Hypocrite

There is so much violence everywhere.

It's turbulent. So many killings everywhere-

You're killing me- it's murder!

I can't take this much longer- 

You have a problem with love and sex.

You have a problem with things you can not accept about nature- It's human nature to question and ponder. It's surreal when you find your faith in bed and not an altar.

It's a visceral thing that all humans keep moving and dancing to the same beat and breath like one animal, like one machine.

There is so much violence everywhere.

So many killings- it's murder!

I can't take this much longer.

No, I do not judge.

You have a problem with love and sex- you can accept it. You degrade everyone who stands in the way of your puritanical beliefs. I'd rather not belong to a tribe that is represented by you. It's all complex. Yet, all very simple. You're a hypocrite. And your notion of the arts is so peechy keen, and so ideal. No nudity and all censorship. Romance is alive so are ideas. They are important for our existence. Furthermore, it doesn't really matter of my or your opinion. It is matter of fact. Love is everpresent and everywhere. Romance without passion is not anything beyond a cold handshake. Even that is more aggressive than your sensibility. Don't you deem it necessary that anything with a point of view is validated for someone out there. For the artist. For the writer. For the poet. For the viewer. For the reader. For the story. For the people. Hope's aplumb my dear. Maybe someday you will share the same opinion. I know your not inadequate. Perhaps you have a problem with your overwhelming masculinity or your dainty feminity. Now as I'm usually right, who cares let me see what's in your underwear!