the other day I was thinking and realized that even if Bush wins he won't come to my house and tell me that everything I've ever done was wrong.
I mean this is the extent to which I've gotten myself worked up over the election as though the universe will change into that place where god throws most of his creatures into the lake of fire and I will have a boot on my ass telling me to eat dirt the rest of my life if Kerry loses.
must keep perspective.
as is I'm in San Francisco and none of my friends are interested in sending me to hell or saving my soul and in the long run I will always be able to think what I please even if it gets me killed. really if death is the worst option there is not so much to worry about. more horrifying are the fates worse than death that my imagination spins up out of the abyss which in the end is only its own membrane thrust blindly up from the earth to endure gods know what until it can recede again.
I mean I think that's what the basements in all my dreams represent. it's only horrible because I disappear there but otherwise what is it but skin really. skin lacerated and caressed.
yeah the election has weirded me out.