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Rusty Satellites

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(no subject) [Jul. 21st, 2008|01:25 pm]
Rusty Satellites
So ham
Ho hum
Heave ho
So ham

The st.petersburgs of the world are heavy and cold
I should speak with simple
myshkin honesty, but even that prince
had his aims. 

summer insatiables [Jun. 30th, 2008|07:13 pm]
Rusty Satellites
What could be nobler than devoting an entire night to the pursuit of love?
More foolish than rushing towards a heartbreak inevitable? 

An imagined conversation::
   ---I envy your apparent contentment, really I do
   ---But you're content, too, aren't you?
   ---Sometimes, but you at least have a girl who is in love with you and you know that she is. 

Dirge drifts into silvery dark
like magnolia drooping downwards
can liken it to the mournful melt of ice
to the electric smelt of iron.
Phantom thoughts are
drawing out
lacy heaviness,
all these effigies
dripping into a butter pan.
and spoil in the
eventual heat of dawn,
they shrivel as stubborn
suburban mushrooms:
brown, wrinkled, carnivorous
covering the skin of trees,
the grass beds of covered hills.

I haven't been taking any time for myself lately, handing and spreading it out forcefully, as if in a desperate grasp for love, all I've been interested in lately---I need hardness now, physicality. 

Dance today, my heart. Dance today in esctasy. [Jun. 25th, 2008|06:33 pm]
Rusty Satellites
How do we feeling, oh morning?
    Like a long and humble basilisk
    Like low misty jungle mooon
    Like blue magician of pro-creation
    Like desert herbs, solving gallbladders
                      of mothers.
    As a cotton coin purse, ring a ting tinging
    As rain
    As shine
    As space between lines
    Like light shining through leaves
    Like gray clay at the bottom of every lake
    Like the sun spinning so slowly, too
    Like the golden moon, huge at the horizon
    As stacks of books, all different colors and sexes
    As waking at dawn
    As a short haired lion, yawning about the day
    As the swirling pulp of long lined trees
    the little man, making contrasts into salt water

Honestly, I never expected to feel so much remorse for leaving Louisville. 
Now that the time is becoming all too real, I suppose it's only natural. 

Just this morning I was complaining about this city, its cyclical rehashing of nonsense and and its sunbaked sidewalks.  how foolishly I looked for an escape route, when everything I need surrounds me.  it fills every idle space (lungs, heart chambers, even marrow)

Life at its best is a beautiful sadness
now I really wish I'd written that
            All composed things are like a dream,
            a phantom, a drop of dew, a flash of lighting
             -The Diamond Sutra
link1 HUM|OM

(no subject) [May. 30th, 2008|12:51 pm]
Rusty Satellites
Summer's poetry,
sweet little reveries

2 bug poems::

Scratching the back of my neck,
I find I have crushed the simple gnat
who didn't deserve that

Four o' clock Firefly
drifts sleepy across the morning
He opens his wide gaping maw
and states,
"No matter how unlikely
summer comes, she comes"
link2 HUM|OM

insects [Apr. 12th, 2008|12:08 pm]
Rusty Satellites

Spring comes on strong in its early honeymoon fertility, love blossoming from sunken navals, the yellow and black bumblers swarming each other and extending mad feeler props and nerve endings.  A buzzing scream comes from the bush, dies out in sighing acceptance--love can be over-eager, I know.  It obliterates the past, what was that old coldness?   Everyone is yelling in cabin, no chance for homely silent solitude--it'd almost be easier in the city!  It's less a  matter of inconsideration--consideration just becomes more important when thrown together (no coming of needed adjustment--but only third day of course).  Different historical outcomes: Russia cramped communes of reluctant love, Chinese concentration camps--the Chinamen know their history, this alone could make them the most powerful nation, God willing. 

The single bee in front of my feet flies like a beautiful Japanese gal in a kimono, hovering there, mastering the subtlety and grace of stillness in action of a side-propelled helicopter, bobbing up and down like a Jewish saint, naming some incantation against the holy walls.

Even after pounding waterfall meditation, where I thought The road to Heaven is long--you can't drive to heaven, you have to walk--Even then (why oh why) I swatted at the gentle fly, coming to the chilling conclusion that I was right.  I let them walk o'er my face in shameless penance. 


