the cockaigne dream feels cold and empty like a stale chocolate bar at 2:00 in the morning it just dissaponts me reality isn't a dark chocolate truffle I wish it was because my acedia is overwhelming how long can the world stay a small quivering mouse all shades of gray and how long must I wait for the peacock to show me his colorful feathers on NBC television it's always the same old pabulum isn't it, always safe, always sane but I'm yearning for something crazy and dangerous why can't I jump off the bridge without drowning why can't I run through the street without getting hit by a car who understands that somebody somewhere just realized that this is their last moment on earth just realized that they are going to die tears well in their eyes as they desperatley think it's not fair and it isn't but what does that matter