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****** I got my jeans wet.
I am always so careless.
But just because you are aware of your affliction,
Doesn't mean you can fix it.
(Despite what they may tell you).
I will wear them anyway.
The silver screen makes it seem
Like Fido is the quintessential American dog name.
Fido, what a strong
And mysterious name.
But I have never met a real life Fido.
So what was the birth of Fido?
When was the death?
I should like to meet a Fido.
Please stop naming your pets Oreo.
Glasses are off,
A rare event.
And maybe I can't read the label of my shampoo bottle,
But the soap bubbles gleam like never before,
Miraculous, tiny rainbows seen for the very first time.
And the truth is the government is drugging you
To keep life unexciting,
Blame them for all your miseries.
I am not a therapist!
Just a visionary,
With **** vision.
But only a 20/20 fool
Would see that as an issue.
They've locked themselves in the garden,
Where they twist and turn and torment,
Drifting further from me.
Oh, how I wish I could dance with a daisy,
But they prefer the weeds.
I watched you struggling
In my manicured lawn,
And was overcome with remorse,
And irony.
For we are very much alike.
Both invasive, both destructive,
Both unstoppable.
The only difference:
I am aware of what I am.
And you,
Are just a bug.
Now half broken, but determined
To hold on.
I hit you with the rock again.
The truth comes out with the stars,
And lingers in my dreams 'til daylight,
Then I scrub, scrub, scrub it
Off my mind  
Like oil off my face.
If I had a nickel,
For every time I changed my mind,
Well, I don't know what I would do with
All those nickels,
But now I hate this poem, so
Goodbye
Status update:
Feelin' like Japan in the early 1900s.
Oh how I long to be self sufficient!
Welcome to my hyper mercantilist,
Fascist utopia.
My own little island. Just me.
But this isn't the new wave,
It's the ever present undercurrent.
Even there when you devastate me,
And force me into dependency.
How to prevent
A military autocracy?
All you need is a little
Government secrecy.
Fight your wars with shame and lies,
And watch: people throw up peace signs.
The paradox of patriotic suicide,
Is the elixir of democracy.
I've been lost in the woods for quite some time now,
7 years, give or take.
I am all turned around:
I keep circling back, retracing my steps,
Finding and forgetting new landmarks.
I cannot seem to find the path.
I've changed maps,
At least three times,
But this one is still wrong.
What's this? An empty white paper.
Oh, I see,
This is the perfect map.
With just four fingers Mr. Spock,

You ask way too much of me.
I'd only find true happiness
In the Florida sun,
With dogs abundant,
Free as the wind and waves around me.

— The End —