Leaving in full green and violet bloom, knew it'd happen.  Kept thinking of those words (when I get drunk I GET)  Vodka only--dragged to depths of Russian root suffering.  Cloud shadows cover hills on quiet ride home. 
                Just wanna get there, talk to Molly, think and drink coffee on familiar couches

Be as calm as water--Accept the path of least resistance. 

(no subject) [Mar. 30th, 2008|06:34 pm]
Rusty Satellites
"I got me a sort of one-man religion-- but it takes in everybody.  My religion is so big, no matter who are, you're in it, and no matter what you do, you can't get out of it"
-Woody Guthrie

Tonight the sidewalk is yellow and blue navy gray against the magenta sky--a Turner dream landscape of not-yet rain.  Repeating inner dialogs without stop which I will never remember--ideas which appear like the explosive meeting of fronts and dissolve into the crumbling sands of Eden.  I can feign insanity with the best of them!  The sounds of vowels echo off the clouds and I resist the urge to write them down.  "Why should anything be recorded?" and I quickly blame the inconsistency of the human mind--the quick willingness to forego its own needs and choose that which is sooner, that which will cause its own self-destruction.  I scream at passing cars and bark back at dogs, surround by the sound of rain which does not yet plop into my own head.  And then--blup--one, plup-- another.  It will be coming down soon over the roof of the coffee shop.   Suddenly I remember my father's insecurity--in mid sentence--and then the bearded man in the car (so elusive) "Be a good boy, Nick"  To which I replied an enthusiastic "awlright."  Now walking with pen still in hand, walking to intercept the 29 before it crosses down the street at eastern Parkway towards downtown.  Not trusting a bus to pass me, I walk briskly-- two feet, the only thing a young man can rely on--and even they will one day putter out forever.  After the legs, the body soon follows.
    At Alan's I recognize a glanced over sublime, stemming from meditation awareness and reading in the sunlight: the yabyum postcard in the window frame, the short prayer path towards a Hozzomeen  Buddha--Tyler who is like Burroughs in his excitable energy of childlike sexual thrusting. 
    Finally it seems as though winter is shedding it's loathsome fur and we're all laughing. 

chef-d'oeuvre [Mar. 27th, 2008|03:36 pm]
Rusty Satellites

It is surprising, after every long winter, to see worms on the sidewalk, running from the rain: to find that life has continued mercilessly.

(no subject) [Mar. 18th, 2008|11:40 pm]
Rusty Satellites
so much sincere revulsion today, what is this? 
Everything cuts both ways, now everything cuts both ways

what am I doing? Taking all of this in? Enjoying it...

we are born so that maybe we can learn how to stop murdering and just die or else be born again
till we get it right one morning,
lettin' tiny legs feet walk all over us, closing mouth at night so no lazy spiders sneak in
of course, it's not as simple as all that

I'm sick of all this radical business,
"Farewell Desolation--thou hast seen me well" 
that is what I will say
and be at last done with all this nonsense
ending my despair finding the place of my Birth
away from the den, I, a lamb raised by wolves
link1 HUM|OM

maybe jest out fer love, don't be a sucker [Mar. 8th, 2008|10:59 pm]
Rusty Satellites

Contemplated beatitudes in beautiful morning sun rise of deep fathomless clouds in their empty navy-blue black; misty dawn fog layered on pavement, catches light as it pierces through tree cracks and my blues

Everything is vibrant and sublime at this moment, intensely real and actively engaging: the twinkle of piano keys, the air which is somewhat thick and comforting--like a blanket, not an oppressive hot fog--the birds twitter their conversations and songs across phone wires and tree boughs, the long rectangular chimes beat out a solemn hymn beneath a Chinese pagoda, billboards fill the far-off skyscape like plugs in a socket, like paper stapled gently to corkboard, even the first holy fly, sitting on my knee looking well-rested and healthy "Good morning O herald of spring!" I seem to say.

It's true! There is something subtle about hometowns--it is like an aftertaste--hard to pin down (till gone)


I wish I were more silent
Life would be more sincere
that way
The eerie snowfields of blinding endless white, infinite white sky becoming white powder earth, horizon lost, making blue bubbles in vision
Trudging through knee-deep snow in sleepy Saturday dawn
(the inherent narrative of snow tracks)

Well timed bus zooms me home at unimaginable speeds...looking up from book and suddenly I am past cool blue gas station curving down rolling hill.  
I guess I...(heh heh) musta been dreamin about something.

