3.26.07 Monday, 10 am
And with each morn' our faces awaken, groggy, unsure and confused. We fell fast asleep, knowing our gravest dangers lay not in our dreams but with the morning's glory. Think of those sunrises at the beach, that peace and solitude that remains unknown to so many dear souls. And who is to reckon with this and remain content in their existence? What livelihood can account for these beauties of our time, so rich in truth and absent of disgrace. How can we let those moments remain untapped and continue this banal existence? I can't wait and I won't. I will not allow my soul to deter my growth, to slow my progression. Dangerous souls remain at each turn, and our environment will never be rid of them. With a cape and a cane they walk so proud. Dealing with this trivia of life, unbeknownst to they or their peers. And why would they leave this life, knowing nothing outside it and uncaring nontethelss.
How virtuous history appears before our eyes, dancing off the page in radiance of admiration and esteem. We remain loyal to those we never knew, believeing the admonisment of our own time to be vain and lacking truth. Yet we dredge on with our ankles restrained, lifting the masses on each heave in step. We proclaim from on high, our chests full of valor, our brows narrowing to the auspices of the day. The sun opens our eyelids, drawing means to no visible end. One knows only that which remains unspoken; that which can never be contested by the swine of this age, carried six feet under, remaining inherent in the spirit of which it was born.
Dreamed she was St. Augustine,
mean, lean, the go between
God and men, syntac
attack the swine, thou time
is upon us kind sir, deter
not your sister's cry, making
haste of waste, confess in jest
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