A letter to Hunter S. Thompson (excerpt)

“A plague is not a man-made.’s Why we say that this is only one level of mind, a bad dream that will happen but does not move and a nightmare plague over to another person.”
-Albert Camus the plague

Yes. Crystal meth, shards, ice … they are made by people, not human activity.
A plague is here, Hunter.

Even in ancient times, all-consuming rats carrying plague from all walks of life. An unprecedented educates its potential, though, as its logical conclusions rat maze to run without a hesitant step.

In fact, Mr. Council is a conscious understanding of the power heads flea bite Zed. Meanwhile, Mr Rat has become immune to the sting so customers fall victim to, and take every autumn.

Sometimes Hunter … to define a spirit, an image of its source, its reflection and its work is necessary, especially if it is a new creation – and uncharted untrained or (un) classified.
 
Smackers and other needle-geeks had never f @ cking prick moral problem or kill.

But ICE … Ice forgotten generation of new brain with proposals left to deal with the consequences of the Vietnam fathers, mothers chewing hippie Mickey, uncles and cousins ​​Gulf War deal and are now Afghanistan killed brothers and friends, in a country where Communists are called Democrats and Republicans Nationalists called when journalists and reporters an agenda of poison, and when the teacher leads the thought train tracks still idealistic rhetoric and devotion equal to slaves in the madness … ICE in this confused and self-destruction, only bad result.

This generation is flying in the control Mayhem Zed, happy, happy behind the emergence of a local mafia clan rally ditch or a banner. At the same time, these leaders Zed saw swimming in a daily discomfort Tom Stoppard would be nipped in the bud.

These fragments of hunting dogs, sniffing away dull day and night and day and night, ad infinitum … absurditum ad … little or no remorse for anything or anyone but their plans for the score plot. Tired of mainstream commercial and copying someone else’s self-absorbed, desperate unemployed people with no sense of time or production lines that the police practice of emotion their dealers parasites have fed them – all are booming while hearing the music appealing in particular the absence of a message. These forgotten refugee crisis, many internal wars lost and won, only to be lost in confusion … the glass (ED) Zed Heads … they lost … Escape the clutches of the modern rat.

Pest. Pest!
The sky is falling.
Wolf. Wolf.
Help!
Fire. Fire.
Rape. Rape.
Cries and lamentations echo obelisk covered in empty.
. Run. Run
Retreat!
Why are doors?
I have to kiss goodbye to my family.
Wait. Wait. Stop.
NO!
What is the destiny for us?
Hearing.
Old and young, he heard voices shouting their despair.
Do not look away. Just to stay. Fallout will support.
Read it now or later to see – the writing is engraved on the veil.
Zed heads – who are they?
Plague will respond.
Why?
Let me say …

Mothers and fathers, wrapped in cloaks terminal, forced by bureaucratic swamps in units of two-income family, without a call for something better – only a tacit assent to their lives and how many other monkeys.

Here we are … confused, miserable, wretched, they see the detention of American citizens losing battle … or behind bars for minor infractions, in accordance with medication, ease Shams responsibility of care seemingly hopeless shackles of the past undermines support from an ever encroaching state and / or in the shadow of the invisible spectrum, or threat that could strike at any time – anywhere.

If it were a subject to respond in a lackadaisical Zed emotion.

Aircraft accident and buildings fall. So what? 
Gulf War. So what?
Vietnam. So what?
Atomic bomb. So what?
Objectives Constitution Framers in designing. So what?
Slavery. So what?
Nihilism. Ironically … So what?
Freedom? So what? There is no such thing.
Morality. What are these? Oh. So what?
Capitalism. What is it? Oh. So what?
Finally, they grab their heads in a loss, learn a lesson in ethics and said:. “To hell with this poll, my ass, I’m dead you’re dead, we are all dead ‘M Already missing valuable in my own. eyes. Why should a damn about what happened or what happened or what others think of me? ”

This reaction to the world is constantly mocking share, sharply Head Zed.

Zombie … stupid … People is farmers. Everything is a game of chess with a resigned disgust, the surrender of debut farmers. Zed says simply: “You win.”
Why?
He knows he is not king.
She knows she is not queen. 
There are no options for Zed.
Why prolong the inevitable?
It is a capitulation to the lowest level.
Hurrah, fog and wind are too uncertain to support Zed’s.
It is a sad case in apathy and discontent.
Zed Head sail on the waves and forced half of napalm in the past neglected to look ahead to a meaningless survival trip.

“As a race, we survive and why should we try?”
This is their last scream.

For the answer to the deceased, they look and look, flitting in the shady alleys and dance floors, strobe smoke in the back room, only to find solace in the arms of the parasite found in pimp clothes. Mr Rat eyes glazed flea bite could require precise and provides a lost Zed Head.

. Thank you, rat You’re the only one who could answer my query I knew why and was not redefined by road, if they enjoy so little night offer long-term working without hope Thank you, sir… – Council clearly now ..? can see from last Tuesday, in fact, Mr Rat, I like your mirror to look at the shadows here and there and there they did not. ”

For days … for days …
End the day … cried in the night …
Nights at the beginning …
Everything is bolted – sold to support this life …
Respiration supported by petty crime and favors for Mr. Council …
Shadows loom next night and everything is so clear …
Can not you see? You can not see?
Wait. Wait.
Do not go.
Not yet …
I can not go back there.
Nothing is left in less than a year.
No family, no pets, no work available … Not at home …
No clothes or shoes … Go to …
My life is nothing without you, rat.
Yes, I can do it … at least once for you …
Spike my vein and sent me away …
You distribute your fleas to the carnival or zoo.
Whatever you say …
Just do not go away …
Nights on the last … Hell on wheels …
A Fixer is now – like a new beginning?
He needs it now …
He can not wait ’till then …
Read more now … more …
Finally, he makes money hand over fist …
Buying a gun should not …
This zoo is a dangerous …
“Oh, no, what have I done?
I wanted to breathe.
I did not realize that the pigs were there too. ”
Seals at the wrists … Shackles on the ankle …
It could happen.
It’s not a bad dream that will pass easily …
Camus was right – is never play before an injury …
Man to man is what Mr Rat steal meth shards of glass and ice, Crank …
A shell will pass …

It is easy to see, but I do not.
You can choose to stay silent in the land of the blind.
Rana is a growing, Hunter.
If should be blocked.

J.T. for a small company called one day away from the inner city. Council Allen sat in the vehicle for a clean, after talking for a year. Little knew he would soon be a Judas Goat to the rat Mr. and take a loss.

He did not step far enough outside the circle. People enjoyed his company. These were his crimes. Help if your Fourth Amendment Foundation, or what not … or in self-defense, let it rot.
So there you have it.
I hope I made clear.
Just another story from the Falls of Bells Ferry and lulls with growing pains filled.

Finally, I offer you good.

Thank you for your letters, newspapers, and your novel, too.

You have a lot to me to know my name without ever taught. So if you can not help Allen, Ice impacts your social chronicle of the comments … and let me say, “Thank you, too.”

By Taha Mateen

    

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