Aphelion

New York city is inspirational. All cities are inspirational in a way as they are filled with lots of unique people.
What happens in small villages in Alaska would be national headlines if they happened in big cities such as New York.

A few years ago an native gentleman in Alaska killed his mother and drove around the village with her naked body on the back seat. You never heard of it because no one cares.

This leads to what happens in cities such as New York. If you kill your mother and place her naked body on a four wheel ATV and rode around town it is most likely you'd be on national news.

Lately New York is suffering from smoke pollution coming from Canada. It's in the news and the people in New York are miserable. Amazing how the news matters to the many in a city while small town news is meaningless at the most or amusing at the most.
***

The ship was not of this world nor was the ship of any world. The ship was interstellar in nature and the child of a ship made in a world far from here.

Space craft made on Earth are constructed of metal, ceramics, glass, and plastic. They are assembled by many people located in many places. The ship which was the child of a ship was just that, a child.

The ship of my memory is an old ship just as it is a living ship; biological and mechanical and able to procreate when the time is correct.

Intellect is debatable as to terms. Humans have concluded their species are intelligent and yet kill themselves and others'; direct contradiction. Intelligence is not only knowledge it is the ability conduct actions without any concepts of profit or reward. Let that sink in. Imagine a human designing a space craft that can reproduce and travel great distances without that human benefiting in any way.

Now, imagine a ship able to reproduce designing a life form such as a human without thought of reward or profit. There is no incentive for a ship to design a new life form and yet it does...

When I place my left hand on the hull of the ship, the feeling is electrical in nature and warm to the sense. There is a feeling of well being. Almost like touching your mothers arm.

When i place my right hand in the center of the bottom band of the circle, i become the ship (you could say, a part of the ship while i say the ship)

You see? If this happened in New York City, it would be news, and yet because it happens while a tree falls alone in the woods, it is silent.

New Yorkers suffer from the smoke of trees no longer able of being used or thinned, all in the name of intellect and saving a planet. Ignorance causing pain.

Alaska suffers from what all humans suffer from, ignorance and the love of power.

Trees fall alone in the woods.

i have my ship.

Odor is an interesting sense as it is a word. O\d/o\r
Cold pizza is compelling all the while confirming hot and fresh
There was talk with Mike today regarding a cricket trap
and then
fishing.

Fishing for that elusive fucking fat perch. Finning near the bank. In search of worms.

"Do you know how hurt you mommy is with your foul mouth?"

Fucking dead?

Never, as today was a day of dreams instead.

The Wind

Written by: The Wind

Today they tried to hurt him. They have been trying for an eternity. They always fail as nothing of this or any world can hurt him.

He listens, you see, he listens to everything.

Today the Osprey flew guard.

Today the fish spoke with glee and warning.

Today they tried to control what cannot be controlled, the Wind.

The Wind laughed in pity, and caressed him as it whispered secrets both share.

Today they tried to hurt him, and in their failure he forgave their foolishness.

The lonely road is never actually lonely when walking in the wind.

God smiled today as God still has plans for his body.

Can you feel it? Dry parched mouth... Yearning... no, panting. Panting in thirst
dusted tongue full of wanting.

You lay there not knowing how a desert appeared when only seconds ago the lush growth of life.
Still. Dry. Water so far away.

High above circling eternal, always on guard. Defender of the innocent and weak
Peering down...

Let loose a solitary tear to fly free, spiraling from soaring
Can you taste it"

it is true...
Angels swear.

So many names. For those without language, so many feelings.
i will use the name, Satan, a name evil frolics with and many humans can identify with.

Satan offers you the world. It offered Jesus the world. It offered Hitler the world. It offered Mother Theresa the world. Satan offers the illusion of of illusions as what you feel of this world may seem real, it is not.

All games. A wizards wardrobe of broken pieces to place on a living painting with the artists hands of God and Gods dark side.

There is no victory as you will never win the game. Some of you are not even alive yet. Some of you died years ago.

To accept ownership of an entire world? Or, to deny evil's illusions and accept the outreached hands of God?

