Folded Thought of the Day:


We are all stealing fine drops.  Misting our eyes.  Fleeing 
from the center.  Edging out the mask of serenity... of brutal 
disguise.  We are rapidly approaching the ultimate breach of 
contract.  Making more of coincidence than reasonable.  

I walked that line.  Far too long.  Laying those borders.  
Sizing up.  Surveying territory that just can not be defined.  
Pounding stakes in untouched ground.  The ultimate indiscretion.  
Sounding the call of the new age.  

We are making it all worthwhile.  We are stilling the waters.  
Dropping pebbles and making our own waves.  Funding that one 
great blitzkrieg.  It is all beginning again.  See the little 
creatures run for cover.  Fleeing the scene of the crime.

Walking in line.  Boarding the evacuation bus.  Triple-decker.  
As the darkness blankets this mad dream... silencing the victims.  
All the watches have stopped their spinning.  No time left to 
count.  Seconds.. motion.. all the same tonight.  Moving through 
the layers.  Peeling back the city's secrets.  A slow ride past 
the residents who never got to leave... eye to eye with that 
glass separating you... unsure which of you is on the real 
survival trip.  Catching a glimpse of a puppy tucked inside a 
trench coat, being bottle fed.  You'd cry, but you can't find 
the reason.

And the underground shuttles are nearing their destination.  
As the neon flickers to life.  Pointing the way.. in its 
cryptic way.  Everything proceeding as planned.  We see the 
clues clearly now that everything has been stripped away.  
Far too late for any deciphering to make a difference.  

We knew you came here, we just didn't realize you lived 
here.  And the coupling that was denounced last spring 
is really making a splash this time around.  And there is 
little to say about it now.  

They've got their orders down pat now.  No need to ask 
anymore.  No need to fund any access.  The faces are 
betraying more than sadness.  Lines are running deep 
into the mind.  Weary troubadours have forgotten their 
words.  But they keep singing.  They just don't know 
any better.

How long can this revelry last?


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