T
TRGLDTE
Guest
How do I get back to where I have never been? I want to go back though. I see that I am still as I was, but the world is not the same, and neither am I. There used to be truth, but there is nothing that I now know positively to be true except that I love my kids; fully, deeply, completely. I used to think I was a nice guy, but that was when I was a nice guy. That schmuck was killed by greed, betrayal, hate, and anger.
Vaporous illusional busyness all around, the bee hive hum. Morse's question is flawed, corrected: What hath Man wrought? I need a new 5-iron for Father's day. Wrought from steel.
I am a man of steel. Steel man. Stalin. Maybe Uncle Joe had it right - some people just need killin'. Get the pit ready - It's hog boiling time. Head cheese and grits. The thousand pound boar. Hogzilla, Godzilla, Angelo Mozillo - boil that son of a bitch! No, "spit roast" him and use the entrails for chitlins. Soul food.
They say there is a thin line between genius and insanity. I hop back and forth across that line like Frank Burns teasing Hawkeye in an old episode of M*A*S*H. Mental hopscotch, but I've lost the dice. I'd really like to know where anger comes from. It starts as a small flame and bursts into a conflagration with a life of its own. Partition - I stand back inside myself in amazement and horror at thatself. A life of its own until exhausted it dies. I glad I haven't killed anyone... yet.
</weird ass rant>
Vaporous illusional busyness all around, the bee hive hum. Morse's question is flawed, corrected: What hath Man wrought? I need a new 5-iron for Father's day. Wrought from steel.
I am a man of steel. Steel man. Stalin. Maybe Uncle Joe had it right - some people just need killin'. Get the pit ready - It's hog boiling time. Head cheese and grits. The thousand pound boar. Hogzilla, Godzilla, Angelo Mozillo - boil that son of a bitch! No, "spit roast" him and use the entrails for chitlins. Soul food.
They say there is a thin line between genius and insanity. I hop back and forth across that line like Frank Burns teasing Hawkeye in an old episode of M*A*S*H. Mental hopscotch, but I've lost the dice. I'd really like to know where anger comes from. It starts as a small flame and bursts into a conflagration with a life of its own. Partition - I stand back inside myself in amazement and horror at thatself. A life of its own until exhausted it dies. I glad I haven't killed anyone... yet.
</weird ass rant>
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