Words to the Cosmos

Hunter S. Thompson…

// February 22nd, 2005 // No Comments » // Uncategorized

Hunter S. Thompson… Posted by Hello

// February 22nd, 2005 // No Comments » // life the universe and everything

Hunter S. Thompson… Posted by Hello

// February 22nd, 2005 // No Comments » // life the universe and everything

Hunter S. Thompson… Posted by Hello

Hunter S. Thompson (Text from Tribute Box)

// February 21st, 2005 // No Comments » // life the universe and everything

Hunter S. Thompson (Text from Tribute Box)
Current mood: Like I’m about to Act Out!

So sorry Hunter. We take it as it comes, but you never did. You never could. Genius is never a kind mistress, never a delicate taskmaster. Yet once we’ve bedded the whore, that damnable daemon whore. Once we have tasted that infusible nectar between her sticky thighs we’ve sealed our fate. Sealed us forever and always to be on the OUTSIDE. Even as we stand in the spotlight, as we stand at the award table, as we pontificate behind podiums. Behind #2 pencils we push, push, push ‘til the nibs break and our fingers can’t let go and our teeth gnaw into the yellow finish in a nervous tick to gain entrance but the mental imagery transmutes into words too fast for human hands to compose until all that is on the paper is a long graphite scrawl, little peaks and valleys indicating some Cyrillic cipher and droplets of overblown whisky and blurs of ash to leave your indelible mark in the aether of the worlds. I thank you for your effort. Carry on.

Hunter S. Thompson (Text from Tribute Box)

// February 21st, 2005 // No Comments » // life the universe and everything

Hunter S. Thompson (Text from Tribute Box)
Current mood: Like I’m about to Act Out!

So sorry Hunter. We take it as it comes, but you never did. You never could. Genius is never a kind mistress, never a delicate taskmaster. Yet once we’ve bedded the whore, that damnable daemon whore. Once we have tasted that infusible nectar between her sticky thighs we’ve sealed our fate. Sealed us forever and always to be on the OUTSIDE. Even as we stand in the spotlight, as we stand at the award table, as we pontificate behind podiums. Behind #2 pencils we push, push, push ‘til the nibs break and our fingers can’t let go and our teeth gnaw into the yellow finish in a nervous tick to gain entrance but the mental imagery transmutes into words too fast for human hands to compose until all that is on the paper is a long graphite scrawl, little peaks and valleys indicating some Cyrillic cipher and droplets of overblown whisky and blurs of ash to leave your indelible mark in the aether of the worlds. I thank you for your effort. Carry on.