Love lifts us up where we belong

I want to enfilade a large portion of ifantry with fullsides of artillery filled with canister, grapeshot, and sharpnel. I was watching the news and they mentioned something about the cold and 'hoping you have a warm cup of coffe in your hands.' I coulden't help but be somewhat amused as I had indeed a cold glass of beer in my hands at that very moment. Sometimes I wonder why things that I think should be realtively simply seem to remain instead far more complicated then is truly necessacry. What the fuck? Sometimes I wish the ambiguity of life would make itself more clear so early yet I know once I pass out it will be so late.