filth; a world of hurt

breathe in

been meaning to write something meaningful. i walk home from work with nothing but random thoughts running through my head. i look at the seemingly abandoned house on the corner of 8th and forever, sometimes a single light on in the corner window and wonder if the burden engine burns silently in that corner, calculating the fates of the last 300 worlds. i see the pinball machine shrouded in a rotting bedsheet on the porch of a mansion, the yard destitute compared to the houses that glisten in the sun with wealth and starshine on either side, and wonder what devilish mechanism put the fear in the owners to set the device outside to fight the elements.

so many ideas, so many opinions. so much.

then i see things like this



sickness. pure sickness. i felt dirty for having watched.

i cringed when i saw the kid snicker at the back of the crowd. i felt hopeless as people seemed to back away in the face of three semi-authoritative mall cops. sick sick sick.


breathe out


where are we going? i know that by far we can't run around and start throwing up 'police state' banners on the steps of every capitol, but it still makes me wonder if we are not headed for another dark ages of sort. it makes me feel like we are running right back in to the 60's, a time of seemingly liberal ideals but staunchly conservative, if not fundamentalist, opposition. in a way, we are slowly unravelling the tapestry of freedoms that we have woven over the past 40 years, once again criminalizing the counterculture while advertising it with cardigan sweaters in a gap ad or in the latest fall out boy video.

racism, true homicidal lynching redneck racism, is coming back with a fury. bigotism, with all the trappings of testosterone and fear, is resurfacing. in general, hatred is knocking on our door. the police state may be a ways off, but a state of fear has definitely set in. hatred is born in fear (feer the creep). sure i use the words, i actually long to stand in the middle of the intersection in my house and scream 'stupid nigger' at the next escalade driven by a cel phone talking member of the darker race that tries to run me over while i cross. i want to scream 'fucking queer' at the next little foppish popped collared faux-hawk looking 21 year old that sneers at me when i go up to order my 10th vodka 7. i want to yell 'shitbagger fogey' to the pissbag wearing geriatrics that call me at work and expect me to respect them for their age when in honesty they probably haven't respected anyone for their whole lives. but my bigotry and racism is mine, not motivated by fear. i'm motivated by just a lack of even an ounce of compassion for anyone, or anything.

maybe i am a part of the problem. maybe i should do more to change that which upsets me rather than just add to the problem.

maybe i should be perfect, but that is for other saviors. not me.