Where The Trees Have Leaves Of Prisms

I am still trying to get over the crisis in Japan.

It haunts me, it haunts me that anyone who lives near a reactor may suffer the same fate. I hope the sites here in Georgia are taking extra precautions because we too, like Japan, live in a relatively uninhabitable place that is dotted with mountains and big ass animals, and we are using nuclear power. Every time I type a word I tax a fuel rod of its radiation which is then converted into energy that I keep using. It makes me want to stay outside, and there ain’t much outside besides fucking yard work, which I am currently delaying.

Go light on your house today, and be well. Listen to the Byrds, or some others tweeting outside.

 

About The Head Seminarian

I might be the nicest person you'll ever meet, but if you don't believe me, that is because I hate you. I went to war, I went to father, I came, I saw, and it is a mess. I wouldn't have it any other way. Shitty people amuse me, people who act like human volcanoes fascinate me like fine art. Life is beautiful, and it is under attack in a manner heretofore unseen in history. I came to remind you of this, not make it worse. I might be writing a blog. Yes, that's all I am doing, now that I think about it. If you have a bad memory, you will forget this. Even I forget sometimes, so we're cool.

Posted on March 18, 2011, in postaday2011 and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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