i've been looking into this for some time, i.e. the appreciation of my glass of blackbeard (whiskey and coke) for some time, the moments i find tedious and the moments i find liberating, "funnily" enough when i watch videos where free speech is championed challenged or simply declined, i am always bound to find an ad nauseam continuum... then i flick over to some music channel, and say the simplest counter-buddhist mantra: aaah.*

i can understand freedom of speech:
when you sing...
when you actually speak?
      not so much...
   i like the idea of the freedom
of thought (cogitatio liber)
and the whole freedom of speech
is bewildering...
                    the freedom of speech
advocates are like birds that
find it, "necessary" to chirp...
             there's no delay button
with them...
they're always chirping -
i'm starting to see a fetish of treating
free-speech advocates as
     cognitive claustrophobes -
freedom of speech is nothing
short of cognitive claustrophobia...
i'm fine with a freedom of speech
when it comes to onomatopoeia -
the growl and grr...
                    i prefer the audacity of
thought...
                  than the unsatisfying
feeding of a waggling tongue
insomnia...
                       i checked once,
walking down the street...
you can actually waggle your
tongue faster sideways than
               up-down up-down...
     after a while, with my mouth
closed... that tongue of mine,
really... really felt like a foreign object....
regardless of the image of god...
   i really want to see the image
of the tongue in the realm of thought...
     sorry tony podesta...
  why did he decapitate their heads
off and put them in a pose worthy of
your sculpture...
    i'd keep their head on and left
them in a pose, implying:
self-*******... for kicks;
   where's the fun in doing the originals?
see... the true relationship
with freedom abides with
abiding by a freedom of thought,
a blank page of "defeat" and some goose
blood...
                 let the idiot do the talking:
i prefer the whole devilish pact
of: making idle hands... agitated.
a freedom of speech soon becomes
either sensationalism,
  or regurgitation...
        it's never about mining new
horizons of fancy,
    latex, spandex, naked ballet...
                you name it:
          a chance to see
imagination's true fertile potency,
freedom of speech becomes
        a humming sound in the end,
a drifting-away sort of sound,
ambience,
a kitchen in the dead of night...
               with the refrigerator tone
death trying to write an M,
wiggle wiggle, sine cosine,
wiggle wiggle, sine wiggle,
   cosine wiggle wiggle:
shpa! getti!
   ode to ol' charlie for killing the hippie...
can't beat the helter skater -
but we *** (as forest would
have said, grumpy) out
               chance of a spaghetti tangle.