(no subject) [Mar. 3rd, 2008|04:52 pm]
Rusty Satellites

A glorious spring rings out its bugle--this will be the rock-sitting phase of the year. 
Today everything is sharply focused, my own movements feel graceful and conscious:
I am at the height of my own self. 

Art requires physical strength, the dexterity of the hand--the sweat from the plow
& the culmination of mental faculties of expression
art is both visual and communicative
                   physical and mental
without both, it is a waste of faculties
---> this combination sets it apart from all other work
                       virtue of the pen and plow combined

I see Merton's words with such clarity today- reading outside
those at their lowest are closer to the Highest than those who claim perfection
Christ came for those in need (tax collectors, fishermen, etc) 

"The saint is sanctified not only by fasting when he should fast but by eating when he should eat"

I'm tired of hiding my prayers

This mocking of humility is almost more than I can bear--it clenches my spirit with a rounding sadness of isolation and pity--pity for myself and my inability to be safe in my beliefs.  In America, the people are grateful to live in a country where they are allowed to practice their beliefs without persecution.  So where am I? 
Surrounded by wolves not yet aware of the coming day. 

A persian drunkard follows me [Feb. 24th, 2008|08:01 pm]
Rusty Satellites
Even after being struck blind by rays, nobody locks themselves back in the cave. 

Flood of old memories
dreams of goldfish bliss

hope for future--never quite as happy, never quite as blind
Things always change, always hard to accept, regardless
it seems 

Lookin down tha' ol' dirt road 
You go your way, I go mineee

AWAKE O MY SOUL, WHY DOST THOU SLUMBER? [Feb. 18th, 2008|07:54 pm]
Rusty Satellites
I connect with Dostoevsky because I am the character which spans his novels
the convict prince, Nikolai

I chose to celebrate Lent, despite the fact that I am not a Catholic
explanations to fathers are funny:
loosen self to world
strengthen Self to God

it's very simply
Nobody's trying to impress nobody

"not like the ones partying down at St. Raphael's?"
he says, hahaha

And so, after I got that call I realized it really was just stuff, trapped by a sickness which I couldn't describe or shake, and thereby resolved--feet turned outwards, leaving the door open behind me banging against it's frame by opulent winds. 
                 Career goals / Aspirations: Buy new shoes, get well soon.

NO STEPS BACKWARD [Feb. 5th, 2008|04:07 pm]
Rusty Satellites
Everything is Everything::

Science and religion--both based on observation (at most basic) my experiences are scientific & true--my visions are all there is.  I will leave not from contempt for my fellows but because I dare not oppose the ever-driving current of the Way.  Actions performed by the Way are Non-Action in that there is no differentiation of doer and done to--like circuit boards of different charge, difference makes action--almost wrote RESIST in capitals just so as if resistance was even a possibility of a concept--RESIST WHAT?  The Republican National Convention? HA!  As if anyone is different from anyone (sure, policies...all amounts to fluff of nonsense far as I'm concerned) the Way is subtle and light--in this it overrides all.  Radicals search for nuances in the endless motionless ocean.  Conservatives deny they are even IN the ocean--the worst deny they are becoming wet (which in reality, is true once you are completely soaked--deluded only in the sense of some "bigger picture" with the conventions of dryness).  Here am I, laughing, floating! 

A bus drives me far from home
smile at destiny,
incoherency of future

Thinking back:
Can only recall my own words--proof that I'm a bad listener
-A too-slow old man rings the bell that's already been rung
-The muffled head phones from the thick beaded matron --wires clenched her wrists
link2 HUM|OM

Weekend Lessons Learned: [Feb. 3rd, 2008|08:13 pm]
Rusty Satellites
how to eat Mango
      -eat slowly while hungry
    -stop once full

The Way cannot be attained, but destroying ego helps!
Water flows smoother without
selfish rocks
             Senseless obstructions
             The Way will find a way!
HAHAHA-----contentment brings laughter,
                        not anger, depression, calmness

A spritz of chemicals rebounding from the table, sparkling in the beatific afternoon:  Light bringing beauty to Anything.
    Best love is the love of a single sparked wick--lighting many others while losing nothing of its own.  Love which is
    diminished by incorporation is capitalistic (gain comes from loss)

The Best love hardly feels like love at all---Imagine That!
                Have I felt it? 
                   hard to say...
Some already see me as realized
    Poor fools!
They know not what I have done
    bless-ed children!
knowing that it makes no difference. 
      (far beyond me)

Life is a messy  (what was I going to write here??)

