Numb and Number

I feel cut off from all emotion, all possibilities... numb to all but the awareness of that incapability- that numbness. If it is cold, I do not feel it... I only know the lack of feeling... and know that something once sacred is now lost, something holy, stained by evil.

I feel but a shadow of my former self.

Ahhhh I need to chill out...

I really hope I get this job tomorrow. I'm gonna be on my best. I'm gonna shower today and tomorrow, gonna get all the hard to reach spots on my neck, shave real nice... stretch and work out today and tomorrow and maybe even jog a little on my way over there.

I know I have committed many sins, done many misdeeds. But I am no darker than the judge in the courthouse, the politiciian that directs the flow of our money (and our lives), or the beggar on the corner with nary a tooth to smile. I am nothing, I am dust in an interminable wind that knows not mine entity nor mine sorrowful, serruptitious soul, which it whips worrilessly about with wanton wimsical wrecklessness.

Heh, I mean if ya gotta complain about shit ya might as well complain well, eh. Like Don Juan or Castaneda or whatever said- if tying your shoe is what gets you hit by the boulder, or what saves you from wandering into it's deadly path, the best you can do is tie your shoe pretty fuckin good.

Well, I'm getting into a funk. I like the flow but not the direction ya digg... time to switch streams~

Later potaters~