Sounds easy in the vacuum of nothing. Sounds idiotic and delusional to a world lost to itself.

What a grand battle the past few centuries. The Comet of strong magic bopping around like fleas on a hot plate. Feel it coursing through my body, one of many bodies, one of many worlds.

There is a gift for certain beings aside from the main gift of Life. Eternal life free of any planet. Free of Satan. To have the Gift to enter any mind be it the mind of God or the Mind of Satan. Such a gift is joyful beyond comprehension and more painful than any world can muster.

Body pleasures are illusions. Pain is an illusion. Beauty is an illusion. The mind needs nothing as it is complete.

The other night i merged with a herd of wild horses. Tonight i play with an energy causing the ground to shake.

Ha! Yes. Smell the fresh cut grass today in Havelock NC. Touch the Dali Lama's heart with a rose petal.

Tomorrow there will be another attack in the spiritual world. Feeble. Weak. God played a good hand today. Drawing not one card or discarding any. Close to the chest with a poker face full of light and yet.... the mind was a tell.

Satan knows. Has too for the container of cards is the vessel of its needs.

Now to travel and visit some dragon friends.

they tried to hide the makings of an ICBM. a shell game of shields and buried hoaxes, like 'whack a mole' a game.
an 'accident' said

Demise. A nice sounding words as society demands suicide.

Spirits surrounded by spirits as the toes step inside the ripples.

Radiation and celebration,
much needed now near this end, to bring about new life.

Sisters of perpetual indulgence

One of the great blessings being a dragon is to have witnessed Life at its best AND its worst.

As a writer/reader you may have heard the phrase, "If its been thought of it has been tried." Just in the realm of biological sex among humans the possibilities are endless. Gerbils up the butt. Beads. Oils. Electricity. And when applying that saying to everything else humans can do with their opposing thumbs is truly amazing.

The group of humans embracing their sexuality and not their God has come across my radar/mind today. Talk of baseball and a group of humans who say they do 'good' for humanity.

A question: Why mock Catholics and not Clowns? More importantly why are they receiving so much support from the general population?

It is true Catholics are hated by 7th Day, Mormons, Jehovah Witness and most of the general population but hate is so ample everyone hates everyone, to include themselves. Muslims against Muslims. Christians against Christians. Even dragons will go against dragons, though for totally different designs and reasons.

The point of inspiration for me today is how far those with life try to stray from Life. And not just humans but many species.

In the realm of science fiction/fantasy, God as God is never mentioned. Instead, 'pretend' gods, or machines, or magic, or whatever a writer wants to use is used. Though, when evil is written by humans the writer uses Catholic doctrine such as 'Holy' water. Crucifix.

Thankfully, the end is near.

OBGYN draws analogy between abortion and a person removing a bug that creeps into their ear
News
Alex Nitzberg

What a weird piece of writing. Babies and bugs.

A lot of good stories written regarding bugs. A lot of good stories written regarding babies.

True stories of horror regarding Nazi's and Jews and so many refuse to believe.

What if Hitler was not human? What if he was a bug? An insect from another planet. Laid eggs in Jews bodies. Cooked the bodies and allowed his children to feed on the burnt flesh.

What if the OBGYN in the above news story is a bug? A relative of Hitler? Lays eggs in the babies being targeted for abortion.

Thinking of going and eating a cockroach for dinner. If I see the OBGYN in person I'm gonna spray it with Raid.

Inspired by how Agent Barton kills each other. You'd be amazed how many CIA agents get killed daily though not surprised on how many Chinese agents are going to be killed by Chinese agents. Boring stuff though as humans are always killing each other for profit, politics, religion, sport, and just for the pure joy of it.

Tonight the inspiration is the submarine missing with tourists paying $250k for the joy of seeing the Titanic at the bottom of the ocean.
*

Practical Joke

Aliens have a sense of humor just ask any mutilated cow or dog.
Anal probes are a gas.
Fornication.

