Factor in the cost of living and it will never rise to the limits and lows of the force that frolics. For it is the folly of the fallow that flows freely into the free minds of the fearful.
Fetching pails and scooping handfuls of despair with the water tainted by stains and quatrains, it's a desperate attempt to salvation. One step over the lake and it's two more over across the bank to safety. Such a metaphoric concept that it is.
Money buys nothing by weight here in the wild. Running with gilded jowls rubs crazy in the wrong way. But then again there is never a way to rub crazy the right way.
Unless it's for a show, and well, by all means, rub the dickens out of the sanity and into a ghostly trail of red that means whatever it means.
Written on Wednesday, 4 October 2006