Who else have I to complain to? What? My silent sheets? My sullen blanket?
I’ve had it. It was good. Why isn’t it? That’s all too easy. Why not? Nodes.
Oversimplicity and blank spaces characterize the plains, the Great Plains I’ve
never been to because I don’t have company, a gasoline budget for long distance
discovery rides, nor brakes that don’t make offensive noises when coming to rest.
Maybe I should just stop drinking, smoking, and jerking off. Where is solace?
How now Isaiah? At least I’m not a Mexican dishwasher. I have every God-
given right or opportunity I choose to seize, and yet, our parents and
our parent’s parents polluted America so who wants to seize a load of grime?
The day should be beautiful if not for soot and ye snake bittern owl cormorants.
Do you love your fellow man? As much as I would love a beautiful place out in the
country. Do you love your country? The powers that govern it make me suspicious.
Democracy: many voices, one head? Sounds like a freak that needs to be euthanized.
Put out of hizzer schizoid misery. Despot? I’d rather smoke a doobie or
suck a booby (not a red-foot or a blue-foot).
I’ve said and done some pretty offensive things in my life. Is it my fault that
most people would rather judge me than fight me? Size me up as a big man with
a small brain who doesn’t know what he’s talking about? That’s fine, but I’ve
just about had it with ALL this fuckin shit. People put their rights
before their God, so who am I supposed to believe but the cynic?