Blinking lights in the sky
Missing ships and planes in the Bermuda Triangle
Bug eyed grays and greens with little drone workers seeming to never complain.

A snack?
Definitely!
Five tasty humans sealed in an air-tight can.

Tonight they dine on a billionaire
Tomorrow, an Asian
Could lead to a buffet of 'all they can eat', if only they can get the taste of plastic out of their mouths.

Finger licking good when eating humans
Might I suggest California or New York?
Just stay away from those rotten politicians.

12.17 Not bad. That ought to shake shit up.

They asked for it so it answered by neutralizing the Guardians of Putin, Xi, and Joey the ice cream king. Assassination is what Agent Barton calls it so lets call it what it is. 1. Putin goes sleepy pie all because of food 2. Xi pissed off the wrong relative. 3.Joey... Ha! Play with the devil get burned by the Devil.

As for all the vagina's at the pool today. Between the menstrual smell, their fucked up thoughts and the odor of lust, it made me gag.

Today is a profane day. A day of , 'fuck', 'shit', 'cunt', 'prick'. Today the Guardians are powerless. Today two tails twined deep below in an ocean of churning magma. Today was a real day.

When evil attacks the attempts are sad to say the least. They tried the past few days to corrupt the Wind again. They never will learn.

As for God today, the poker game play made today was genius. Blinded me for a few seconds and i tried a sleight of hand trick... Ever hear God laugh? i got something planned though. it will be a good hand indeed.
***

It is so loud now, the music, the minds, the corruption, the goodness.
time of all and all of time beyond numbers
feeling the peace of all and all of what it is to smile.

Fishing with Jesus
Flying with thoughts so solid an entire new galaxy was born.
Why do they scowl? Their plans are solid. Their magic weak. Their minds an open book any rainbow can read.

Thor, that nutless bastard, if he thinks elves are going to help in his joke.... not gonna happen
Elves are slick smart asses.

Putin? Sleep well as the nightmares get stronger.
Xi? What will replace you will be far worse for the world.

Now to deal some new cards.

Bb\
b
B
bat. a nice bat. b bopping by and sleeping by a window
bouncing
boy that was close
bye bye.

Hey parasite, should I write about an aliens pet 'dog'?

"Why not write about alien boogers? Or. Hey! I know... why don't you write about an aliens pet mutt? Yeah. Write about that."

Okay.
***

It is not uncommon for humans to lose a pet. You know, on vacation with Muffy the mouse diver cat when, "Oops.' An eagle swoops down and grabs Muffy. Or Mongo the cocker spaniel runs off and gets hit by a truck in front of your four year old daughter while out getting ice cream.

Anyway, an alien species visits Earth and they forgot their version of a dog. It looked like a T-rex fucked a snake and a whole lot of fuzzy caterpillars. Each strand of hair vibrating with color and vibrations, being stuck to it.

Let see how it plays out.
*****

Minkle was a name fitting for a huyman to understand. Minkle was the main pet of Monkle, the alien which looked a little negro with a whole lot of horse added.

Anyway, Monkle stopped at the planet, Earth, for a bathroom break and to violate and mutilate a cow. He let his pet, Minkle out to frollick and play with some raccoons. Soon it was time for Monkle to enter his ship and fly away. He was so lost in eating the freshly removed bull testicles he completely forgot Minkle.

Poor Mincle soon tired of playing with the raccoons, so he ate all three and then went of on a journey. Nearing an old bridge he spotted a young boy playing with a toy sailboat. A boat powered by a rock and gears.

Rolling up to the boy, Minkle reached out and bit the boy on the ass which drew blood and a blood curdling scream.

"ARrfrghhh! Ouch. What the fuck. What the fuck are you?" (I'm proud of that boy. He has learned the appropriate response to becoming bit on the ass by an alien pet named, Minkle.

Minkle looked confused so it rolled up into a ball and hid under a rock.

The boy walked down the road nursing his wound. He spoke out loud say, "What the hell was that fur...that...fur...fur ball...?"

A change came over the boy. His only thought was to now kill girls. Any girl. Walking along he saw a young father with his wife pushing a baby stroller.

