If you want to sing out, Sing Out!: No worries.

If you want to sing out, Sing Out!: No worries.

No worries.

After an almost 2 yr break I find myself again milling around inside of my inner gut to create. Typing, I suppose, is as good a creation as any. I prefer other techniques to the word "art" at other times. This, however, is not one of those times.

I have decided, within as much of my power as I can, I will try to only observe politics from here on out and not put in my two cents. But don't think I'll ever be removing my Obama 08 bumper sticker quite yet... Everyone knows the power of one is frighteningly microscopic against the masses of all those other "ones" who - well if we're going to speak bluntly, then I'm going to speak bluntly - the "ones" who have monetary control over the masses.

Are we all but ants? Are we all but tiny little viruses invading some larger organism and colonizing until we become so toxic that we end up becoming our own demise? Some might think so. Or, if you don't want to go anatomical-Matrix on us we could just compare it to "Horton Hears A Who". You get the drift. If you don't by now, just save yourself the trouble and stop reading this blog.

Go read a book.

I am working on pieces again.
It's useful when you're trying to forget how to feel.
Or something crazy-Emo like that.

Well I've got news for you, teary-eyed, razor-wielding, skinny jeans. I just drank one of St. Louis' very last Kombuchas and it was delicious.

Life is still good.

Over and Out.