Sometimes I have to be witty, since I am not that humorous. Let me see whether I can try heavy handed humour.
Is what I write true?
Believe what you will, doubt what you wont,
Says I, stiffly, angered;
I tell no lies, except when necessary-
to mislead, misguide and cast doubt on truth;
what I write is the ---damned truth
to which some deities may swear, others not,
but says I’ts the truth, much stranger than fiction.
The Problem with Conspiration theories in practice is-
the mind’s imagination is too wild,
too ready to see monsters of molehills and mice,
too ready to fit each detail to imaginations image.
Paranoia is schizophrenic,
Words too hard to interprete simply.
Come to think of it, I am lonely. I am singing into the wind, my voice, loud as it is, ignored. Yeah, I know, my subject matter is hard, I write of poetry and such things, and of course I am gay and am writing as gayuganda and signing as so.
Went to Iwaya’s blog. Found accolade there which made me green with envy. Wish it was not so lonely in cyber world.
Painter, if you hear me, can we make a tryst somewhere?
Its been a long and lonely day and I am tired. Ignore what you cannot. Especially the whining.