“Enjoyment in nothing enjoyment on nothing
enjoyment to nothing enjoyment are nothing
enjoyment or nothing enjoyment and nothing”

I like buying things. It is perhaps my favorite activity. The sudden jolt of lightning in my pants holding the latest item. The gentle excitement coiling itself around my neck and tightening to violently sodomize my consciousness when I think of it’s magnificence. The glory of it all. And I dig it, man. I dig it.

Somewhere deep in the center of my mind is a great gaping hole giving way to a bloody rose spilling out green nectar. The substance of souls. And it is this substance that makes it all worthwhile. Being dump-minded is no easy task. Wallowing in the mire of dead dreams I find myself confronted with ineffable realities suggesting the ultimate bliss of total annihilation.

All paths lead back to the beauty of the purchase. That ever flowing green river, the mystic delta, the on-ramp to my future. To your future. Of the advertisement block consciousness all pervasive and good. Warmth of the Father. Of God. With neon and glow-in-the-dark crucifixes. The flag as my blanket. Instead of stars there are dollar signs. And, as I drift slowly into the realm of wet dreams, I listen to the soft whistling of my nervous system.