Sunday, September 03, 2006

Something somewhere is making minimal sense. It’s either the period where management of limbo is scarcely possible...or woe betide, God forbid, Valhalla be restrained, much worse...

(In chorus)
Something wicked this way comes!

Is this also to be classified as fieldwork? Inability to deal, complete petrification, utter incomprehensibility. Of self, more than anything else. So then, I have this irrational urge to lash out, to convert fear into anger, to assert knowledge in the face of blankness.

I would like to pick a fight. Any volunteers?