there i go and here i am, my strange life, flawed by authority and reaching some kind of critical mass, how far can i take it, how far can i go, yet all the time all i really want is peace, love and happiness.  yeah a little tension is good for creative juices, a little colour for the drama, some hysterical soap opera plays out behind me, eating into sleep and the usual tranquility i inhabit. all i want to do is be free. yeah free, like those deadwood frontier town types, getting away from the the big city suits, rules and regulations, that invisible arm that's always telling you to do this or that, some people wear their uniform with pride, some wave their freak flag high, what can you do, be who you are.
morning comes and i'm with a criminal mastermind, my de facto lawyer, even hunter s. thompson had a samoan lawyer when he travelled through the fear and loathing. i'm lucky, i have miss cupcake, she's got the legal mind that gets me out of the box like a get out of jail card plus she looks great in pjs which i think gives me an advantage over hunter. i sit at her place over looking the beach, shooting a water pistol with a silencer at passing police officers and very bizarre cat that belongs in a steven king short story. the roar of waves down below, a little taste of salty air, the smell of spring, lavender, jasmine, bougainvillea and coffee as the skin is tantalized by that sunlight that travelled across space just to warm me, a baby makes a babbling sound, smiling and laughing with the kind infectious joy they have and all the bullshit rules and regulations, all authorities control and power, all the old angry men in uniforms and their young  brainwashed acolytes straight out of the dumbed down skool of putting things in boxes or jail, you can't touch me today.