I was born during a flash flood in the muggy Texas summer. Born to two Methodist ministers and torn through the machinery of salvation, I feel repulsed to know its just another business all about its weight in gold. I see time hasn’t changed in these edited history books. People remain the same; the hierarchy is a dark dynasty, then the sheep follow the Judas goat, while normal people know about the finales of television shows. I haven’t felt more on edge since I was seven and beating my cousin with a baseball bat on my birthday in a backyard. I can’t explain who I am because of this cesspool I swim in, I’m just not as aware as I should have been. If I were to say that I slept in a mansion on a furry rug, would that make me distasteful? Or, if I slept on my friend’s couch scraping quarters out of the cushions, would that mean I’m a waste of time and space? I’m not the voice of the doomed, or the common obscure. I am the poster boy for a reeling generation, one of dormant aptitude and hasty immoral decisions. I barely trust my eyes and remain constantly vigilant, open to the road and in search of visions or hope, whichever comes most. I’ve made love to the most beautiful women, and bloodied an enemy’s nose all while medicated on high doses of…whatever was cheap or free at the moment… I’ve spent days in jail, listening to the train’s yells wondering the next time I’ll be free to write or smoke. I’m not as important as I once perceived myself to be; therefore, I vomit the beast out of me as consistently and cohesively as my grammar allows it to seem. I am not the thief I once was, stealing the brains of young children and over-priced clothes. I am a cold heartless man with motor oil coursing through my bones… I’m sick of EM! All of EM! High-horsed coattail riders with neither the scrotum nor skills to envision such a revolution; the sad trend of being someone who’s previously lived threw imitation. We’re regressing, as a society, BREATHE LITERATURE & ART, and question authority. Libraries will burn if we fall further unaware.