I am a communist. Masks are nothing new to me. When we were doing this stuff together around collage age shut up what were they doing now. Le women. I have been here before. No one knows who is an Officer of the Deluge and fucking shit hoped one was not fucking you impregnating you get out of my way you’re him, it’s him, we were waiting for you.

It’s a part. It’s poverty porn. Everyone wants me to say it’s art and journalism and poetry and written in Motel Six I hear this stuff day and night I can drown them out. David does not read comments, Okay, Stop Fingers waving in front of your stimmy eyes but what is it driving me nutz I am denied access everywhere I go. I want out of this car. Dramatic Pluralism. Binary pluralism. Dragons. One side digs in. The other side is already dug in deep times ten. The New York Times is a cubicle articles are protected speech It’s Gotta lot Of Suits in There. There. There is a there there. The building is cold and fuck toy, bitch. I am a bitch I know that, too. A HorribleTheyCannot say I paid for access when I did, indeed, buy a subscription. Brooks is a challenge. I am glad he is there. We all chose sides. I am under no obligation to anyone, and that means Comments, Too. I claim truth to censorship. Writing is all I have left. I do not push back because, baby, I’m writing. This monologue reflects religion is to worship writing because it saves me like MY Appalachia. Brooks knows. He’s smart. Clever. I am autistic. I go Umm Wait A Minute. I am a high-functioning autistic. I will run into the woods like lightning in your gut. I know woods. I am not your enemy okay, get back. I am not allowed Publication. Comment Moderation will SO become a ha ha. A headache, Overlords. Kook Around. I was just Castrated Metaphorically Claiming Deeper Human Realities and Armed Security Officers when their disclosure gives boiler plate access (this includes comments) and then, they kick you out into the sea do not tow their party lines at me why am I, a radical LeftCensorshipDroneShut Up. Poet. We are going home. They want to hear from you, it’s marketing. This is Actually Social Media. I’m 12. Photography is sane I do oddity what oddity like the one walking down le street. I told you it’s not pretty. Stay away.