rot.

i will not take joy in this.
i will not take joy in this.
i will not take joy in this.
i will not take joy in this.
i will not take joy in this.
i will not take joy in this.
i will not take joy in this.
i will not take joy in this.
i will not take joy in this.
i will not take joy in this.

...and as much as i keep telling myself that, i can't help but take a little, kind of like when the likes of jerry falwell and strom thurmond kicked the bucket. good riddance, old jess.

as a persecuted crack smoker style eulogy, here's an acrostic poem i wrote about him when i was in eighth grade. [the fact that i still remember it by heart kind of scares me.]

Jeers and boos and complaining
Everywhere heard in the crowd i have brought
Silence found nowhere, everyone screaming for the
Single thing that we have all sought
Expressing our true blue view.

He has tried for my entire life
Excluding thirteen or so years before
Lobbying for lace-covered atom bombs
Marching america out truth and liberty's door
So now we try to save ourselves.