I title a new biography with a solemn vow to weed out the insecurity's of man and monkeys. I move into a abyss of toilet paper and nachos covered with avocado and cheese hoping that a little man will play a card and move past the masses threat envelop a freedom i can't express. I wonder why the people who deserve to die do and the people do don't. Its a rhyme that one has no answer for. A parallel life that has a cross street to oblivion with no timetable for a with drawl. It makes no sense says the pied piper of perfection. It makes a sting from a wasp gentle and subtle with a taste of thoughtfulness that is intersected by a whim of fancy from a gentlemen holding a cup of cherries basked in the light from a dim silhouetted moment. I cherish these moments. I hope you understand. This means nothing to me. It is a emotional roller coaster brought upon by the scourge of many paupers. I laugh with disgust. I'm morbidly timid of the child within me. I scream out loud. I'm done I say. I'm out.
