The Gonzo Wolf

I’m just now taking a moment to breathe and look at the big picture. I’ve had a few of you subscribe to my nonsense this week, and I thank you for it. I just type what’s on my mind, no matter how bizarre.

Let’s set the tone…

I’m not sure what my plans are for Jim Walker and the Rain Harvester and Wrath’s Lament. Right now, I’m working on music more than anything. I feel as though my talents are needed on the rambling front more than organized fiction. People are scared. They need guidance. They need distractions.

More than anything, they need to get off their collective ass and take to the streets, but I digress.

I do that a lot. Digression. The more you hang around, the more you’ll see it. Sometimes, my digression is better than the chosen subject!

I haven’t looked at the news yet, and why should I? It’s just people arguing about obviously wrong things for the sake of views and clicks. Everybody knows this already. Right and wrong were instilled in us from day one. The money just talks louder.

What I am doing instead is watching a squirrel shimmy up a pole to get to my birds’ seed. They’re flying circles around him, clearly upset in bird language, and waiting for me to tap on the window. Seriously, there’s a beautiful Cardinal, plump and the deepest red; almost glowing. He or she, I’m not bird savvy, will stare at me through the window, sometimes flying right up to it to get my attention. They want me to scare the squirrel away.

Maybe if I’m nice enough to the birds, they’ll let me be one of them next time. I don’t think I’ve done that yet; be a bird, I mean. I have no recollection of flying, crapping on people’s nice cars, or fighting off squirrels for bits of seed. That life must’ve been a long time ago. Several mind-wipes between then and now.

I think it would be nice to fly. Just leave all the mess of the planet down below, rise above it, and just go somewhere else. Sure, there’re predators everywhere who want to eat me, basically everything, including other birds, but it’s the same thing as humanity. At least animals kill you and get it over with. Humans drag it out, bore you to death, and then slow-cook you for the rest of your mortal life. Again, metaphorically.

Can you imagine if you were a prey species, and the predator who caught you wants to sell you things, talk about their religious beliefs, and take you to a Trump rally before finishing you off? No thanks. I’ll take death, please. Quickly.

In the words of KR, “Strange things are afoot at the Circle K.”

They’ve been this way forever, we just all shopped at 7/11.

Preach truths, toke jokes, and shoplift Amazon. I can only hope that Circle K has better coffee.