In this Age of UnReason, my current plan remains, as it’s been all along, to live to the age of 600. At which point, I will be subsisting solely on the yeasty aroma of English Muffins.
The hard part being: out-living everyone I’ve ever loved.
Especially those I love right now (shout out to the 600-years-from-now-future loves, though. Do not be disconsolate nor jealous.).
And I feel a little sad for these guys in the future, ’cause I’m awesome, but that’s their problem, because I’m happy for my 600-year-old self, to know them, ALL of them, each and every-goddamn one of them, to have contributed to their daily conundrum.
There is a reign, a rain, of glass shards, I would call down upon all who have chosen confusion, instead of my kiss. Some of you will have had centuries to decide. Some, an instant.
balingwireandspit 