Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Cardboard like figures phanton ballroom scenes & speeches at the same time
Black & white polaroid colors
Righteous version of the Jetsons and the Flintstones conviving in the same neighborhood
Everything sold as so solid reality
while everything at the same time seems vanishing in IA miasmatic with deorant sprays
Cocktails of civil wars and baby crash bang booms served free in cheap glasses
with discompassed bloody aleluyas
dripping ignorance and fear

Where's the EXIT...??

(They say Poe, Shakespeare, Vonnegutt, Hendrix and Morrison -solving some obstacles and for diffrent reasons- could stood there until the end. Thoreau, London, Hemingway, Dylan, Whitman, Dickinson and Kerouac didn't attend it or rushed away after the first minutes...)

That's what I'm wondering. Where is the exit? Not that I'm in a hurry or anything. What did I really believe in? Was it all just one hustle after another after another?

The path is the goal , it's my today ( more than today really...) aproximately truth