And although memories flow like a wave drawing me deeper and deeper to a place unintended, I look around and realize something I hadn’t before. Blinded temporarily but not anymore. I see now. A new world within an old. Something unexplainable. A Jes Grew brewing. On the walls. On the trees. On odd cone shape statues. In the air? Pollution. Is it pollution? No. An epidemic. An anti-disease.  What has taken over is a phenomenon. Once unacceptable.

Voices suddenly surround me. Voices of people from bridges, allies, streets and parks. Unknown voices of a new generation. Not by language. 而不是按语.No por idioma. ليس عن طريق اللغة.Pas par langue.   But by appearance. By the way their dickies hang from their waist. By taking risks and trying not to get caught. By bubbling verses next to other verses and next to more bubble letters. Or by paying homage to uncle Fester. Who’s uncle Fester? You should know.

 

Unclear ideas for others to see. It does not have to be clear. Clear isn’t clear even for the clearest of thinkers. It can be Mumbo Jumbo. Or Jumbo Mumbo. Both are the same.What does it all mean? It’s there to be interpreted….I think.

 

Or….wait….is….it?….Umm….shit…I don’t know anymore...Too many Fox Barrels.

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