MOG

There are times in life when the possibilities seem immense. We call these the days of youth. And from what Im able to see right now were doing pretty well. Sitting in the top sliver of wealth during the most ridiculous empire in world history. In fact, Im not even writing this with a pen. Im typing it on one of those fancy laptops that sprung out of the technology boom of the late 1990s. Go mac. So here I come dancing down one of those streets. Ive lost consciousness. What a sight. Drinkin vodka tonics by the dozen. Ive got Youth, Energy, nothing to lose in the World (were title casing the Nouns now). And the idea that the pen. The Pen, the pencil, whatever. That age old object, without the hyphen, can save the world. What a new fucking idea. People having been moving to the alps and starting sex colonies for almost 300 years.

But there is really nothing, nothing we can do. Love must be forgotten. Life can always start up anew.

We all think we can change the world. In some twisted sort of way, and behind that secret want to tear the throats from our competitors. Its fair to say were civil to the point of friendliness in the work place. But if that co-worker were nameless on the side of the road with a flat tire, how many of us would stop? None. Exactly. And I dont want to hear any stories about that time you stopped and picked up that one Hippie/Punk/Indie rocker, that one time. There are no apostrophes either cause that button dont work. Thats why Im sitting here with some leisure time before the holidays. Cause I stopped giving a shit at 17, Cause I dont pick up those drifters that come into my life.

No I dont regret a thing. If I did it wouldnt be the same.

Ive got no conscience but the pen and the pad, and even that isnt all the way baked. Should I start reading recovery books now or later? Anyway, Im all here and Happy Holidays.