“Between incomprehensible and incoherent sits the madhouse. I am not in the madhouse.”
~ Jack Kerouac to Carl Solomon
A few years ago, when there was still hope, I traveled to the Stars, and returned renewed. Hope is overrated and, like the dream of a nightmare, the heart wants what the hands can never deliver; a good friend to have but not keep.
Living today is like a full body massage in a cement mixer. WTF on wheat toast?
The inhumane species has interbred to create a new and less subtle microorganism;
the embodiment of Corpus Possessionis wherein so long as the individual is in control of an object, to the exclusion of others, they possess it through the power of will.
I’m a bitch with nothing but time, even if it’s merely an irreversible, indefinite progression forwards. Welcome to the nonspatial continuum where events are measured as they succeed one another from the past through present into the future.
Inhumankind is an unconscionable collective who deserve Gone Fishing tattooed across their foreheads. Vacuity should not be the newest status symbol. Lacking intelligence is not only a state; it is becoming a nation.
Carry a Vade Mecum of Humility and Kindness as a reminder that beneath skin and muscles and veins is a skeletal structual that once it is stripped of flesh and pretense and arrogance is a grinning skull. For whom one exudes a lifetime of hatred; dispensing cruelty towards fellow homosaps, through words and deeds, after the end that gruesome smile is reserved for You for eternity…
Often attributable, sans a record to confirm, to Oscar Wilde:
“Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit but highest form of intelligence.”
Cherchez la femme.
The sagacity of this sardonic and caustic truism had to come from the mind of a woman; it’s too bonnie to imagine it was articulated by a man.
We shall meet again soon at the parallaxis.