i can't tell you why

[bed head]

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You're not supposed to say things to sound sage. It isn't communicating when your points are about casting yourself in a certain light. Leaving a subject, while insisting you are on it, wanting to avoid being skewered like a butterfly in someone's collection, reducing whole populations to caricature, refusing to come out of a protective persona you adopted as a toddler to get along inside the conditions back then... oh... on and on... are all error... all delusion trying to reinforce itself... all off topic, not applicable, unreal, immature, a waste of time. You might even think you can still recognize beauty.

I suppose, in a pitiable sense, that is sort of true, but you don't know how terrible beauty can be. You don't know how it cracks open your mindscape, injects thunderbolts into your cells, sucks everything wrong out of the air, the land, the sea, the cosmos entered behind your eyes. You can't. You won't go there.

And don't talk to me about appreciation. You mean you like it. Big deal. You don't let it hurt you. You don't see it all the way through. You don't use it to evaporate in front of truth. You just let sociopaths use it against you, against everyone.

You remind me of the black bear who ran and hid behind a flimsy little salmonberry bush across the pond, wide eyes gleaming in the full moonlight, believing himself to be hidden from me. I laughed and laughed. Dude! Black bear, big as heck! You are, like, SO lucky I'm not someone with a gun.

I know yer acting like I have one, but....
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