ive got a voice; or what passes for one in life today. helped myself to a slice of the sidewalk to peddle my wares; so what if my "soap-box" has a login name and password?! i get that warm whiskey-glow feeling when set it down. seeing those pixels blink to life as if actually being born to stand in my sentence; to be part of my devious plot. just supposing that it does; where is the harm in that? my creating and then birthing a thought into electronic prose...? so what if i dont like the government, who cares that i am insulted by my representation therein? ...has this mutinious crowd forced a reaction? who controls who; the bull? or the matador? for while the bull charges blind with fury [only because his huevos have been severly lasso'd and yanked; yikes!] the matador must still move to avoid being skewred like a marshmellow
mmmm s'mores!