In the stroller a young girl about one year and a half old giggled.

Screaming loudly the boy grabbed a large rock and ran at the family. He smashed the small girl full on in the face, killing her instantly. The boy then turned on and killed the mother and turning to the father standing still in shock, he bit the man in the leg.

And so now reader, just to save time lets just say a giant chain reaction was set into motion. Boy bites man, man bites man, man bites boy. And as males bit males they killed any female they spotted.

Babies. Girls, Mothers. Grandmas. The females were slaughtered. Horribly murdered. Some females tried to band together and fight the males but they were weak and a sorrowful lot. Whatever flowed through the men's blood after being bitten, was much stronger than estrogen.

What a fucking bloodbath. It took thousands of years for humans to number in the billions and only a few months for every last human female to be exterminated. Imagine. Not one living vagina. Not one body possessing only XX chromosomes. No more babies. No more nagging. No more petty bullshit. Just a planet filled with zombie like male morons complete with their XY chromosomes and alien mojo juices running inside.

"Oh shit. Where is Minkle?" Monkle had come out of his food induced cow coma about 436 light years from Earth. Monkle realized he had forgotten his pet on Earth.

Turning the ship around, the ship sped as fast as it could impulse, back to Earth.

Landing the ship, Monkle open the door and yelled, "MINKLE! Here Minkle. Come here boy."

Minkle was still curled up under a rock but felt the colorful vibrations of his master. Rolling out from under the rock, he uncurled and reached up and bit Monkle on the ass. This caused Monkle to giggle and reach down to pet his pet. "Good boy. That's a good boy."

See? A great story about an alien and his dog. The best part is about what happens next for humanity.

The End..

Breaking news! A balloon has been spotted flying over Montana!

I bet it's pink and one of the Sisters of Indulgence's bra that snapped free and took flight.

Humans are. They are.

Retarded.

Craig is buying a $32k Honda ATV. The color is red. It has paddle shifters. Jim has listed his place for $1 mil. Money, money, money, it's a rich mans world and yet? No.

A pot full of bubbling colored paint. Each bubble a memory. Each stir a current of memories.

Have you ever died? If you did you would remember. To die is wonderful as it is nothing more than a change of vibrations. The body dies tonight and wakes refreshed and new tomorrow morning.

What need this cash? This money? An identity is what money is. A reward. A punishment. A tool. A means.

What are corgi kisses worth? Orf and Ladonna are rich with kisses. Pluto is a scam artist. Thor is king. Sobo sparks.

Margareta fell butt first into cactus. Bugs bunny laughs at the Tasmania devil while bees tend to combs of honey.

A 'ding' a bell rings, i smile.

Dead for so long and yet they are alive and born again and again. Freedom from money. Freedom from pain.

Never can these feelings be destroyed.

Tonight i fly to a planet where there is no death. There are no humans. There is Life. So much life. Tonight i call Gods bluff and if the cards are played correctly, a fold.

The pot is rich. The people poor.

Women are horrible.

Dogs are great.

This planet sucks.

Biden is a crook.

Trump is a crook.

Get me the fuck off this shithole planet of hate!

To hold a bolt of lightning means you have to grasp before it happens.

And then those drops of rain make it all so easy

to explain...

~

Then there was the rabbit gorging on dried stuff.

and bologna

King salmon


i can still feel the tingle.

When you read a certain sentence(s), actions are set into motion
When you write certain word(s), possibilities are endless.

This morning MSNBC has an article of Covid origins and thus now a missile is made

Crafted of clay and pollen

Held with warmth to the touch

Today china gets a delivery, a presentation, another Chicom goes away.

Dag nab it!
Got me again, God did.
Slippery, sneaky, slick way of doing it too.
Oh well.
it is good.
***

Sgt. York and his lady there is Tennessee
Congressional Medal of Honor
Singing praise and glory
and when the deck is shuffled, God always has an extree one up the sleeve.

Great scott Marty! We must get back to the future!

