That's where I was when I got inside to audit Nicole Wallace's "Dateline White House" (or some-such) 4 O'clock Class. I was all HIGH from being HIGH and what the fuck could possibly go 'worng' ? She delivered the usual Blither and Blather Intro but among the Political Dissonance was a rather SHARP Note on State Sec Pompeo's Clip Board. Written on a yellow legal pad page was "5,000 troops to Columbia". My High Heart got sucked out into the Void. I sat stunned. I thought ~~
It just won't fucking END.
There is this morbid obesity of Depression : "morbid" because of the Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young's "Helpless", and "obesity" because of the MASS of "Impossibility", the One that figures "It can't POSSIBLY get any WORSE". Piss-Poor thinking that fuels my, already, degenerative Bi-Polarity, the BAD "Pole", the One of Superior Negativity, the One that discharges Cruelty as Grotesque BEAUTY, the THAT One.
One word = Venezuela Nam.
Columbia was the Subterfuge.
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