Oh no,
another wave of stupidity slammed into me.
Yes, slammed, that'll do.
Stupidity shot teeth through its cheeks in stubborn skeletal growth, wrapped tendrils around the dregs of arbitrary lucidity, grimy cornea surplus tumbled out of a dumpster, is that enough imagery for you?
No, I'll never transmit enough imagery for your mind's rods and cones, never enough to dig myself out of this metaphysical hole. But hey, the hole is home. I've been rotting away here for years, liferot, the chlorophyll rusted, red veins sunk into the mountain. They looked like the wrists of crone chronics from the struldbrugian life extension program, four years in a nursing home and we're on this side of the duality, the royal we, the limousine liberal hazing through an opening on opiate pills, glossing over the details, seeing a slick, rain-painted asphalt, pure in this frame, poetic image possibility number nine-hundred and forty-three.
Clichés leached out with isopropyl alcohol but the residue is substance abuse. Use for the cerebral popinjays with the cranial fortitude to keep chugging on, testosterone pumping, lumping the bright spikes of nuance like me and my struldbrug future into lilliputian nuisance litter to be punted right into the end of the dichotomy. The post-Trotsky pundit, good credit, eyes screwed in, ears filtering filtering filtering, helped himself, created a reality, gated a reality, no entry, no solicitors.
9/20/05
Waves of Stupidity
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