parable for the pleased
WHAT IS THIS ADMIRATION!?
My walls are crumbling,
will no one help build them up?
why else should we live but to discuss (at least) the horror and the terror of all this life, God how old we get and some of us go mad and everything changes viciously-its that vicious change that hurts as soon as something is cool and complete it fall apart and burns
Karma Karma Karma, oh how I dread thee.
"in the mountain shack I murdered a mouse which was-agh-it had little eyes looking at me pleadfully it was already viciously wounded by my stabbing it with a stick through its potective hidingplace of lipton's green pea soup packages, it was all covered with green dust, thrashing, I put the flashlight right on it, removed the packages, it looked at me with 'human' fearful eyes('all living things tremble from the fear of punishment'), little angel winds and all i just let her have it, right on the head, a sharp crack, that killed it, eyes popped out covered with green pea dust-As I hit it I almost sobbed yelling 'poor little thing!' as though it wasn't me doing it?"
--Jack Kerouac
And most of you who are on my "friends" list most likely wont even read and comment(commenting is the only sure way to know if someone read it; comfort comment rather)on this, which is pretty sad.