Dark and dreary with plops of rain splattering the muddy sidewalks. Sharp impacts of cold wet droplets threatening to drown one should they look to the sky; the source of kamikaze spheres silently screaming as they die, with a splat! Brain is numb but conjures phrases first uttered by the likes of Poe or even Lovecraft. The neighborhood has been transported and now sits at the base of the mountains of madness. Only rabid dogs and Englishmen would venture anywhere; best to stay within ones environ; secure the door; living the remainder of ones existence within the familiar; all too few comforts.
Such dark thoughts seem apropos on the day we send the IRS the deficiency they demand. Their minions are everywhere ready to do their master, the Respondent, whatever is needed to keep their criminal tyranny in power. They feed on fear but must show their true colors during October, especially the closer we get to Halloween. Even now they replace the shepherds dog with a wolf; then it no longer pretends to bark; it bites and like a shark shaking its head from side to side; flings blood upon all too near to escape being spattered. For a moment the ground becomes a painting as masterful as one by Pollock; but hideous.
If only it would thunder and lightning; instead it glooms; threatening to be darker; darker; darker still. The clouds begin to bubble; an evil deep red glow in the distance tells; this type of morning should sailors take warning of. Is it a tornado? Sounds of trains approaching are heard; faintly; coming; still distant.
Best to return to eternal sleep; no need to further zombie-fie this earth. Promises of a better place; pacify the populous; pretend to be pleased by ones situation; become Borg; resistance be futile. A battle is lost as tick by tick we find ourselves exactly one day closer to Mayan Armageddon. I take no comfort that a day will come that this becomes a forgotten entry in my lost and bloody blog.