What's so great about owls?

Portraits [Jan. 17th, 2008|08:06 pm]
Rusty Satellites
"The creatures of the air have their knowledge and know their times and seasons because they, unlike man, are in the order of their life and have not perverted that order by REASON."
-James Joyce (emphasis my own)

What I have been working on: 

Prayer # 235 [Jan. 6th, 2008|05:01 pm]
Rusty Satellites
A heroic couplet on HISTORY:
New Names
Same Old Things

What do I want?
SAINTHOOD- now and forever,
all else is gone from my mind
By any other name would be Buddhahood
(thornless, formless, flowers)
today is the day--------------------------------------Start Walking

I AM NR (N. irvana R. ealized)
either that or nothing (which is that)
Not a transformation but a realization
not another dream but a waking up
not a destruction of ego, but an understanding of truest self

Wiping off the soot of the world, ready to buckle down & get serious, LOOK OUT! 
My brow is furrowed, knuckles polished et white,
the blessed child, the collective lineage of
boddhisattva authors
let me be the final one. 
W, oeful S. amsara 
F. inding D. harma
J. apa J. aya

trying till I ont af tuh try nah more
no steps backwards
link2 HUM|OM

Should auld acquaintance be forgotten? [Dec. 31st, 2007|04:40 pm]
Rusty Satellites
Has some devil held me home these past few days so that my legs would become weary and my dreams penetrable?  (I know, in "reality" it was from love of a brother who I did not want to leave at home) This is what happens to me.  

---------------------And here is the new year a-comin'
                              when something always seems to

I have not yet begun to accept the Middle Way--
                                           after all this time!  (haw haw...time)
Still too obsessed with EXTREMISM & NON-OBEDIANCE
wake up, you dolt

some people were born to suffer
accept it
       no use moving so  s l o w l y

Shower Blossoms:
    1. Arguing Buddha is better than Christ is just arguing semantics
    2. The entire English language is a koan
    3. Everything I do has a reason
Nothing I've done was reasonable
      (explains #2 --Extract reasonable
                                   from reason
I'm not able...har har)
Prepare, and lo'
BEHOLD the Golden light Vehicle

Resolution 1:
    Strop trying to force on a halo
Resolution 2:
    Never allow "life-living" to interfere with
"God-loving" (get priorities straight)
Resolution 3:
    Don't worry about purity--it is pure
    Don't worry about darkness-- it is dark
    Don't worry about emptiness-- it is empty
    Don't worry aobut thatness-- it is that
    Don't worry about sameness--
                 It's All the Same Thingness

Somehow I am an apple in God's endless Eyes. Praised Be. 

I do this, I do that (all a dream) [Dec. 29th, 2007|11:39 pm]
Rusty Satellites
To realize that the whole wide world is imaginary/an illusion/a visionary blossom
not enough

You've got to Understand that the whole wide world is imaginary/an illusion/a visionary blossom
all you can do is sit in your rocking chaer
while all those  who say they realize
continue to live and drive and have orgasms. 

eventually I'll Know that
Realizations and Understandings
are just arbitrary concepts/
visionary blossoms
in air

The final step is to turn around and help others
begin working backwards


O, me of little faith
surprised by answered prayers
Belly full
Heart much fuller
                  Prayer at St. Martins:
     "take me wherever You are,
whether that be in Louisville, Boulder, India, New York,
Boo Bork, Halifax, Durhammy, eh
it matters not!"  Ground of all being, that's where it's at
(of course, You are everywhere, I realize that...
but I'm tired of waiting! I'll seek out
Yr messengers if you won't send them to me)
I am a sad old man, arguing with the very Pits of myself

amen/ om"

(no subject) [Dec. 18th, 2007|07:24 pm]
Rusty Satellites
a gift by obligation is more like a curse

(no subject) [Dec. 15th, 2007|10:50 am]
Rusty Satellites
What the morning brought:
Intuitive understanding of the etymology for "breakfast"

16 hours, sleeping in a bed. 

