honestly, i am written out. not because i have nothing to say, there's plenty. just no words. i am desert silent and i can't say why. horrors haven't stopped. everyday a new massacre. i'm beyond fatigued. every place seems like vegas. what i can't shake are the things people desire. even when i understand the craving the adrenaline rush there's always the instant crash that leaves me shaking with anger at my stupidity seen reflected in everyone's eyes. even yours you would have loved it there. sin city in the bowl of the desert. one should always fly in, fly out. to drive is to see a backbone better left unexposed anorectic, dry, pumped up with unsustainable doses of man made drugs like water, grass, trees. the desert will eat these for breakfast then come to you for mid morning snack. a perfect place to house desire. everything suseptible to spontaneous combustion.