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I didn't really have a title particularly. It's a mesh of somehwat nothing and everything. It's Nick at Night, Car 54. What does that even mean?
Went through somewhat of a paranoid period. Apples don't get spyware. Apparently. Well, don't delete your system folders at 3 A.M. my dear brothers and only friends.
Almost finished with this novel which has taken a bit of my life. I mean it's really at it's end, 1-2 more intensive ranting periods and it's set. Except for typing the damn fucking red/tan booklets. Maybe this will be the last time I use a notebook? It's utterly impossible to say anything like 'the last time'. It's this resolute nonesense that leads the world into peril. I'm done with it. Clogs my heart, soul and creativity. I've just always sort of felt John Lennon, Ghandi, Martin Luther King, were all sign posts the next people had to fix. Those who must as they were born (save the world) shall, but really it has to be permanent. In my personal beliefs, we are in fine-set round as I call it, all or nothing, set a system based on humanity as a race or winter-skin elders (you) regret then. It won't happen (the apcoloypse) and none of the all in all scenarios. It's not what's been choosen, deep in people's hearts they don't want some sort of metaphorical stuffed chicken shit. Here's a certain theory I'll share;

These years past are a sort of alternative confusion mass manipulation caused by the 9/11 fixture; put down the conspiracy theory of damned or revenge of hate and listen:
When something so terrible happens, hearts open and look for love no matter what.
New York has represented America's arms around the world, a city of melding pot, humanity as humanity.
The Financial Centers represent the true attempt to turn capitalism into something whole, something real and something that can and will make good. It is one of New York's many arms, really that place was a certain mark of Clintonianism which we all loved with his chuckle and the joint we wished we smoked with him.
Just recovering from the "the world will end" scenario of 2000 and the whole 'we fucked the programming' scheme, everyone was willing to believe... well, maybe God was late on vengence, he should have FedEx-it. Looking back, it's fucking absurd but I can see it at the time, I mean as much as I didn't want to believe it, it all seemed so much bigger than how I really felt, everyone wanted to agree with the great good of all.
Now, let's not get angry political or turn anyone off;
had we reacted in a different way the world would be a better place. Michael Moore (no matter how you feel on the chap) was right, that day, everyone was American. We should have cried on our brotherns shoulders and made better what was wrong. This was a scar from something retroactive, it happens, call it karma, call it national indigestion, whatever.
With Clinton, well no I won't do that. But. Hm.
The way we reacted, being told immediately that there was an enemy of freedom, that they hated us because we're free, all of these things. What? But at the time, with hearts so open, it's not hard to say hate was stuffed in. With the magnitude of such awful awful, well I'd say that hate is now finding ways to, for lack of better words, 'go away'. Like dreams manifesting the subconcious father who alchy some burns on Judd Nelson's John Bender, we are now thinking.
Remember how weird the world was?
Remember waking up in the morning and thinking, wow, the sky is pretty. Then suddenly the next day remembering nothing but fear... and this taste in your mouth; WHEN ARE WE GOING TO DIE??????? With colors flashing, it's rather funny. TODAY IS A MEDIUM BLUE! SHOP ONLY K-MART. But seriously, that's how life was.
Now I'm not saying some hippie java, you will not fix the world because you kissed your mom, although you will help the spectrum of bigger things but that's another time, place, and people are not really acquired for all that yet.
Moving further.
My point is America is now back in a place of pragmatic possibility. People can now sit down and really think about this.
That a person somewhere is not sitting down (as though they're stupid because they look different) thinking, while scratching their heads Barney Simpson-esque 'I hate freedom. Freedom is stupid. DAMN THEM! I'LL DIEE!!!!!'
Maybe someone would think though; 'you have murdered my brothers, my sisters, and I have nothing to live for. I will follow and listen to anything anyone says'. I mean, it's really complex, but I think we've all got better shoulders.
This is an important time. Because it's important to remember, had anything terrorist ever happened again, had anything no matter what, you cannot allow yourself to sweep down into the carpet of nowhere and anybodys death. Heart dies, throat chokes, base spirals to nothing and everyone becomes mud. That was a condition of the world for years. No further.

I speak this saying I find myself particularly apart of this syndrom and my ability to explain it perhaps will help another person. Or it can easily be snubbed, it's up to anyone really. I won't judge.
I can no longer hide waiting for some sort of possum game. Bullshit is bullshit, Britney Spears, the other one and the American Idol ones were never art. Nor music. Somebody has to call this shit out. Otherwise people start to think gum is dinner and getting fad is good for Jesus. No; that didn't make sense. Nothing did. Now finally over, as I'd waited knowing in my heart not what so many years ago but just something dark, in that same knowing, I knew it'd end.
Stop thinking of things as Democrat, Republican, even though there are particular affiliates and fixings both parties will have to if they're going to do anything ever. I have my opinions, but you know the rules on dinner conversations.
I spent a good deal of years worrying George Bush was in some way listening. Like sitting there, waiting to get anyone and everyone who disagreed. But for a while, they kind of were. I mean, remember that old guy from the Faherenheit who the feds knocked doors with? I remember homeland security signs all over Fairfield. Imagine that? They're probably still there, relics of something so absurd we're all better off dead than living like rats biting nails Fiveling.
But really, one Friday I walk the 2 hour walk (I was what 15/16) for my Friday 12-hour movie sneakings and everything is real pretty, idealic and nice for poetry. Next week, between BJs Discount Club and the Fairfield Theatre (the big one with the river between that and the Bridgeport movie theatre) there were these large signs (i'm laughing typing because these are like vintage signs you laugh about); large America in RED below it the little AOL guest log in 1994 guy with a top hat 50s detective-like and a trench coat, and the red letters say: "THIS IS A HOMELAND SECRUITY WATCH AERA. REPORT ANYTHING SUSPICIOUS" or so, and a PHONE NUMBER is at the bottom. Signs, with a phone number, to tell on your friends next time your pist. 'ello? Yeah, my pal is a fucker, he stole my grahm... oh, I mean he's a terrorist".
Nuff said'.
I'll tell you how the book comes.
Little Nemo too. I'm adopting that. Have a fair idea of it now, script 1stdraft between 2nd-draft type-up of Fairfield.
Peace+Love+Empathy

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