Lowest Condition of Life: [Dec. 10th, 2007|07:41 pm]
Rusty Satellites
So many pointless things hold me back, when all I really want to do is to leave everyone and spend the rest of my life as a wandering NEMO
USELESS THINGS USELESS NOTHINGS ITS ALL THE SAME I love no one but my youngest brother, whom I love more than my life. 

My hope in posting this online is that I will get some peace.  Most people have no idea how honestly I mean what I say. 

Winter penance:
DAY AFTER CHRISTMAS: 24 hour silence

(no subject) [Dec. 9th, 2007|03:55 pm]
Rusty Satellites
Thoughts while taking a shower:

Is musk produced from a need?
If the need is satisfied, does it stop?
That would mean---wants are satisfied on physical levels
originating from mind
Reminds me of mirror glasses, which reflect things upside down
the brain stops flipping after three days,
and things are upright again

People will never be alright until they stop insisting they are all right
Neither Darwin nor Fundamental Christians are ALL right
Neither abortionists nor non-abortionists are ALL right
-Socrates, right? 

Thoughts while taking a bath

Are there absolutes?
An answer for irony:

Irish Wisdom: [Nov. 25th, 2007|11:52 pm]
Rusty Satellites
Canker is a disease of plants
Cancer one of animals

Dharma Notes [Nov. 25th, 2007|09:26 pm]
Rusty Satellites
Man must understand stillness
of tress
if planning on survival
----great meditative bark which never moves
yet grows
what a vision of GOD
here I am--one year later
       dumb'n'all--new drug for

Luke lays his finger on the page
to draw straight n & k lines &
writes beautifully for his age

Supertramping is unavoidable at this point--
attacked from all sides!  I will give a Marianka
more sweetness (this was Olenin's mistake)
Wisdom had:
1. everything which exists is a contradiction
2. fear is destroyed by Understanding
3. knowing and Understanding are contradictions
(watch out for subtlety)
Tolstoy wrote about tramping in Russia 1862
Joyce in Ireland 1916
Getting caught up in names is dangerous
know that it's all the same thing
realize that it's all the same thing
Understand that it's all the same thing

Notes from Sadhana Circle:
 contentment destroys ego
    joy of guitar w/out compliment- not shyness
    but still...writing--now that's the new trip

                               *draw courage from divine contentment*
IAMWITHGODANDGODISWITHME (inseperable, naturally) --> destroys fears
           respect denotes seperateness
           have no expectations--that is the thing
recognize inner courage always and already

heart shielding membrane
being here is was my choice forever
       courage is yours, stemming from very being
Judas, too, had his place
Hitler, too, had his place
I, too, have my place (well, there it is--it's not me, afterall)


Dharma Notes [Nov. 13th, 2007|07:43 pm]
Rusty Satellites
11/13- Sick Day Meditation
Instant Soon-As-Sat Down Understanding:
Body mimics the Great Year Yuga Cycles- passage to higher states requires suffering by way of destructive cleansing (especially of Kali forces)
Brought thoughts to Colorado and was amazingly able to chant despite sickness and experienced celestial buzz of brain bees

(research Paramhansa Yogananda's theories of the Vedic Yuga Cycle (also called "The Great Year") if interested)
At last, the beautiful crumpled and arid Earth below me, shiny, metallic cities and snow capped brown ones--Small settlement white specs-is that me down there? the orange one? Even the wiggle of wing gives me peace.  Curving level lines like a map (the certain kind).  Winding Rockbeds.  How Sad!; these cities. 

The sun's a-settin' This is what I'm gonna sing [Nov. 12th, 2007|08:09 pm]
Rusty Satellites
I feel the blues a-comin'
I wonder what the blues'll bring

great serpentine fog mass slinks through shiny city below, twinkling under moon cup--orange streetlights muffled in surrealist dream set against the sun-rise sky which billows out, folds from rainbow as I gaze in awe at the anticipated curvature of the Earth which shivers my skull bone and reminds me of shape and now a dense mass of mountainous clouds like an apocalyptic earth marshmallow and pilot swerves to avoid ghostly winds and gives me beat view of Orion hunter who watches over me and I his bear-ish compadre and he knows how sad winter can make me so comes only then.
we escape goldenandrainbow city, heading towards skyway of mountain peaks and monasteries, clouds which look nicer from above so like unsullied snow--I watch wings dip and sway along the edge of the Earth, running perpendicular over there, the sun cresting over from Louisville as if to bid me farewell--it's coming up now and lights slowly blinking away--evaporating; the wing divided the Earth, orange experience from the dark unknown, going into the deeper blue west--just like early morning sunrise from roof after having read Orwell all night- stayedup the whole times out there some spermy cloud on the horizon everything gettin so blue and black future clouds--this unkown thing drives the romantic me insanely happy-feverish as Dostoevsky would have said; how I mis him...and then literally merges into NOTHING...her e comes void. 

