| the HARANGUE
...absorbent punctuation, leaving one to gasp at apostrophes and commas, like strange behavior, or someone trying to spell everything in a French style, combustible paragraphs and translucent sentences, the reader plays gods and creates their own vision around the meandering words, these are the fascinations some adventurous souls seek and experiment upon.wasting time on too many things, large amounts of joy found in that which is often called trivial or stupid by others, put down in their own fetid malaise.malodorous insight, fundamental to the growth of common men and their love of the death penalty and all other things heinous and sanctioned, often recommended by friends or relatives or controlling governments of long established blood ties of little or no ascension.flimsily tired, too early in the day from too little activity, taking warm naps, to be awakened only to crawl off to a cold bed where dreams of dark nothing perpetrate the mind.not enough beer, cold or warm, for me to catch a decent buzz, sadly resorting to butane or fly paper, sadness exiting for the entrance of stumbling happy intoxication, at least until brain cells, cease their functions, when stumbling happiness becomes status quo.addictions of insight and splendor amplified by the actions of an altruistic mind wanting only to see more and expand further than previously mentioned.large legged women and small tits at three am drunk an mystified by the presence of a firm, well used cock and forbidding shackles in strangers homes meant for nothing but pleasure and tomorrows bad hangover.urges that cannot be quelled passively, urges leading to days spent in malls and bookstores before the bars open, before the alcohol flows, a constant betrayal of the aching libido, wanting and watching.waiting around for something I'm unsure of, unable to tire until it is found, searching the skies and railroad tracks for a sign from the Lord, realizing this something may never come, content with the facts, but always hopeful.dark, shiny hot seemingly summer days, still spring, muggy and hot like some wicked torture before I've been properly prepared, cool basements sole refuge, no more wicked apartments, till end of summer for assuming aching living.biker rallies and far too many drugs and too much alcohol, an experience to behold, condemned to participate for the sheer esthetic disbelief from the usual everyday mundanity.drink induced madness of froth and psychotics, rabid like a bat or sick dog, trying the tempers of the most laid back, burning with cigarettes and wild, until next morning when nothing is remembered and she wakes up with someone else, alone and frazzled like a sprung spring.young drugged women, telling you you're their new best friend on acid and coke, cant stop laughing or drive a car, but the sun shines anyway, we'll ALL be deep beamed red by tonight, when they catch up on sleep.city sidewalks, pretty sidewalks and bombs bursting in air, all around it's the feeling of apocolypse.side stepping obtrusive questions and candor, resulting in the betrayal and satisfied lay by another in retribution and insignificance of previous heresay.sick in summer, sick in winter, sick in spring and fall, something tells us the air ain't right here and no one wants to do anything about it but take the kids for a drive and drink motor oil for breakfast.flee infested, full brachiation with sagital crest and prehensile tail meant for the simple tasks of mating and gathering food and nesting material for future establishment, giggling like a chimp, angry like an ape.sufferings of west nile ebola strain syndrome with sugar on top, wondering when your gonna die, and waiting for the psychiatrist to divvy out the sweet and sour Prozac and chicken fried Lithium giving the go ahead for putrid recognition of hell.
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