oh those retched excesses

...too much fun under the sun, too much done like a rib-eye of a hurricane, too much spreading cheer, beer and wherewithal hither and yon... much too much like no pain no gain no brain oh the humanity on the Plain and all...

...who in their sane mind thinks chasing the Rat racing is an enlightening and healthy alternate endeavor to living like you mean it balls out everyday like it's your last I ask?

...spent enough time on the track to understand the miserable and fallible refugees I encounter trudging along their way to their personal Eastern shore sharing their perplexed expressions and in that time I learned that my track is my track in the Historical context of that moment in Time, captured on my retina, imprinted on my soul and where it leads, rack & row I go, oh wretched excesses or not, that is the Footprint of Passage and best be grateful for that still while it wanders as usual amongst the gathered ratty tatters, dead-enders, flat-enders, flat-outers and other related auspiciousness's so known in oblique circles as the Any o' Where Bent Parallax Venting Syndrome: living in 2 dimensions simultaneously, making Time speed up or slow down depending and looking damn good while doing it.