2004-05-03 - 6:39 p.m.
The mystery of a malevolent market place. Once when Diogenes entered a rich house the owner didn�t want stranger�s spittle anywhere clean. Diogenes, cynic that he was, spit on the rich owner�s face saying �Sorry, It was the only place I could find that was dirty.� Diogenes was a Socrates gone mad. One time Diogenes was captured and sold into slavery. On the auction block when victimized by questions such as �What do you know how to do?� He replied with his signature sarcasm �Command? adding �Who here needs a master?� Existence alternates with both supreme and understated achievements and the alternate worlds eventually reach a point where little to nothing can be assumed or those so called individual worries. Not to mention (2x) justice (has been ) chased pheasant that lies within the fenestration. Honesty is unfortunate creed taken to it�s next logical level or buyouts that take place honestly in the middle of just another Autumn week and the anonymous voices serve to pay for likeable incomes quickly become transported by such indispensable interstitial processes Nothing so mysterious about it really but seriously, lots of little perks and the Oceans that once waited for earned (there will be time for diacritics) whale marrow now sponsored by the lure of a Czar find that therein lies a type of take-off inner dialogue. Mother must feed her baby and the thinker must feed his thoughts though they, despite any merits, still belong to the species whose senses are incapacitated by things like language. There is no way to attempt to stop the dissimilarity and the disparity of what has forever been spoken/cycle. In that anti-universal state of such a secure tongue there was no taking credit. I (dry river) say there was a hard reluctance to spurn credit in the well lit. flavor of a sad stay sob stormy even after the lightly calibrated senses were called. There is no repetition and there are no death squads. There is only pure joy individually felt. Perfidy overtakes every sentence. Tongue, excellent balm that she always be, always loosens up a few of the screws that still pretend to do things like see. The bad part about the reabsorption of hydra is that once it has evaporated praise and criticism are no longer moving experiences. Where there are names, no mysteries abound. Can�t you see the villains or are they maybe carefully hidden? Harnessing the fatal flaws of useful incorporated energy remain lost to the isolated body. Somatic experience sole w(age) earner of jouissance and jet fuel, allow hyper-aware, Socratic irony loves to escape from static tarmac grounded insights. Oedipus Rex gouged out his eyes. Go logic. Go Military. Ahhhhhrrrrrrr.
