The world around me functions as a bureaucracy where standards are muddled over, sampled, washed and watched, sent to committee, awaited approval and then sit still.
Ideas collect dust and written books sit awaiting a publisher; art sits leaning against walls unseen, bent steel collects dust and rust, carved wood is polished and oiled unseen.
Our government operates the same way; brilliant thought is swept away toward the top of the crust as its author still sits in his cubicle.
I work differently what I am is. The process of life is the show, ego pounds his chest. I have a tool that is new and it is here.
Older generations are stuck in there bureaucracy awaiting approval, while I show whatever good or bad to the world. What I do improves with time but it is never sold or purchased because it is in place.
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