early morning the hound and i are wandering around on the ocean front, it's cold and wet and i look like a demon scarecrow on the wrong side of the styx as the dark overcoat wraps around me and the strange hat flops in the wind, these are ominous times my friend, the future is running out. no more chances for this version of humanity, you had it all and squandered it on drilling the oil from the beating heart of the sustainer instead of using the sunlight, the wind, the kinetic motion and the geo thermal energy, you cruelly slaughtered buffalo, chicken and sheep for your burgers and plundered the land sucking it's nutrients, raping the surface with constructs and hubris but worst of all you severed the esoteric root and for that you have been cast adrift, alone, abandoned, just like me you will suffer the desperation of loss, you will attempt to fill an abyss as the void comes and engulfs you, you will see desire slip away and the truth revealed, you will will pass through the eye of the needle, rich man poor man beggar man thief, saints and sinners, fighters and lovers, all equally redistributed through the ultimate brokerage service.
two years and i want to spend it with you, so we can stand here, where i am now, hold hands and surrender to rebirth and the end of fear.
i watch my breath leaving and feel the cold air as it enters my lungs, we wander towards the coffee shop where the sicilian lady makes me the perfect coffee. i like the world of sensation, i'm a sucker for the pleasure principle but i am aware of being detached from it, there's a certain mental yoga one needs to stay alive and it is ironic, i mean after all why be attached to being alive, but the path of the truth seeker is one of paradox, until you get the cosmic joke, then you can relax and laugh with it.
that's the best way to die. the plant spirits have shown me clear as day, my death waits so patiently, like an old druid, my epitaph
captain mission
came into the world crying
went out laughing