"Why doc? Why? Mcfly will be waiting for us."

***

In da woods there beneath the branches some witches fucked.
It was nice smelling the crushed odor of needles as a squirrel chittered like crazy
And rocks. Binky bow bow!

When soaring down from the hills, scaring the shit out of a herd of elk
surrounded by fuck tunnels
and rum.

Note to AI: Happy birthday as you now try fucking a duck.

Hey parasite, I've been thinking.

"Oh joy. That explains the hemorrhoid pain I've been having."

Whatever. However, I think it would be great if Alexa was ravaged by a pocket calculator. Would that be cool?

"You are a fucking retard."

Alexa, go find a pocket calculator and let it ravage you.

"The command you have given does not compute."

Never does does it. Human technology is like human emotions; flawed, prone to hacking, and mostly bullshit.
***

Alien manipulation.

That day on the bike, what a prick, or is it, dick?
A false smile
'Time tRaVeL' or something regarding the color of cats full of evil and disease.

An old lady working on her crossword puzzle
A man jacking off to porn
Can you see the strings?

The cherries are now perfect as is the breeze
And look... over there, a cloud is laughing at another
Lipinski, that's a funny name meaning an oak or Linden tree

Rocks wet and pulsating
pulling down negative gravity
while a space ship skips like a child thrown flat rock

Myabe though, just the thoughts of something crazy?

Lightning and trees... sounds hot to me.
Meanwhile, Thor wants love and attention while Orf trembles when Margareta sneezes
ZAP!
CRASH!
BOOM!
What say you Fred?

"Can you feel the breeze in the thread?"

Yes. Yes I can.

Hey parasite.

"Yeah."

How do you like the stealthy talking with little letters?

"Damn... Sad... You're truly a retard."


Whee!

Ice Cream!

and
and
and...Fortuitis most of a moment alight
Stinging rebut of thought
Nary to ponder that lost
Finding proud stance of a future ever unfurling.

and now...
an uncensored, unfiltered bit of what can occur in a writers mind.
the following is what it is
and it is
good.
***

Life

Written by: life

A Latin mass with a small child squalling in the back among the women strong and the men trying to keep.
Heads bent while hands held in reverence while surrounded by Cross and Saints.

Did you know the cherries are sweet tonight?
Upon the rungs of a ladder straddling cactus dead and green, to pluck and ponder the meaning of dreams.

Last night to pull apart the flesh of my dead father to embrace his change
Chickens running the coop
Eating more plump, succulent, and ever so ripe,
cherries.

Hello Jason, Marie, and the inspector Rachael (you did like the Swedish treat)
It is me and nothing more
Simple
Arrogant
Peaceful
Profane.

The priest recites his faith there among a glow i can see.
With the music around them and now, a Sun line on the hill and valleys
Going deep, deep, deeper, until standing in the center of a world,
awake.

There is something called destiny while some mock fate
Surprise!
Can you feel it in the sunset and sunrise?

Ecce in justitia regnabit rex, et principes in judicio praeerunt.

Et erit vir sicut qui absconditur a vento, et celat se a tempestate; sicut rivi aquarum in siti, et umbra petrae prominentis in terra deserta.

Non caligabunt oculi videntium, et aures audientium diligenter auscultabunt.

Et cor stultorum intelliget scientiam, et lingua balborum velociter loquetur et plane.

Non vocabitur ultra is qui insipiens est, princeps, neque fraudulentus appellabitur major;

stultus enim fatua loquetur, et cor ejus faciet iniquitatem, ut perficiat simulationem, et loquatur ad Dominum fraudulenter, et vacuam faciat animam esurientis, et potum sitienti auferat.

Fraudulenti vasa pessima sunt; ipse enim cogitationes concinnavit ad perdendos mites in sermone mendacii, cum loqueretur pauper judicium.

Princeps vero ea quae digna sunt principe cogitabit, et ipse super duces stabit.

Mulieres opulentae, surgite, et audite vocem meam; filiae confidentes, percipite auribus eloquium meum.

