19 till I die

Dear You, I hope you don't mind being the recipient of a long email. Sort of felt like writing something. :) I just recently went on nice road trip. I needed to get away from things. It's amazing what kind of a degenerate, self cannibalizing rut people get themselves into. I did for sure. But anyway, I found, like many others have, driving is a wonderful way of getting your mind off things. Literally, your mind needs to be on, the, road. Anything less and that you'll be smusch in no time. America is a good continent to drive. You drive and drive and drive all day and not see the same scene again. That again, is subjective. You could drive and drive and drive all day and still be in the middle of nowhere Texas where everything is flat and dry and just like Oklahoma... or Arkansas or New Mexico. :D But then again, it's enough to make you stop thinking of what you thought would happen. The only transition I saw was when between Missouri and Illinois. The rain helped.

Venom In that room, that big room That big room with light and breeze Where bright minds strutted,babbled and cackled With the grace of ibises And agility of hawks The beauty of peacocks And seductive persuation of Koels I sat, in the back and breathed it all. They could say,  What they already know. That we do not know That we don't know it all. In stead they're grandiose Like their sires and mentors Convinced their half truths,  Are magnificent edicts, Edicts of an imagined reality A truth we pretend to clasp. Just so that we can say to next man, It is now in my grasp, And still not yours to have. I breathed the stench of pettiness Of an ailing noble endeavour, Its spirit pickled in vanity. The stench of a macabre dance On the slime of ignorance The semi dirt of half knowledge In a rain of pretense, A fetid play of power, The violation of truth In an obscene mist of joy. I imagined it different, My no