i kidnapped my friend wendy with my 4WD | commonly referred to, very commonly referred to as the balmoral mobile, off to mole creek | yes, there is such a place in tasmania | full of town bikes wearing far too much stretch fabric | what was to be a short & pithy breakfast in the freezing sunlight, cold overlooking an aesthetic stream turned into a 3 hr dialectic of human behaviour in relationships, workplaces, toxic workplaces, toxic people n how fantastically intuitive & intelligent we both are! | wendy & i are so good for each other because always after catching up with each others egos | we feel like we are the best humanity can throw at idiots | it usually takes about 2 days to crash land to earth n discover i am just as idiotic as everyone else | but heh . . . hanging onto the asteriod for 2 days is so damn buzzie
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by the way my youngest sister had a chicken called wendy . . .
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the poetry of reality | tied with ribbons of chaos | and bound with expectant vision | is knifed with the interaction and the fantasy of meaning | finally killing the equilibrium of existence + garry w conroy-cooper
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