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I curse myself that curses back and leaves me squalor in literary obfuscation. These times when all is topsy turmoil and my interest and attention wane so lowly, lowball stall and confused eye strains. Reading becomes somewhat a chore and sentences blend and disappear into the meandering fantasy thoughts and inner plays of mine mind. So lost and trapped in memories and mental imaginings that take me so very far away from the here and now and the bookie wook love.

I place myself in this realm because I am obsessed with obsessing and ruminating musings. Analytics that lead me astray and proffer nothing more than slight awakenings and scud missile understanding that flounders and misses targets in disarray. Yet I hold on, hold on to hope of epiphanies that do not darken or stab the heart. Maybe one day the gentle understanding that I have inside my head will unleash upon the world and my family, peers and friends.

Still this affliction, affected or infected, makes me vile and angry as a roid raged southern dandy, may the old gods come in handy as I invoke the God of Brandy. Dionysius bacchus that ass up. Sexy vixens they do trollop, upon my head inside the brain, concentration the speeding train. Thoughts sporadical and clueless, Cher the dull brain with the Net. Hang it all I feel like giving up but I flounder on and stuff myself inside my present book. Hard eyeing little words that mock me oh so fierce. Shall I go back to focus and meditation to release me from this grip?

The spacey unfocused Lenny that cannot stay with one task. How I hate his ugly mug and stance and recoil at his advance. It’s on me now but just a phase; learning’s hard my fate embrace. If I could spend an hour just straight reading and consuming, and not be lifted away on the back of forever daydreaming.

I’m a dreamer Tommy. Creativity my desire; playthings playmates, itch of the bitch and flick of the wrist on pads and keyboards not pages and pens. Enthralled by merry mods and games, flashy pictorials turn me from the written word that feeds my brain and humbles me so. Humble to write a blog, humble to assume neutral and impartial, humble to think you sitting there with coffee taking in the eyeful. These words doth reach the populace but not with inspiration but methinks with random procrastination. I should write of other such things besides the inner demons and lack of productive, besides the alcoholic frenzy and the polyphonic spree, and nonesuch rants about the state for nothing turns like pedantry. And not a lick that turns for good for people sick of empty brood, the kind that stokes but no fire and talks some shit about striking empire. But this is no resistance, no Star Wars deliverance where rebels win with persistence and little furries that’s not adult content.

The battlefront is fraught with mines that disseminate the lies that bind. But people want to party and forget and the aftermath is oh shit. For tiresome is that grind to fight the greedy and the blind that are given keys and stock options, let to run amok and then, given free pass no jail sentence. If this was GTA I’d snipe em quick and run away to Tahiti or some place, where coconuts are plentiful and sweet and I have time to read in peace.

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