I have sold my soul, it is true, but I did get a good price.  I will sell it again at a profit.  I will sell yours if you let me (you will, you know); I can guarantee a good price for such a clean item.  Everything can be for sale, you must know this by now.

And if it is not for sale, well, then it is worthless because it is worthless to me.  I have no qualms because I have no imagination. I will admit that, but I do have a talent for seeking out the stench of money.  After all, it is only business.

Progress is profit and product must move; this is a universal law.  I can make sure that you can afford it; that is not a problem.  I can’t afford bowing to the virtues of morality, but I can afford buy them.

I am the buyer and seller; I am the deceiver and the saint.  I make laws to sell them and break them for profit.  It is not for the good that I do this, I am not a giver of necessities; I sell liberty and justice.  I am the bottomless pit of greed and economic gravitas.

The price is too high; the cost is too great, but only for you.  I will sell until the end of time and then I shall sell that too.

With my words I will change the world; their sounds wafting through the universe.

The forgotten artist, the academic bard.

Simplify sentences; state the truth.

Pen to paper.

Thoughts.

There is a place that I have not seen, a place that I have not been.  There is always another mountain, another road.  The backpack collects no dust and the tent never sits unfolded.  The car is a tool, the motorcycle is better, the place: outside of the typical.

Curiosity never killed the cat, but it has changed the life of all adventurists.

Too many hours within one zip code, or perhaps it is simply the horizon the beckons?  It is genetics, this curiosity, the drive to change, for change is (after all) the only consistent.  But as ironic as it may seem, it is the consistency that matters.

Do not make the mistake of believing in your dreams; adventures do not have consistent conclusions, foreseen consequences.  The adventurist will learn this…sooner or later.  This is part of the adventure no matter what your belief is about the trip.

The platitude for the adventurist to remember: everything has a cost and a benefit, but don’t be so sure you know which is which.  Enjoy the adventure and pay for it with your past.  The sun will set and where will you be?  This is the question in the back of every adventurist’s mind.

I am that which my country demands; I am loyal and thankful to no one.  The flag on my shirt and on my truck are not symbolic: they are sacred as is the tribe that they demarcate. There is no respect here, but only pride and the righteous indignation of those who belie my beliefs because my beliefs are my country.

I have not chosen, but was chosen; I do not understand, but am certain; I have done nothing, but expect everything.  My nationality is my soul and those who disagree are my mortal enemies.  The world stops at the borders of my motherland and I will defend her with my life if necessary.  I will die for that which does not exist.

I know nothing of Thomas Paine, my history is the rocking chair upon which I sit.  I owe nothing to anyone but yet, my country needs me.  I abhor society, but they are my kin.  Contradiction is not possible in the country of my thoughts just as change is the witch that brings evil upon my family.

I have made my bed, I have made my choices, and I will stand in the path of progress.  Semper Fi.

I am that of which I am; that overlord of the word, the rhetorician of knowledge.  I only exist in the sound of my own thoughts, those wily things that come from no where and disappear just as quickly.

I am blind but yet I see; no method will end my madness, no undone thought exists in my head.  The bricks by which I build my fortress are solid, secure and filled with certainty.  The wall goes up of its own accord as I watch, comforted and alone.

It is my conversation, my domain that matters most and yet no one realizes that I need their ear, their understanding, their acknowledgement, their accordance.  I will speak until the goal is reached, the need is met.

No physics, no logic, no rational, no moral, no epistemology, no aesthetic, no consideration, no methodology, no expertise, no reality, no fact, no knowledge, no Truth will ever overturn what I have created.

I speak louder; I fill the air with words.  And yet deep down, I doubt.

I am an individualist, and have lived life that way intently and consciously throughout the years.  For an individualist, reliance upon others is often seen as a form of failure, as a weakness, as lazy.  I know this because I have felt those things and judged others as such.

I have picked up the shovel and dug the hole with my bare hands.  I have demolished and built; I have fixed and destroyed; I have learned and I have taught; I have created and dismissed.  I have been against the wall and solved the puzzle.  I have done these things as the individualist that I am: with no thought to ask permission or no intention to ask for help.

Women have jested that I am a man and that we are simply that way.  But they are no better than I.  Individualism knows no boundaries and we recognize each other, we individualists and we recognize those who wear the mask of individualism.  They are the worst: the miscreant liars of loneliness, because the fakers of individualism; they are weakness behind the mask of strength.

The thieves of strength rely upon their masks to undermine the secret of individualists: that we need and desire help; we need others in order to be individuals.  Where else would I have learned the trades and arts that I know?

Whom else would answer the questions I have about the tools and ways that I have come to rely upon but from those who have recognized that being an individualist means learning from the silent and still waters of experience and time.

Ahh, the holidays, no matter where or what they are, are really not about the traditional roots that they might stem from, nor should they be.  Perhaps they started as, or became, religiously important, and perhaps they still are.  These ideas about holidays, especially Christmas, are not really important: how we celebrate is not as important as what we celebrate and why we celebrate.

Typically holidays are the time when families get together; sometimes, holidays include friends that may be alone.  Holidays are a good excuse for doing something good, putting our self’s aside and thinking of others, or giving to a charity.  All of these things are what matters, no matter why we do them; maybe we should celebrate the chance to be with those who are important to us, and to help those who cannot do the same.

Want to pray and celebrate religious beliefs?  Do it, but do it with those you love.

Want to eat and argue?  Fine, but do it with those who matter to you.

Want to roll your eyes in cynical apathy?  Great, roll them with your best friends or those who need a best friend.

Merry Quansihonikus!!!!  Eat, drink, argue, forgive, and smile.