fun

back in south carolina the majority of people spend their time fearful. fearful of war and terrorism, fearful of death and disease, fearful of their house foreclosing or even a god who may not go bankrupt but may lose interest. there is very little in the religion of the south that had anything to do with reflection, calm and abiding. the devil stalks the flea markets selling crystal meth, rolling blunts out back between the piles of garbage. a one armed man played guitar, strumming country laments with his naked foot. wonderful dark and inky songs about murder and jesus. they sell rifles, replica weapons and bibles from the same tables. i lived with these people and kept a diary, some of the pages i ate, through fear of them discovering how i felt.