There are so many of them…

Currentivism is painful but natural. It is what the desert affords, country boy. The piano set gatling down my family, causing me to come to terms with the fact that a time may come when we must leave the mountain to breathe truth into the city, for better or for worse.

There comes desperation into the eyes of those who linger in places foul afield with crinkling rot. The rolling over again into your tab. Calling them bitches when they won’t fall for your nice guy routine. Welcome to what is important. The real fight. Bottle warmer on the microwave. It’s been a month, and I’m hoping to attend the team meeting tomorrow at work.

I don’t make any promises. The meeting is at nine thirty in the morning. I’ve been waking up at around two in the afternoon and not going to sleep until around four. I need my personal time. It’s crazy how much I need my personal time, here. Calling you the audience is unfair. You’re so much more than that. What would I be without you? You are bibles. Together we are currentivism.

The other houses have nothing on us. We are not a house. We are more than a house. We are a species. We are the future. Welcome to the coyote revolution. Keep calm, meditate, and practice your mantras. We’re not out of the woods yet. Any Oasis that you’re spotting is a mirage. This is not the time for relaxing. Does this look like success to you? You are at the base of a mountain, but you are the mountain.

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Posted in Lit

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