so once again this madness creeps up upon this right brain sentimentality-brutality-fantastical runt of the litter they call it >expression< to disassociate the i from the you and the social organism from this bloody menstrual cycling decay everyone wants to \plug up the hole/ with plastic and dysfunstion and darkness and poetry and i never said this hat shade was anything more than a tool to hide, not a social statement, not provocation .. this is who i am ... not an artistic license to kill, i am already diseased in this >art< death ... AIDS with a lesser cause for social deconstruction ... when you notice the beautiful blue of death as the cold creeps ... more than death itself, more than love, the patterns the colors the beauty the pain the art whore dying living breathing of it all on one