bears

Tick tick tick, the keys type and the words trail off into insignificance... Who's watching now? All your dreams and hair-brained schemes will not come to much unless you purify the intention first. Who is it for? Is it merely to satisfy your own little smug-smiling inner beastly-cute teddy-bear, whose smile betrays his lurking teeth, which are sharp, cos a bear's bite is much worse than his growl. And if he purrs in sweetness, it's really the smugness of a victory, that he has succeeded in making you take pride in something, and thereby destroying the purity of what the words should be for after all...

So take heed my friends, and as yet invisible co-conspirators. We will overcome the bears and their wierd smiles, and faux-fur phony disguises. The inner monster is to be tamed, and then we can live in harmony.

A siren hails that traffic flow is gone awry once again. The flooded streets of a Middle-Eastern desertland, is sarcastic, but crushingly real. Masses flow to where-ever they can be but here, and honk and butt through, as unmannerly as any Muslim would be, who has lost touch with what a 'religion'should be. Maybe we're all a bit impatient cos our little bears in our tummies are growling, cos they've been deprived of food, so they spend the day sharpening their teeth for that first bite of sundown.

Or its just habitus. Where else is the glorious horn on our transportation so orgasmically used to the pinnacle of it's purpose. An existance fulfilled for the horn, and a soundscape unparrrallelled, in our harsh globalmelting-pot. Oh its great to be here, and one day I'll try to translate.

But time's running low, and I gotta go.

There's some frozen meat defrosting in my bag, and Im afraid if some bears smell it they'll hound me all the way home...