FUCKING IRONY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

We trudge on because the only alternative is crawling and our knees are already torn and bloody.


Ugh…I’ve been out wandering in the wild for weeks, pursing all those heavily pondered questions: life, death and the shebanging betwixt? Every time I think I have an answer, I learn that I am wrong. Started with Jesus worship, went on to literary and artistic figure worship, Buddhist worship, woman worship and lots of various etcetera’s. . .

Irony? The answers you want the most will never come. You can pretend they have been answered, but that is hardly answering them.

Another irony? I tell myself that I live in the absence of the sacred, yet I still take any old chaotically shaped tree limb and just automatically start carving crosses. Self-help books used to get me, before I realized that humans who say they have answers for the great mysteries are liars.

Sad Ass Fact: Every time I think I know who I am, I act like someone else.

Once I knew I was a worshipper in some jolly fable of eternal life and all that wino mumblings jazz; bowed on my knees and raised my hands to the skies and cried out, I did… euphemistically, I mean, because I was always slightly embarrassed about the whole god thing; I communicated with it silently, pathetically, supersticiously, muttering fine words of praise that somehow always ensconced a query for the big guy about giving me something for free. I even prayed for shit like winning the lottery. Oh, sure…

I was like some street corner crazy screaming curses at mental phantoms.


In the absence of a delightful tale of deities dancing, I bid you a day where Siberian huskies are swimming in every snow drift….



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