Beasty and the Freak.

I know not, what plagueth me.
Ok perhaps I do, or I have the capacity to know, assuming ofcourse that my faculties still function on some base, infinitely finite level. But I hope and pray, and so comes the day.

I do know what plagueth me at present, it is the inertia of the present. Yes ego and I have decided to coincide and agree on this point, we BOTH reiterate blatantly that our inertia is screwed up. Much screwed up, it is infernally rickety on my end and racketed on his. Boring on my end and boisterous on his, loud on his end and listless on mine. All jumbled evasively in one insurmountable package.
After note to fore-self: Ego prefers being called in the He, My Yang, to put it much mildly. Yang which despite having opposing genitalia is still as much of a wuss as Yin, so big whoopee. Affirmative Beasty and the freak.

I discover, now that I actually am a self-boted journalist-a, that I dont really fancy politics. I particularly abhor the rationed bull-shit bravado of it all. Opportune moment, you say conscience? Well I aim to please!
I discover also my base talent for stringing syllables togther is evaporating fast and forward because of the abject crap I need to pretend I care about. So yes! my immensely complexed, small fascile self....listens to shit loads of Johnny cash and Joni Mitchell.... for doses of spiritual intellectuality. Reads Buddhist mantras for enlightenment and perennially pretends that the primary reason for my innate lack of direction in my direction, is the fact that I seek adventure and pathos, and not just because im too hard pressed to get off my rather sizeable (sheesh) backside and bother.