"Time Enough At Last" Part 1.

Ladies and Gentleman of the council for green, smart, clean, organic, peace, pro-choice, suicide machine, and somewhat diluted ambience of the future. I know nothing of the ways of right and wrong, nor do I challenge those who do. I wake everyday with an opposing stance to the life long fight, and sleep that night fighting the opposition. This is my right, for I am human after all, am I not? I'm an evolved ape, don't hold me accountable.

I am not at home. I am a good 600 miles from it. Los Angeles, the desert queen is dehydrating my brain, cracking the flesh of my lips and feet. Blood pools the tiles of my mind, and my muscles ache from lack of water. The cross I bear is sharp and splintered and I know not of it's origin or species. Lonesome is the heart of I, like the "Omega Man" or Burgess Meredith in The Twilight Zone's, "Time Enough At Last". My dream, only to find that quiet library at the end of existence, and to sit down with a few hundred books on a foggy afternoon, and bid you all goodbye. I don't need much, and for the most part I don't need the things around me. It's all distraction from the "Great Work", and in my Alchemy I suffer in discipline. Is this too much to ask? I don't see why it should be a problem. No one is here. No one is listening. No one really exists in this sphere. That's the way I like it.

All this must be fixed. All things will be mended. All will pass.