Tuesday, June 30, 2009

I am depressed.

Walt Whitman, "Song of the Road":
From this hour, freedom!
From this hour I ordain myself loos’d of limits and imaginary lines,
Going where I list, my own master, total and absolute,
Listening to others, and considering well what they say,
Pausing, searching, receiving, contemplating,
Gently, but with undeniable will, divesting myself of the holds that would hold me.

I inhale great draughts of space;
The east and the west are mine, and the north and the south are mine.

...until this time next year, when gas is $10/gal and everything made or grown or sold in America has sky-rocketed in price, including little tin cans with golf-cart engines. And I'm in a camp somewhere for treason or terrorism or just being too fat.

Everything comes down to I just can't believe how fucking stupid people are.

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