Entry 10

So feverishly adorned with hat and gown, they stride half-crazed into the open wound of humankind. Bumping into each other, knocking heads, they gaze and peer into the limelight of corrosive living, hoping to catch a glimpse of something fertile, virile, and unexplained. I was one of them, you see, I was one whose heart was an enemy to good food, good drink. My crazy laughter was something of an irony. On the one hand, I obeyed and was respected, but on the other, I was terrible. So terrible that I raced it all. I saw how corroded was preferred and couldn't keep from dipping my finger in what wasn't there. So I assumed a foul posture, and predicted the world as dead. And was it? Had life sprung up from my foolish fathom, my foolish game?
Alas, I stand questionable on the quiet earth, my visitations somewhat over, but know not what seize means, and it all could be followed by a great clandestine blowout.

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