One Step Closer To The Glory Hole

When I look at any so-called “open system that must stay equalized” that yet somehow stirs up improbable hurricanes, I feel justified in my scepticism.

The state of perpetual emergency imposed from above by some local lord feels artificial.

What dilettante bohemians consider medicine for the soul might not be your cup of tea, but an anarchist’s utopia could be a portal to something better if your imagination had free rein.

The natural world is our native planet— if we’re lucky the energy and elements combine to make our lives worth living.

Peace and understanding are possible, if you can see past the DMT-hungry cannibals scooping the brains out of your skull like it was tasty pudding.

And people think zombies don’t have preferences.

Soul rebel.