Tags: humanifesto | life | ramblings

Don't talk about lobster, or how hot the sun's gonna get in a few years, because it's hella cool right now...

Why's this f*@k always talkin' about the weather, you ordinary readers might ask? Although raised on grub well-seasoned, we never truly have them. Don't tell the driver about how much better it was under the commies, or that paradise fruit lodged in his ear. Don't talk to them about your love life, they aren't interested, not available.

Those aren't really our love songs, they're just sung in English. If you're lost your cherry in the golden city, don't spit it into anyone's ear, you did it for yourself, right?We know how you saw the signs, how symbolic it all was, when you tried to stop smoking; drinking; smack; unsafe sex; breaking the law; taking taxis; working for the man; telling the same old stories; delivering lines; mistrusting the lovely people around you; your latent racism; eating at Mickey D's; giving a f*ck; or looking in the mirror.

The plucky drivers don't wanna hear about how you tried to quit either, their analyst's gave them these signs to show them how to empower themselves. They're immune to you, they've got problems of they're own to solve. You see red, you see your dad's naked lady pictures on the bathroom wall, you see an advertisement for tighter tummies on every television station, you see the future, it's red, a BIG secret.

They don't know Cabernets from Adam, but they may accept a Pilsner, no signs about that. If his bloodshot eyes trip you out, it's hardly worth mentioning, since you both know everything's cool as long as we stay on the tracks.

Everything could be so cool and it will be, as long as we stay well read and heal from where we've bled. Ambiguity is sweet like swimming, trimming the fat, she gives sweet relief. Beauty and solitude take just one bow. Silent commune in a city living and dying to get naked.

So does a boiled lobster sound good now? So what?

Settle here for a while and get used to some cow.