I can hardly stand

We just keep spinning around.
spinning.

I have committed the sin of false airs.
I have betrayed myself.
I have pretended to be something other than what I truly am.
I have lost connection to my center.

isn't it strange? how can we go on like this?
flies in the dark, looking for a spark
but something's gotta give
but if we won't change how can we go on like this?
how can I ...
how can I live?

it's just a dream
just a silhouette
that hasn't happened yet

but the earth is moving fast
if I'm gone before the dawn
take all that there was and make it live!

how do I live?

--sarah fimm

My mind, fueled by the pulsating sonic emanations, electronically generated tones and rhythms...

There is no content here.

No cohesiveness.

Only fragments. A desperate grasp. What am I? Where am I going? What am I doing?

Narcotic Thrust:

I hate the treadmill everyday
I hate the mundane things they say
the boredom sets in 9 to 5
at night, that's when i come alive

I long to be connected
I long to be affected
the bright lights beckon me
beckon me to you

...

there must be more to life than this
this life, I surely will not miss
to spend my time waiting in line
in search for something, a grand design

I long to be connected
I long to be affected
The bright lights beckon me
beckon me to you

Cheesy pop? Certainly so, but the theme is resonant. More importantly, the tune is catchy, and the production full of sizzle. But anyway...

After a while, doesn't it get old to have everything look the same every day? Certainly, there is an argument to be made for consistent, methodical site design. Separating presentation from content. A neat little relational database to keep everything straight and tidy. A box for me to ramble my thoughts in; a box for all of you to respond to specific articles; another box for tiny tidbits; another for permanent links. And the rest is all window dressing and branding. (Even if we anti-marketing types hate that word. "branding")

But right now, I'm more interested in letting the energies flow. Scribbling outside the lines. Sometimes, you just have to mix in a little bit of CRAZY.