This is my blog so I can write what I want.
This is my blog so you never have to read it.
It's the dead of night ramblings when all things come into sharp focus. I feel like a chewed up carcass, shat out on the side walk by a work house dog. Run over by a dump truck veering to take out the hyenas babbling and groveling for scraps on a corner in Times Square.
It's a dark night of the soul and all things surround a democracy dying while people shout to be heard.
Buried. We are buried. Democracy scrapes the dirt from her eyes and blindly pitches forward grasping at the tiny bit of light that somehow seeps through the gaping wounds.
Stumbling through the sycophantic Stockholm legion of HRC followers with their ears unable to hear, their eyes unable to see, the truth rises like scum on a putrid pond, fracked out to such toxicity that the lifeless fish are the least of our worries.
Ugly, ugly, ugly. Trolls, child porn, bomb threats, there is treachery at every turn.