Now the sky is alight and dewy but the ground still is lost in shawdos

Was walking down hallways and realized nothing left here for me, all young people too dead beat but not beat, not dig dig so I stop to worry and start dancing with the ring-bing bop and the shippity shang doo and spinning wheel shing-ading a fing a shing a ling a shawp and no cares no-how and don't even think of what I say because every body is so dead beat and then everyone in car is old man and just beat except young boy who disgusts me for some reason which I don't explain to myself
Isnt that I write this proof enough? 
it would be better to stop all connections, to lock myself in mind-room and there is no key of course, but swallow it anyways
that is, no more intimate friendships
yes, me done so long
people will read and think, oh, intimate ok, must mean sumpin else
I know that destroying all this to go off to a mountain is just a new page in the same old unreal DREAM
and that those connections will just as soon or later fade away into cobweb of dreamspace
but i have to go
mostly I am sick
and wrote this down
If anyone really loved anybody they would stop talking to them altogether and lay down a bed a mindful dharba grass for their weary eyes to lay upon

if I could change my quote I would:
-alex supertramp

cept I've got neither bullet nor gun
and I'm too blue too look for one
link2 HUM|OM

This is how I play my HARP [Nov. 8th, 2007|08:07 pm]
Rusty Satellites
Does anyone know a 30 year old man named Michael H. Polk? 

He has arthritis. 

He might have stolen my backpack.

When I got it back the only thing missing was a collection of essays and poems by Ralph Waldo Emerson.    

Days are funny, but long. 
link2 HUM|OM

Has anyone noticed? [Nov. 7th, 2007|12:57 am]
Rusty Satellites
Louisville air is unbearably thick. 

If you know what you're going to do, why do it?
link2 HUM|OM

Notes and personal piece for English class [Oct. 25th, 2007|09:52 pm]
Rusty Satellites
A rug has no real use-no one weeps for want of a rug
but to have it pulled from under you...,well
that's different.
(what is there to say)

"As if all depended on this particular up or down"
And, yes, exactly- jus visionary blossoms
in the air
even the air is a blossom
in its own right

Don't end stories
or draw conclusions
Keep writing until you're DONE
(this happened to me and it's a great feeling to have when writing- the feeling that you did not end the story that it was just time for it to stop and puttered to a satisfying halt right before your eyes, like your turning to switch the engine and it dies before you even get in the key. )

link3 HUM|OM

TO REITERATE [Oct. 13th, 2007|04:23 pm]
Rusty Satellites
Be concerned only with duty
Turn the wheel & don't bother nobody

Memory of Buddhist prayer from "The Dharma Bums"
Imagine everyone you know or don't know evil or good lined up in a row and focus on each one individually with this prayer
(NAME)is equally empty
(NAME)is equally to be loved
(NAME)is equally a coming Buddha

Do this for your mother, your father, yr teacher, yr brother, yr bully, yr friend, yr victim, yr damsel, yr enemy, yr lover, yr ex-lover, yr anonymous companion at the bus stop, yr endless visions of servicemen and women, yr mother when she makes you clean your room, yr father when you ask him for money, yr sisters, yr musicians, yr poets, yr philosophers, yr artists, yr butchers, yr loggers, yr construction workers, yr POLICE, yr Muslims, Christians, Hindus, Atheists, Agnostics, Wiccans, yr Taoists, yr Jainists, yr Buddhists, yr guru, yr booru from the 1960's, yr Red Russian, yr Chinamen, yr opean, yr American, yr North American, yr spiders, yr centipedes & flies, yr deer, yr squirrels, yr rabbits, yr friend from grade school who fucked you up, yr redneck in his pickup yelling obscene things at you, yr solider, yr politician, yr lawyer, yr president, yr telemarketer, & anyone else I may have forgotten or left out.

Lastly, yourself.

link1 HUM|OM

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