Tuesday, July 11, 2006

bright Spot

The post broke and I said damn god damn the stupid computer stupid this and stupid that. I'd go fishing but I don't care to go fishing. I sure could move somewhere but anywhere seems as good. It's usually about the people and when it's not then I don't seem to be worth much. Relaxation to boot to boot. I know what it's like to be sick of doubt. Just look at this piece, such a filthy looking thing. A bright spot discovered yesterday however has given hope, though so far it sings of thorns and the Men of America. The voices come from all around and there is but one that dances nearly invisibly. This is the desired one, the plot, the whole shebang. She bang but I don't hear nothing not an intonation tuning in or around, twas blind I think. A blistered blind thing wandering. Who calls there? Who is me? The voices, they come from all around and there is but one that dances. Nearly invisible it flutters in the wind's whims. The windmills the thorns the Men the voices the carnival of voices with but one voice that hardly deafens. Definitely dumb. We all love the hooligan tenor "or you can go to hell". Yeah, that's where it's at.

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