Another Long Hone To Transform The Drone. Ah, Such Potentialities. Poetry, Art.

Honing into the homing beacon that beckons home. All around I see my such sprite alight with life. Through all strife, gripes, and all wanna be types. Would rather do without than make do, undone the much ado about no things. Boring. I never get bored, much adored, life isn't promised, it's a given, so dig in to given righteous living. There is no rest for the wicked and the righteous don't need it. No need to concede a hit.

Spur forth the splendor of the tremor and full on full body restless leg syndrome! To learn to walk again.... and to talk again I have a kink in my tongue, my full body tourettes syndrome from the heart! A story yet untold that would fix the spine! The grimaced robotic drones in cartoon costumes. Who wants to come out and play!? Is there any one on earth as a man to give my final report to, to understand what I'm trying to say. Who is the authority!? Don't worry - NO ONE IS IN CONTROL!

If they could only hear this music, or see this play, read this story.. oh! I know there is a great chance for it. Must dance for it! Put the body through it's full rotation through dance! Find the sore parts and dance them out! Unbind all the stressors through dance! And how scary is that kids!? Not spooked or impressed by so so called modern culture in a post modern world. Hell we don't even have a better word than post yet to depict an evolution of our current state! Pah! Back to the drawing board!