David Bowie's death and the post-empire

It's 11 at night and I'm on a lot of drugs and I'm scared.  We have dexedrine to balance out the ADHD, klonopin to balance out the dexedrine, DXM to counteract the PCP, and mood stabilizers and anti-psychotics to balance out everything.  Its one of those nights where the paranoia that paralyzes the national character is paralyzing my own mind as well.  From across the room the night sky's abyss stares in at me, representing everything foul and fucked up in the USA.  I sit in my ivory fortress, in my ivory tower.  My ivory fortress is my last stronghold against a rapidly dying world and it is where I am reporting all of this from.