I've spent the last 3 days in deep thought mode. There is snow on the ground and all sound is muted. No music plays. A hole in my spirit needs filling.
Overtures of doubt and disbelief crowd my mind. Hunter Is dead. Not just rumored to be. Actually is. There will be no message on the gonzo wire informing us all that the good doctor has fled his compound and is heading towards ascuncion where he plans on raising wild boar, drinking wild turkey and polishing his tools for a wild and crazed look at just how fucked this world is, At this moment in time.
This trip is now a different one. Who will rip the throats of the weasles and swine that rule over us now? Gone is the voice that steadied the legs. Never again will the voice of reason shine through the shit and show us mortals what is going on behind the smoke and mirrors.
His bold, visceral poetry will live on. Of that you can be certain.
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