HELLO. NEVER EAT APPLES UNLESS YOU CAN BYTE BACK. THANK U. -:- Onto his board he climbed, willing and ready for anything. What sort of future lied ahead? He could not keep his thoughts hammered down to the old, rotted equiptment he used to communicate, and the best of the crop quickly left his mind to enter a lone state in unexplored territory. But what he did get down in time was chilling enough to change the scope of life for hundreds of faithful listeners, directly and indirectly. It was here when he realized that the earth is composed of cycles of revolutions, and so is the concept of time. Where hate can breed, so can passion and love. And so on the other side of the barrier, the flowery side, he'd hear a dj hammering tunes over the radio and ponder about the place Somewhere Else where people were dancing to the same music he was listening to. They would be dancing, as he sat thinking about the world's revolutions and confusions. All this got too out of control for him, so his mind shifted out of this land and into more touching but clear subjects. And thus is the Politics of Life. We can become a media if we open up. Until then, we must live in a shell. He sat there and thought about this for a second, and thought how foolish life really can get. That is, nothing is so serious as being foolish. When one can let the body break into rhetortical spasms of loose energy, there is not set formula on what will result. Such is the Seriousness of Nature. And now, hammering away, he could not stop the nagging question. What happens next? Would he survive? C'mon, it's not over. He knew it. But she didn't. She was at work, making money. He was crooning about stupid subhuman topics such as getting drunk and laid all in one night.(!) Knowing that it didn't work, he could say that they didn't stand a chance. But he knew that there's no giving in, and when push comes to shove, you've gotta fight for what you love. So getting up, he connected his apparatus to the equiptment. The old wooden fixture was hot now, and steam was emerging from the sides. A warning message flashed. "Stop making sense. Reapeat. Stop making sense." And thus would be the end of his world. There would be no metamorphasis;the change was complete. But the love and passion drew him with an electricity that could only be described as fury. After the connections were made, and ground control cleared, he was ready. He would be a star. Stars don't fall out of the sky. But then the forshadowing would be complete. And he could not face his life changing as much as so. He was away from her, and anything he tried would be in vain. He wasn't going to pull the plug just yet. Even though he had nothing to live for, it would be more interesting to keep going and watch it all drip away. So now, he stood up, on top of the steaming machinery, and plugged in his mike. The system was roaring now, and the blood in his head was gushing to and fro. This is it, he thought. I'm gonna do it! But not just yet. He'd do it, but then nothing would be left. "Stop making sense. Warning code red. Stop making sense." If he was to do it, he'd have to pull it off now. The future shock that he would face coming back would be devastating, but what the fuck, he thought, you only get one damn life, make the best of it and learn to rock and not to roll. So he turned the switch to full, and screamed. The tension was high as the words to his love song went through his head, a passionate tune to be soon heard round the world, in every corner where life pounds. But just then his guitar caught air and wind, and the true meaning to love was revealed to him. He reached deep into the mike, and screamed with all his body and soul, the most utterable and knowlegable word: "B00g." -:- Esaelp Llac: Rouf Xis Eno Eerht Eerht Eerht Rouf Eerht Eno Eerht :)