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Show Coffee Drinkers Preferred Page 100 of 307 shrinking down to a pindot in my reaview mirror. Eat my fumes Utah, Steve is paying for the gas and I am out of here! I wanted to hang my head out the window and scream. Sure, I was jetsam without flotsam, just floating in this tide but this tide was taking me tangibly and tossing me aloft to elsewhere. And anywhere else sounded good to me. Utah, you safe place of concrete shoes, you killer of spirit, you pretender, you destroyer of individuality, you lover of truth and you hater of truth. You truth teller and you liar. Why do you let me live on the razor's edge of love and hate with you and everything you produce? Your tall mountains are my Olympus, Utah and I cannot leave my Zeus and Hera. All their children have fled into their own worlds but I am Nine-of-Nine Nephi, first book in the tome, and this burden hurts. I want to leave. My own warring mother and father were born of your bosom, Utah, and nurtured on your strange brew of fable and fantasy. They were married exactly how and when they were supposed to be and they created so many lovely tithe payers for you. We have all been consoled by your cantrips and illusions. We love the Lord. We love the truth and the deceit all swirling around so we never really know and never really don't know. Why do I feel you are standing on my chest until I just give in and surrender? "I am not marrying Meg!" I shouted it out into the heavens. Hear me Pheobus Apollo, bring your lyre and sing. Hear me Ares |