I stopped watching the boobtube seven months ago. Wham! Cold turkey. I admit: The symptoms of withdrawal were painful—my eyeballs twitched and watered, I felt isolated from the programmed reality view and worried that I was no longer worried. But my mute button finger regained feeling and full-functionality, my center of focus shifted from the ridiculous to the sublime and I slowly began to feel unfettered, invigorated and at ease in my own skin. I found I had magically manufactured extra time and I was able to finish all those projects that never seemed to get done—read those books I wanted to read. MAN! Do I feel GOOD! It is as if a great weight has been lifted out of my reptilian brain. My thoughts have become pure and clean, I no longer subconsciously lust for fast-food, shiny cars or anorexic pouty make-up models. I have stopped wondering whether I need drugs that start w/ X or end with "IA" or "Z." I have climbed to the mountain top with its big antenna and have ventured down the otherside to a new sparkling land of my own process. I am FREE, FREE at last.
KILL YOUR FUCKING DOOMBOX w/ prejudice—before it's too late!
KILL YOUR FUCKING DOOMBOX w/ prejudice—before it's too late!