There’s an aspect of reality untouched by the dogmas of today. One peeled behind the rest left behind is a cask of the human experience. Why’s truth matter when truth is a means to an end? I’m cast in the middle between love and hate, and hate and love, and love to the death of love itself sitting in the middle spinning in circles holding on to the ideals of youth blinded by the promise of greed. The ever-powerful allure of lust and love, love and lust. Lust to death. What ends began to and died to being the death brings birth and from birth brings forth the love of life. I love to hate, and hate to love, and love to death. I’m dead also therefore I live. I’m lost therefore I’m found and found, found so, therefore, I’m dead. What’s left in this world of nothing? All I have let is money sex and, drugs. That’s all that life is. Money sex and drugs.
