2.5.25

 writing in the morning is a nexus where I can integrate my experiences where i can unravel the confusion where I counter the helplessness by a touch of agency which fosters hope and intensifies my desire to walk with you through chaos into a brighter day   #katyamills

madness stops within you

to stop in yourself

the madness of the world

online and off

find what you stand for

tolerate disagreements

be properly outraged 

and mostly passionate

able to voice what you care about

and why

#katyamills

Swiss Miss and the Illiterati -ii

The Illiterati were a transparent outfit, universally known to desecrate a good thing. 

While their focus was the world of words, they were known to have their misdeeds seep into other sacred institutions. They were for-profit, of course. Uncreative heads, uniting to get over. Pandemonium of desperate pushing of e-paper over fair market and free flowing venues like Amazon. Polluting all rivers of language with their sub-basement communications. 

 The in house rule was. Only one creative thought allowed per quarter, per bitch. They were bitches all of them, though they called themselves 'authorities'.  They did not hire minorities. They hung like scrotums off of nepostalic seniority. 

To keep a fair rep, they might outsource some talent.  Maybe credit out off of some poor Creative Commons licensed victim. They could paraphrase, quote, and steal with impunity. It was a sad day if they tried to insource a title. Any work mined from these lethargy-stricken corn-fed minds stood out from the others like a second draft of what might have become some wonderful masterpiece if reworked two thousand five hundred and three times before circulation.  If not the roughest draft. 

Glue and paper and stick figures could have brought a greater response.
tbc (to be continued)