Shackleton School, Ashby, Massachusetts, U.S.A

Stream of consciousness, A unedited journey into my head after fifteen minutes of free writing. I start with a thought and follow it into the next and so on, spiraling in every direction.


The end of Lord of The Flies is like a dream, nothing adds up but no one cares. Got me thinking, “What if we are all living a dream, none of this means anything, its all for nothing.

But I don’t want to think this, I have worked too hard now, gone too far. I wish I could say what I mean and what I feel, but I cant. Things move too fast, like a river, a stream, brown, the color of mediocrity, karaoke in France, tea in Austria, brains blown out in Scotland? Why? No time to think, just do, hope that changes. I pray not to head that call and do or die for a stupid cause! We are all actors in a big play, a desire to go to the next act without rehearsing!

A dog outside, dead in the sun, Next to the tree that is living! “No sir, that dog is far from dead, it is the dog in your memory that is long gone! How can you define love, death, happiness, what does it all mean? Am I happy, do I know what that feels like! Decay and life so close together, I finally appreciate art, lifting me away from the rotting stench of the destruction of culture set by AMERICA!

My Hand hurts but that assures me that I am not in a dream! My writing grows more erratic, the stars slide overhead and the telescope is broken.
WHAT THE HELL DO I WANT?
Does Love EXIST? DO I FEEL IT? OR IS IT JUST COMPASSION?

I want to be all I can be, but what is that?

POP
BANG
WIFFLE
As meaningless as most things I hear. But why do they have no real importance?

I want chains, freedom scares me as much as love does. Force thoughts out like a factory, I feel no rage, I am happy, today will be weird!

More ~more~ like some insane Mozart I write into oblivion! Onwards Friends!
More paper, I feed the economy, flies on the window, flies on the pig! Big difference, no one cares cus no one sees! Open your eyes and see what I see, beauty is there and love is close. Throw down the concrete and plant the trees. Dust specks like golden thoughts, similar to the curtain in front of Ralph’s Eyes.