Gyre wants you all to know: was 78 degrees in Cupertino when I pulled into the Apple parking lot a 9:45 this morning.
My weather widget would like you all to know that it is scheduled to hit 79 degrees in San Francisco today.
Maybe we should increase the length of the drip on the tree for a while.
I should always remember that Pigface and Meg Lee Chin and Murder Inc and and and all the other fabulous industrial music is my prescription when I'm ground and down about work and life. It really does make me feel better. Nobody plays the drums like Mr. Atkins.
We have been worthless, we have been safe, in minds belittled by the threat, of our own ice age.
A fall distorts us, and where we've been, rewriting bastards as contenders-
sight unseen. In place of angels, butchers hands, too wide to fit through doors of virtue, blame, demand.
Blame and demand.
We count for distance, from human nerves, we count for all the things we take, that we don't deserve, all contradictions will make us stand to fake the end as the beginning - blame, demand.
Blame and demand.Posted by shock at May 25, 2005 10:20 AM