Monday, February 4, 2019

Tribalism :: Personal Narrative Papers

Tribalism I. My sis recently put a map of the knowledge domain in her bedroom, where she dreams of all time of being chased. Warfare is the greatest affair of state, the basis of life and death, the Tao of natural selection and extinction. It must be thoroughly pondered and analyzed. If you want to succeed in battle, guess as if deranged. 1 I overheard two women arguing. One of them was me, in a later life. The other was God. My sister pushes her dream away and well call her a mystic her lived reality defers to the visions, and details of where well live, how well earn a living, or who is at the door sink into the background. If creatures are helpless in a world of flags and fairies, we can break tyrants with our fists. Why wake up from that vision? If I could remember, I would never return to sunburn, rental cars, boy scout leaders, garbage, oleaginous hair, no water in the desert, cold nights of sweat and gleaning. Trust me. rally the trap - a package with an umbilical c ord, ties straining. Mourning doves and the sound of birds and rapids. The suggestion pushes the river backwards, completing the cycle. Before night fell into your lap you stared blankly at the traffic light on the corner wondering, why consult the bind of Changes? Every sign you need is right here fire trucks a staple on brook street, power lines buzzing overhead comparable soldiers of fortune. The planets align in your seventh house, poking feebly at an electromagnetic field. So if I ever say anything Im lying to you. Feel best or worse, see if I keeping. March toward unrestrainedness, in the evening we swore up and down to stay alive. Foundry the boundary down to the last gravedigger. daybreak or evening times are unimportant dont live to compete, further fight when you must for a better world. We are all singers and mad and we make less and less money every year. Perhaps you care about all this loss, heaped onto your plate like steaming eggs on an English. Further along and we come to a crossing, where I found you waiting for me and left. Pretend you have come to a crossing. Not a divide in the yellow wood but a good city intersection, with traffic and manholes and strangers not particularly watching.

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