Spike the Decadent

hybrid [hahy-brid] –noun
1. the offspring of two animals or plants of different breeds, varieties, species, or genera, esp. as produced through human manipulation for specific genetic characteristics. 2. a person or group of persons produced by the interaction or crossbreeding of two unlike cultures, traditions, etc. 3. anything derived from heterogeneous sources, or composed of elements of different or incongruous kinds: a hybrid of the academic and business worlds. 4. a word composed of elements originally drawn from different languages, as television, whose components come from Greek and Latin.
I have been a black sheep all my life. I am a freak. No other way to describe it. God's sick and twisted idea of a joke. It's a beautiful thing. There is no label for some1 like me. I am very pround to be an American, but I despise and have no faith in our government. Not untill some changes are made. Real freedom is not what our government is about, they just want to keep us under control like docile cattle to the slaughter. I also believe that no-one has the right to contol what substance I choose to put into my body, when it's perfectly legal to drink all the booze in the world. Alcohol is a drug, and if you disagree and say it's not, then your a hypocrite peace of shit. It's just as bad as drugs. I trust nothing I see on the TV. "Where do I go for truth then?" You would ask... People like Bill Hicks, Henry Rollins, or Hunter S. Thompson. I admire people who try to wake us up and make us realize we're all a bunch of stupid sheep. Unfortunatly, none of us do. We can all have our reason's.
I believe Hunter Thompson was the last great American writer. He belongs in the ranks with F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ernest Hemingway, and Mark Twain. He lived life on his terms and that's the example I set for myself in my life. God knows I could never live up to that, but it's good to have goals. Given that I am not the most social of people, my dream would to one day have my own place of bliss, out in the middle of nowhere, prolly Alaska. I would raise snow-dogs and spend my summer's outdoors in the woods, drinking heavily, either shooting shit, or blowing things up. Both if possible. That'll prolly never happen though, for my life is grim. I am part of the problem, but at least I can admit it. A lover of art I am, but no artist.
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