Blogger Droid, sounds so funny, like a future human-imagined planetary conglomerate clusterfuck. Free my mind, indeed. It's the eve of the eve, like eye for an eye, but even more enduring. Why does it have to be so distasteful to me? Why am I so rarefied and fatalistic and artistic. An aesthetic. A hedonist. A masochist. A sadist. In a world that just wants to see those types pay heavily, over and over again. Earthquake, tsunami, nuclear meltdown, oh my! Not the first to crack that coconut, I'm sure, many classless before and a good wicked lot this way will come. Before, during, and after; fun with prepositions, reckless disregard for punctuation!! Alienated everyone; blister in the sun. Goddamn, she ocd just like us. My crazy child, italicize where you see fir. I will always have an affinity for and a solidarity with those who have gray matter blackholes. And disco. And tramp(oline)s. Is this poetry? I'm just trying to escape the event horizon and here is no iambic pentameter or syllabic tedium, just careless, strategic ellipses and other intellectual mental tics. And confessions. Jamaica, why are you so far away? And why do we yell at the injured out of anger at them for making us feel weak and impotent and vulnerable. "You are listening to dance." I love it! An imagination as big as the ocean in yours, seems so much and we so mighty tiny. In love: we come in peace, leave in pieces, limping into that bathroom, leaving that euphoria; so that we may collect ourself. Scores and updates; losses and misprints. Why is it that we can't be bothered with truth? Like some kind of innate collective subconscious fear, like we have of snakes. So long, last call for meta, ladies and gentleman may I have your attention please? In T -10 we are colliding with reality and we suspect this may be a turbulent re-entry.

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