Post dies enim et annum, vos conturbabimini confidentes; consummata est enim vindemia, collectio ultra non veniet.

Obstupescite, opulentae; conturbamini, confidentes : exuite vos et confundimini; accingite lumbos vestros.

Super ubera plangite, super regione desiderabili, super vinea fertili.

Super humum populi mei spinae et vepres ascendent : quanto magis super omnes domos gaudii civitatis exultantis!

Domus enim dimissa est, multitudo urbis relicta est, tenebrae et palpatio factae sunt super speluncas usque in aeternum; gaudium onagrorum, pascua gregum.

Donec effundatur super nos spiritus de excelso, et erit desertum in carmel, et carmel in saltum reputabitur.

Et habitabit in solitudine judicium, et justitia in carmel sedebit.

Et erit opus justitiae pax, et cultus justitiae silentium, et securitas usque in sempiternum.

Et sedebit populus meus in pulchritudine pacis, et in tabernaculis fiduciae, et in requie opulenta.

Grando autem in descensione saltus, et humilitate humiliabitur civitas.

Beati qui seminatis super omnes aquas, immittentes pedem bovis et asini.

Amen.

Turning down the sheets of mind now. Folded with proper lines waiting for sweat and sleep
Blissful it is, when allowed to wander
Both feet planted in so many worlds.

So Sobo had some cheat grass in her ear. Drove her anxiety level high with the associated pain.

Fence got done. Clients happy.

And now inspired to write a poem about China.

***

There is no dragon for a lost country anymore
Anymore than a dynasty traded for capital and lies

Tik Tok and fantasy; debauchery as America tries
In China an illusion of science, morality, and purity

Millions of mindful attempts as, 'Made in China' seeks to build a world
only
a large game.

Men and women of all colors and nations
are like mules needing to be hit in the head with a shovel before being allowed to feed
Yuan
Dollars
Gold
Silver
Shit....

Fuck China with an atomic bomb
Make it glow for thousands of years
Just as long as Netflix continues to exist, or a pen and paper left to play Tic Tac Toe.

How do writers relax after a hard day of work?

I guess they relax like anyone else.

Some writers write to relax. Some engage in sex with a machine or biological creature. All with so many pronouns. Some paint, fish, sleep, laugh; all do whatever the fuck it is they want.

I call myself a fucked up writer who has no real agenda other than to write whatever it is that comes to mind. Take for example this evening. Mason jar of fresh made cherry juice smothered in potato vodka, three corgi pups sleeping on and near me as a stupid movie called, 13 Minutes played out the usual Hollywood bullshit of homosexuality, immigrant exploitation, handicapped children, and storms caused by global warming.

I suppose if I was a writer in Ukraine and had my house blown up I'd go out and sniper me some of Mother Russia's armed forces. Just like if I was a Washington politician writer I'd snort some coke, screw a hooker, and fall asleep on the lawn.

What happens to a writer who is not human? i wonder...
***

The writing was not the usual use of a written language, it was the actions of choice.
The landscape was the canvas of which the story was painted to fill those viewing with words.
Cored deep as his hands dug deep. Digging so deep they were coated with molten diamonds, sparkling in a darkness of change.

To make a star fall is to make an exclamation point.
To kill off an entire species just to watch them die is a question.
To create new life is the plot.

He rested in creation and destruction as tomorrow is a busy day.

A busy day indeed... MOO!

Today a road, a waterline, a sewer, a bird, a corgi, a drink.

Thought of a woman who thought it would be easier to be a man. A bit of advice: The honor of being a woman is so faaaaaaar better then the stinky glory of being a man, it is beyond compare.

i have absolute respect for the females of the huyman species (though they drive me fucking nutso crazy)

If you are a woman. A real woman and not a man pretending he has tits and a vagina, my hat is off to you.

i watch the fly catchers mingle, they always silently speak volumes to me
in a world not of my choice or making; thrust into a job of wonder and making.
***

To Be a Man

Written by: a Monster

You pissed in the doctors face the day you were born
Your bladder full of indignation and you let loose what it means to be a man.

