La Vie Boheme

To days of inspiration, playing hookey, making something out of nothing, the need to express, to comunicate, to going against the grain, going insane, going mad. To loving tension, no pension, to more than one dimension, to starving for attention, hating convention, hating pretension, not to mension, of course, hating dear mom and dad. To riding your bike midday past the three, piece suits, to fruits, to no absoluts, to absolut, to choice, to the village voice, to any passing fad. To being an us for once, instead of a them. To hand-crafted beers made in local breweries, to yoga, to yougurt, to rice and beans and cheese, to leather, to dildos, to curry vindaloo, to huevos rancheros and maya angelou, emotion, devotion, to causing a commotion, creation, vacation, mucho masturbation. Compassion, to fashion, to passion when it's new, to Sontag, to Sondheim, to anything taboo. Why Dorothy and Toto went over the rainbow, to blow off auntie Em. Bisexuals, trisexuals, homosapiens, carcinogens, hallucinogens, men, Pee Wee Herman, german wine, turpentine, Gertrude Stein, Antonioni, Bertolucci, Kurosawa, Carmina Burana. To apathy, to entropy, to empathy, ecstasy, Vlaclav Havel, The Sex Pistols, 8BC, to no shame, never playing the fame game, La Vie Boheme.