a snow of butterflies : texticity

by Tomorrow's Man

January 17, 2003

I walk a path paved in gold. I see this path as a glittering ribbon, stretching west. There is nothing more luminous in my sights. I don't know exactly what lies at the other end. I do not know if there is an end.

I have detractors. There are those of you who thwart me, criticize, question my attitudes, ethics, sanity. But you, you...I would bet the closest hard-boiled egg that you, Detractor, have never set foot on a gilded path that may never let you get home again. I bet you, Detractor, have never felt that swell of courage in your breast, causing your heart to pound like a mating drum. I bet you have never felt the rush of throwing your life to the mercy of a walk to the sun.

I walk a path paved in gold. My steps are firm and fast. My chin is high. My smile is wide. My erection is large. My hair is swept back in the cold wind. My eyes glitter like amulets in the sunset as I stare West.

Walk with me, or accept a bitter kiss as I pass you, roaring.

Roaring!

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