Fantastico!

Discover, breathe, bend, move the bed. Walk the mile. Extra or otherwise. Walk backwards, front. In a while everything becomes saner as the insanity hurtles. 200 miles per hour, 320 kmph. Whatever metric. U.S Gallons or U.K, its the oil that will do us in. Dinosaurs fossilised, ancient forests in black liquid. Callous, careless its made us. 6 billion and counting, one by one the mistakes add on. Too much of something where too less is required.

The lakes, the ponds poisoned. What was once a right, the untouched beach needs to be bought for a few days or hours. Our freedom pissed away and everything worthwhile bought with the Gandhis or the Washington’s. Twitter or none. The servers keep working, backing worthless data and worthless thoughts. Expression died the day I lost my love. What remains is the ramble and what was once written on the walls of my brain. Living life, critiqued by relatives and people who never really contributed. Stay on top, kick everyone’s ass and lick the popiscle while its still there. Melt, let the icebergs and death to the polar bears. What doesn’t evolve needs to die or put on the walls of an oil tycoon.

Wealth has a curious way of ending in households that don’t need them. Households that procreate the worthless progeny of the likes. Paris’ that don’t deserve to breathe, live or love. What kids will they bring forth, what were they anyways?

Cities expand, quality of life improves they say. For what was once a 10 min walk, now needs a Metro rail. 60,ooo trees cut, each was 50 years old.Do the Math and 3 million years gone! Development and progress, such heavy words. Of late everyone’s forgotten – population, every life, a new mistake. Herding masses to nameless graves. In the meanwhile everyone eats, everyone breathes.

Snatching seats and breathes collectively.The ramble goes on. The mediocre become the elitist, the poor stay poor. Rich see ruin and middle class become the neo rich. Kapoors become coopers and some actually still worship ol hitler. The iron cross on their cheap cotton shirts, doesn’t matter if the maker got the swatika all wrong.

Fantastico. Maybe this is the new line, the new work. Feel unleashed today. It will stay. The ramble.

Regards,

CZ