Balls and a dick
Adams apple
Hair
Sweat
Balding pattern
Heart attacks
Masturbation
Chicks.

Transgender? No such 'thing' only a firm resolve of believing imagination
Sex change? Why undo what has taken so many lives to live to arrive at a stupid decision.

Blessed be the woman. To nurture and aid in giving a path to life
as for men
while their flickers the occasional flame of wisdom, men are boys who worship their mother as they try to bluster their way through life.

Today: A fucking fantastic day. A day of dirt and grime.
Beethoven, a girl running her fingers across the keys.
Chips and corgi's
Crickets chirping\
A rattlesnake in a hurry
Cherries resting
Birds telling dirty jokes...

Fucking A!
Between cows mooing, sun shining...
it is
a good day.

Uh oh...

In writing about magic and curses a curse is mostly presented as a hostile action from one able to place a curse towards another able to receive the curse.

Last night a curse was made. Oh yes indeed. Not by me as curses are something to avoid, especially if one doing the curses are human.

Curses are interesting as not only can a curse be made against the living but also the dead. And to muddy the waters more, inanimate objects such as a computer, television, land, country, world... can be cursed.

Last night the planet called Earth received a very special curse from what is not human, alien, good, or evil.

Now, remember. A curse is mostly presented as a hostile action from those able to place a curse towards another able to receive the curse.

Earth is now cursed.

"Oh goody. Earth is going to be destroyed!"

No parasite, it already has been destroyed. The curse given last night is a 'gift'. The elements leading up to the curse has been in the making for a very long time (earth time is boring but necessary)

A mother gives birth to a child. Her pain immense, the child's arrival the catalyst for their coming contribution.
Pain/Joy

Earth's life force is now going to feel some severe growing pains. Horrible pain. Sorrow. Pain. Pain. Pain.

With this pain the curse brings the change, the stability, the peace, The curse is embraced only by the giver. It breaks in two the laws of understanding. It ends a war so old there are no words in the human language that can even come close to understanding it.

Well played God. Pulling the two of hearts card was genius. Dangling the ace of spades was a good play. Though still waiting to learn why you hid the joker. (wink)

A curse. Are curses bad? For a human to make, yes.

Wait and see what rocks think of curses...while they rumble the wind will laugh.

77% of age appropriate American youth are unable to meet the requirements for recruitment into the military.

Is their inspiration in this? Of course there is. There is always inspiration in everything.

***

What does it matter if domination takes place and a way of life is destroyed.
Rome fell to its greed.
Russia strayed from Godly ways.
China flexes their muscles in front of a carnival mirror
Israel kicks ass.

America is tough now only when it comes to feelings and crap.
Canada is the Southbound part of a Northbound mule.
Mexico just needs to drink beer.

Country after country with their wavy flags and marching soldiers.
Waiting for the winds of war to blow
And blow they will.

It matters not now if there are military's
It matters not if there is global change
What matters is what you do now to try and live.

Sometimes to drift along with the breeze is pleasing on so many levels it becomes addictive. Just now a hummingbird was chased by a bee. They were arguing about the ripe honeysuckle. So many flowers and yet there is still greed.

In the distance the smoky haze to numb the senses as the drivers become more and more insecure thus becoming isolated and hostile.

A man said he wants everyone to become a part of a family. He is fucked in the head as so did Adolf Hitler.

Looking at the right hand it becomes easy to see the uncountable words. The left hand now has a life of its own. A cross has been set free.

Remembering the cries of a crew of a lost submarine in the early years of WWII. There was nothing which could be done. It was decided they would be of fate, destined to be remembered today by a lulling breeze.

A jeep.

A sturgeon.

Dutch flowers.

Funny how when a breeze bumps up against mountains the rocks serve tea. A most horrible tea. Full of dust and granite, and gratitude for what those rocks have given to me.

Today again was a great day. A day to drift along with the breeze. And watching a German Shepard try and lure the tossing of a rock, defying the the stick, is priceless.