Friday, April 24, 2009

drums blare over my thoughts

once, a boy, who had a stern realism that even the coldest of economists would cringe at, felt it was time for a new approach. He voiced the song of radical subjectivity. Nothing is true, Everything is permissible. Chaos is life and a life that refuses containment or structure.
Fear is life.
Love is life.
Wrong is life.
is life.
is life.
is life.

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