We’re all just racing time 


It hasn’t been that long, I’ve already removed you omnipresent watchful eye and it makes me cry thinking I could ever forget the nearness of you and all I really want to do the older I get is to slow down time or convert it so the moments that are dreck, standing in line at the DMV actually don’t take long at all and the moments you wish you could get back laughing with your father the only times you remember are the ones that come in knocking and you just feel that he shouldn’t be gone, not yet.
But that is becoming more common these days, with our “age bracket” not doing that well on the good run, no passings away into an infinity where no one knows what happens for sure but they fight wars and kill young men of all creeds and colors in the name of certainty that whatever it is we are fighting for is what my infinite beyond special imaginary friend really wants.
The cacophony is deafening in the end. You can only process so much before you choke on the bullshit. The weak ones will take delight in their temporal power. But you don’t know yet that you know better. But to what end? To have all your files alphabetized? She sure did lead an organized filing system life. As if that were the revised version then that accolade alone would make it all better.
I can say whatever I want. No one is listening anyway.

The artist editor shape shifter relationship is gone. While we were mourning the moving along of the old ways, before we even understood them👒 ah yes things happen so much faster now. Or do they🛁? The drunk chick in Garage Pizza was still sloppy drunk in smellivision slo-mo pretty blonde freakazoid mode. Was I ever that – loud? Yes. Obnoxious? Most certainly. With such little cause? Nah. Everything hard-won around here.
  I’m wrapping up this unfocused diatribe because come in Irene is playing on iTunes and it annoys the shit out of me, Hemingway.

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