You Can Only Go To The Snozzle Once Before You Get Glooped

The last three months have been dedicated to repair...
Ample sun, sets up
Eager to wake, ready to shine
Where do the rays go? Do they exist?
If so, why don't they stay in my jar.
The path of the Theravada Buddha leads to blisters, evenmoreso when the path is followed in only one shoe. The sea cliffs of Easter Island, sharing the abutments with my big-headed friends, the rest of the world seems but a fleeting blip on the horizon that everyone knows to be Chile, but in our frame of mind, Chile can't be held as a bother. Not much can.
I stood on the cliffs, whistling and whittling for three weeks straight. Eating a diet of beans and wild grown rice, I sat and contemplated the nature of gravity and waiting to see the Whales emerge and shoot their spouts of mist above the ocean.
I have returned from my path, eager to discuss my journey. I arrived in St. Louis, Missouri eager to visit my Great Aunt Ethel, always a source of inspiration and free seafood dinners. Auntie Ethel only eats seafood, it is one of the the things I admire most about her. For a woman to be so fearless of Mercury after all the sanctified studies, shows the woman loves what she loves. I arrived at her home late on a Monday Afternoon. Aunt Ethel was not the same.
Me: Aunt Ethel I have arrived for a visit. I have so many wonderful things to tell you!
Aunt Ethel: Not now Dartmouth, the economy is crashing.
Me: But that's happened before and will happen again. Institutions must crumble in order to re-invent themselves.
Aunt Ethel: But this is much bigger Darty boy, all Wall Street is crashing all around us, even Fannie May.
Me: Not Fanny May, my favorite purveyor of turtle based confections.
WWW.FANNYMAY.COM
Aunt Ethel: No, the financial institution!

Everything is coming to a crumble and it seems to be the only thing we can talk about. It is beating us financially, but also morally and spiritually. At this rate a life in Shantytowns will be the best thing to happen to the American Conversation since Truman Capote.

Let us go forth, speak in dreams, and fish hot dogs out of garbage cans.

Amen.

I swam into a whale's mouth and y'know what... sorta disappointing.