In my mind, I see the tree in the far distance. And its leaves are mad scorpions spitting venom at the passers-by. I let my mind-warp until my bodies’s pixellation coalesces and I see the world for what it is. The crazies running like time-bombs crying “Treason! Treason!” While they see nothing but their own pain and their ultimate demise. There’s nothing funny about the rabbit working day-in-day-out for nothing but a fucking as back-pay. I’m here because I want to be, and I see the world I want to see. The less I know, the more I feel, and nothing is realer than a non-news reel. If it catches you, it won’t let go. So let it be said, so let it be sown, the truth won’t be found when you look for it. It’s accidents we conceive that birthed the knowledge we never sought. If I ever know a thing, it will be wrong the next time I look upon it, but it’ll still have been a building block of my new concept. My freedom is your choice. My revolution, your cause. If channelling Bill Burroughs is copy-writed, I’m fucked if I did, and an never-ending fool if I tried. The wars that we fight today are the demons that we create for the future. Never be surprised that the enemies you pop in the mouth now will try to kill you later; only act that way. I’m a never-ending copy-machine; I will do today what I did yesterday what I will do tomorrow. It is of little value to me, and all for your prophet. When I climb glass stairs, I am always afraid to fall through, but then I see the sunset out the window and forget I was always held up by my beliefs. If there is humour in death, someone making rockets is dying of hysterical laughter right now. If the truly criminal go unpunished in any way, does it not behove us to take justice into our own hands? Since we have elected people to dispense justice and enforce it, does this not make them complicit? I have a dream: That one day I will wake up. When I try to sleep, a million images come flowing before my eyes. I wish I had a camera in my mind. There are things I will never know that bug the shit out of me. A centipede is a wonderful thing, but a millipede is ten times better. I take every star in the sky as irrefutable proof that humanity is too egocentric to believe in intelligent life out there. Why this is so, I do not know. I am a lying bastard and you shouldn’t believe anything I say. Wait, that’s not true. It’s a shame that we can’t switch from oil to anxiety; I could probably power Canada.
