Imagine there's no Heaven. It's easy if you
try. No Hell below us. Above us, only sky.
Everybody's flyin', but no one leaves the
ground. Everybody's cryin', but no one
makes a sound.
I love learning. That's probably why I don't like school very much.
Voilà! In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran, cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of Fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished. However, this valorous visitation of a by-gone vexation, stands vivified, and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin van-guarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition. The only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta, held as a votive, not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous. Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose, so let me simply add that it is my very good honour to meet you and you may call me V
Which is worse: Hell or Nothing?
Anarchy means "without rulers," not "without order."
Picture yourself planting radishes and seed potatoes on the fifteenth green of a forgotten golf course.
You'll hunt elk through the damp canyon forests around the ruins of Rockefeller Center, and dig clams next to the skeleton of the Space Needle leaning at a forty-five-degree angle. We'll paint the skyscrapers with huge totem faces and goblin tikis, and every evening what's left of mankind will retreat to empty zoos and lock itself in cages as protection against bears and big cats and wolves that pace and watch us from outside the cage bars at night...
Imagine stalking elk past department store windows and stinking racks of beautiful rotting dresses and tuxedos on hangers; you'll wear leather clothes that will last you the rest of your life, and you'll climb the wrist-thick kudzu vines that wrap the Sears Tower. Jack and the beanstalk, you'll climb up through the dripping forest canopy and the air will be so clean you'll see tiny figures pounding corn and laying strips of venison to dry in the empty car pool lane of any abandoned superhighway stretching eight-lanes-wide and August-hot for a thousand miles.
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...dang. Fuggin' swank!
Those enchanted strings really tie your avi together. xD
..Sucker!
~ ~ ~
I kind of miss my old hippy-ness... but I would need a donation of 2345 to get my old pants, shirt, and hair back.
Oh, and btwjsyk, I love you more than anyone ever has or ever will. >:[
Have a lovely day!
www.gaiaonline.com/homes?user=6160453
I say our friends should come on Gaia occasionally.
Wouldn't you agree, Mr. Shang Tsung?
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SPAM!!!