How much of the mad, mad, mad world is comfortable?
Dearie me, not very much. It is obvious not even the most comfortably well off are either comfortable or well off. Meanwhile, if you are sick, starving, homeless, penniless, anxiety- ridden (anxiety implies neurotic, irrational pain, but what I mean to indicate is rational, real, concern and care, not curable by psychiatrist or anything from a modern pharmacy, FEAR, FEAR, FEAR, ALARM, ALARM, ALARM)
…If I could meaningfully complete the above thought, I would contradict, or is it refute, or paradox or portmanteau, or twitter, or
Oscar Wilde speaking to Walt Whitman, in Camden, N.J., in hushed tones, Oscar, catching a great break, a killer rush, a fire from heaven, a blessing sweet and kind, divine madness, I’m glad the two great poets met, so maybe it is here I find my own reason for finding the world not entirely mad. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if both kept pets, too. Little chi chi ones, with the intelligence most surpassing…
Spam of Human Affection 
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