Folded thought (ramblings) of the day:

Okay, I'm feeling a little stream of consciousness today.  
Hope that's okay with you.  Expect a few highly suspect 
punctuation choices.  Okay, here goes...

Is there a rhyme to this reasoning?  Some criminal element 
that keeps time to our abstraction... that fights the wind 
to stay alive?  Shielding our expectations.  Floating with 
the disappearance, watching the unfolding... the stop-gap 
measures, unnerving the ritual, spilling drinks into the 
lap of modern man.  

Left to discover the bitter meaning of faith.. of betrayal.. 
and sudden loyalty.  Have we all gone astray?  Or are we 
just left holding the bag.. marking time with deep-threated 
notches.  Crimes against our humanity, reflections of our 
souls.  Circus mirrors and calling cards.  A refined 
transgression.

Asking force-fed questions with no answer, that keep us 
from asking the real questions.  "Did Oswald act alone?"  
Does anybody really care.  I know the person who killed 
a co-worker of mine and her entire family acted alone.  
Does that make me feel better?  What do you think?

Gone to seed.  Cresting at the moment of fulfillment... 
to be washed under.. seeping into the floorboards.  To lie 
among the tiny dwellers of the underneath.  Getting along 
without the benefit of leaving.  Rooted in this maze.  
Sticking to your guns.  Firing flares and taking cover.  

The right to life in a culture of death.  A target missed. 
Sorely.  Resistance.. tinkered, tailored.  A mouthful 
of ruin.  Paid for and presented... for your approval.