arthur.

duders,
i got up early and started working.
the A*-crack a.m. attack is how i
combat insomnia and lonesome lamentation.
that's that morning mourning dove
push-and-shove from up-above...
teleport on the in-the-works work:

yeah.
oh, don't worry, neighbors-
that IS an eleven-point rack.
uh-huh.
and y'all already know how much more complicated
that illustration has to get before i can consider it ready.
ready for what?
good question.
ready for anything, i guess...
i'm on that rising sunshine saturday morning sh!t.
i didn't get very much done, yet;
but i'm heating up all my irons
in a whole holy butt-holey buttload of different
hard style hot fire furnaces and forges,
so any progress is pretty good.
i mean,
you've got to strike whilst the iron is hot,
but those jauns takes forever to heat up.
lightning is in the forecast,
but not in the sky, guys....
my hot iron is sanctified and fortified and electrified,
a superconducting lodestone of animal magnetism
and activated participation.
the thing is, that takes time.
and taking time is like taking it easy.
and that's not invited to the house party...
so,
while i'm watching and waiting and seeing,
i'm spreading myself thinner-
the same volume of volume is in effect,
but it's being basted and buttered and blasted
across a far greater area.
attenuated attentions an' that.
everybody gets a little,
nobody gets enough.
awwwwwwww.
***********
the roads are crowded,
the restaurants are full,
there's no room at the inn,
however,
there's nothing but space over here.
a big dumb void where there's empty everything,
except the satchel of sauce, y'heard?
long nights,
hard styles,
and jam-packed places that only serve to
accentuate the underaccessibilty of being
a worthy woodsly goodfellow meting out
doses of just-be-dopeness amongst the mountains.
it's never easy,
it's always happening;
never quiet, never soft.....