The moon draws closed the mind with still quiet and cold wind pushing
branches creaking the ice. Far be it for me to exist quietly with the nonsense
machine humming with the effervescence of human stool. Without the wheel
greased we crawl desperately for notoriety and not solitude. Dawning of a gray
monster cloud with all the dreams of children ready to burst a spirited rain despite
the frigid world. It is not only the pursuit of childishness but to embody the blind
passion and swim in the warmth of freedom and energy. Not to slow the aging but to
exist in the memory of chastity posthaste. Never underestimate the greatness of naps.
Never underestimate the speed of solitude raging across the pavements of the rust belt.
Deteriorating piety but the body laments in a bitter and challenged bloodletting that
baptizes into a new day.
Today's post is dedicated to working men and women who have given years to thankless
companies who subsequently squandered a rust belt inheritance that should provide for
millions of people for generations. The united states of America is undergoing a hysterectomy
so lets drink to the doomed generation. God speed.
http://http://rustbeltradical.wordpress.com/
http://http://www.talesfromtherustbelt.blogspot.com/
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