There is a point in each book
(Shirley: There usually exists more than one point in a book.)
at which the book opens itself.
The pages read carry enough weight to hold the place of the reader.
The pages to be read still hold enough weight to refrain from rushing the reader.
How like a plateau con una magnĂfica vista?
Struggle to enter, feel each moment equal, rush to return to the lowlands.
How like The American Dream?
Establish an idea, experience the genius, rush to return to base.
Buy the ticket, take the ride,
motherfucker.
How opposite The American Dream?
Climb up Appalachia, sully thyself in the great valley, fall from the Rocky Mountain High.
California tumbles into the sea.
Blame the San Andreas Fault, naturally.
this is where i enter text
20110502
Avail Thyself to Interpretation
text entered by dusty.rhodes circa 4:33 PM
Labels: ruminations
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- dusty.rhodes
- "He's just this guy, you know?"
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