Bait and Tackle, Wedding March Bows

“The ceremony of peace, love, song and dance, is traditional indeed, but always tending to forget line dances with Beowulf might end up being forgotten like drunk history. These implanted memories, the only things we left the island with, the depressing repetitive in-hydro artificial insemination of indigo children into Liquid crystalline displays gave way to a generation that knew it would last as long as earth remains. The challenging stories we get from the media of composite conceptual schemes that may only be categorized into the special reserve section. Don’t read these books until you’ve mastered the subjects in your field of study, you won’t be able top digest this paradigm unless you can remember each parable, each perverse expression of fables Past, the warrior in love, the beast invading the peace, the monk teaching silence with nothing but actions. Our current events seem to have forgotten about these past recurrences, so when something entirely new comes about, imposters, fans and Capitol punishment appears to represent the value of the source that was so original. Everything has been fantasized, no mixed media left to discover, this happened during the crusades, and the conflict in Kosovo, a gem, a jewell, the light of the ocean was coveted and locked up to present its precious memory in the gallery. No one could forget seeing this object on display, but those who remember it most scourge the day its line out the door trampled innocent lives like black Friday. These historical moments represent the Manifest Destiny, an initiative to explore the final frontier, Oregon trail left apache tears at wounded knee, and now those burial grounds are golf courses for the ultra rich can play a game, a game only the Scottish could appreciate, hailing from the myre. Peet moss and it’s fossil fuel decay, they taught us of this in primary school….was it real, like permafrost? An essential medium on the earth’s floor or is it time to debunk all these urban legends? Thrilling the lifestyle of classical movements, but now that we know our three kings, Columbian, Mediterranean, and Siberian descent, find us the priceless portion of culture and diversity, stop categorizing us, we don’t need to be read and over written all the time, I prefer knowing how individual our personalities are, don’t call me bi-polar for know left from right brain, my frontal lobe decides on which to express, and I can change my mind when the timing is right. Developing in the foundry was unexpected, they charge an arm and a leg for having a stroke of luck, one that came in seasons, and the yield is unbelievable. I’ve proven the facts so many times…but then I double back to check if my history is biased to prevent decline. Do I sacrifice my self and discard all my hard work? I embossed the chromatic pearlescent finish on this memory, just something to ensure that my writings stood the test of time, like a pharoe coming back from coptic preservation, did I fall into the sky or was the ether what brought me in? How did my psychedelic veteran experience prepare me for this schism? Well, I was born ready for this, augmented by our devices and I asked enough questions for people to tell me they don’t make enough money to know the answer to my questions, oh well I say knowledge gets one no where. I have information that I know to be true to me, but it could mean something else with your confirmation bias, so I don’t Pry when I feel that resistance, I try to be kind and trying makes me feel humbled and juvenile, silly that showing off might make one’s flex rebound into disaster, oh this social anxiety, don’t leave me for loneliness…”

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