that's what i say in my book

Queen Interferonai Nexus Troi is depressed, depressing -like inverting herself, tucking herself into her skin, smaller and smaller until she is a ball of skin, only the eyes and the smile presenting themselves, billboarding their happiness at feeding off the self, racing towards singularity and meanwhile, the WorldView goes on...Bernie Maddoff goes to jail, Lindsay Lohan (nice breasts) is on the lam and people fight to be America's Next Model. Naught to do but start sweeping (nice bill paying, dishwashing, trashtakingouting, papershredding, guineapigfeeding, bookkeeping, speculating--that the above are real verbs, verbaging). Feeling like making out with Bernie Madoff as he tries to spring spiritually from his sterile, white cell or at least imagining touching Lindsay's breasts 'cause I don't want to seem gay so I'll stay straight. Walking, walking, walking out in the woods; walking the sine curve between all the bullshit spraying at me from the World View, from the Television Matrix Maximii, sweeping like the Sage, who cares about the Original Subject: Queen Interferon's Depression, warping Space-Time. From the One, the Two, from the Two, the Three, when things aquired names-- He who knows does not speak, he who speaks does not know. I am beloved, clanking and rocking to the Music of the Spheres... 'Hi ya, Queenie!' Will Rogers back to the world bipolar opposite Spite of Anxiety poofandwhocares*