I sit down, lay on the couch, sigh a sigh of uncontent, a woe is me to the world for my mediocre suffering, at best, and I wonder, I wonder: Why? Why is the human condition lonely when all around is gold? Why do dogs bark at shadows in the night in their safe homes on their safe master's bed on top of their comforters comfortable and warm and shaded from the real harsh reality of nature's world? What is the law that state's the lonely man's heart must flutter and fall and where, pray tell, is the fire that burns that heart black and turns it from gold to straw; to nothing but useless soot?
What is it that causes the human heart the brain the innards inside spew forth hate and strife and moralized puzzles that only dead mean can answer? What, pray tell, is the good of the darkness inside every man to put pen to paper, the need the want the desire to create the pain and suffering of an entire world onto into the minds of others to perpetuate the hate the love the hate the mis-read feelings the confusion the desire the greed the love and back to hate? What is the reason for thought?
How is it that humans can kill and mame and want and lust and kill and create a language to thus describe the killing the wanting the maming the killing so as to not only act but describe, write, record the very hate that fills? How can this be possible, this darkness this darkness this darkness? How can one describe this disgusting fact - the Facts of Life - without a chuckle a grin as if telling a joke, because oh what a good one you've told there. How can one not cry and sob and break down in anger in hopeless despair to even think about it.
Where is the love they like to write about in between the darkened pages. Where is the consolation prize the appetizer the sorbet upon my palet the seaweed snack? Where does anyone think we're going with these acts of hatred this disgusting nature this nature this nature this black and horrid nature we push away as we embrace it with open arms our animal animal animalistic nature this from our mother our mother of nature Mother Nature.
When does it end?
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the guys: philogynist jaime tony - the gals:raymi raspil
