I want to think I churned down through another layer of sediment of my unconscious today, and that’s why I hit a whole oily-black vein of VBS songs. (VBS: that’s vacation bible school, for you non-initiates.)
I don’t want to be a phairisee, I don’t want to be a phairisee…
‘Cos the phairisees aren’t fair, ya’ see….
How many of these tics/ vrittis/ scary buried memories are left? I think we’re back to about 1982 at this point and I haven't glimpsed any of the fire and brimstone that must await down in the denser layers. It's going to take more than foot behind the head tricks once it's time to call in the diamond tip.
Ha ha! Scary scary scary. Really.
I just want to be a sheep, baaa, I just want to be a sheep, baaa
I just want to be a sheep, baaa.
This too shall pass. Meh.