I refuse to use whatever nerve synapses I have left to pay attention to the soul suckers drafting life, love and happiness out of the “common man and Woman” like wind funnels leeching the skies and filtering the spoils of soil foreshadowing the wrath of tornadoes so equivalent to these resource tycoons butchering continents for all that, oil. And whose left feeling the haunting, no sickening, no grotesque pain of inflation, hiked prices and the inability to survive or succeed without my carbon-shitting transport…me!
I watch, glued to the tel-lies-vision. It rectified my thoughts I thought I had some ounce if not a mustard seed of morals, one crack of oral disapproval for the natural habitats you know the wetlands, ice caps and coral, reefs. Life isn’t always a beach but I’d better learn to float before the NBC, TBS, CBS, TNT… keeps on FOX-ing me; preventing me from seeing BS on most these channels televising with more than the gentle aggressive advertising to someone like or unlike… me?
I, remove the vision teller from before my eyes. Open the apertures of my pupils and the world’s music amplifies, in sync; classical overtures. Tones become visible, the earth spits her harmonics in melodies mastering frequencies like hillbillies with chrome harmonicas. Worlds of words come to mind; encyclopedia Britannica. White balance and contrast drop the auto function as if programmed to auto-function. Third eye arrives and decides on revealing its ultimate junction of residence. My residence ultimately is earth and her resident is… ME.