Our governments have learnt their lesson. Banning a topic, or hiding something from the masses is going to provoke a riot and a revolution. Thus was created the modern media, where nothing is a banned subject and everything can be talked about. Ah yes, but they are not. Instead, we are distracted beyond belief by trivial things like baby names and the weight of our modern day gods. We'll forget all about the dead and dying if you just tell us the top hairstyle of the year.
It is hard to believe that things are meant to happen when they're not meant to happen.
I have a lion running after me. A big black shadow lion that devours life as it moves. It is catching up to me, and fast. All the world around me is turning into shadow; I can't see anything and yet I can feel its claws and teeth clinging on to me.
It is hard to correct what wasn't meant to happen when it was meant to happen.
It's a strange feeling, packing all my figurines up, tearing all my notes, and putting away the bedsheets. It's like moving away from a life you had. It is the end of a life. It wasn't I who died, but it was me whose life ended. It was simple, it was a pure loss of everything there was.
I cannot think of anything that is happening now. I am useless. I am an appendix to everything. Tomorrow I will tell the truth, which in itself must be a lie. Today I am still dead.
For the first three months there was nothing but darkness. Words melted into each other, currency both existed and nonexisted at the same time, faces blurred as people walked past. But none of it was sad. Cigarettes and vodka were my sustenance. I had to be dead to fit in my coffin.
Kurt Vonnegut should have skipped all that nonsense about bokononism and just spoken of me. I am a nihilistic version of Bokonon. I am anti-everything and pro-anything, as long as it requires no particular effort on my part. I think I could be a racist, or a sexist, or a xenophobe, or homophobic, or whatever else there is... I think I am just too lazy to judge people. Maybe that's it. It's not truly acceptance until you're not even bothered to think about it.
Every time I orgasm I still see her.
I still feel her.
It is hard to believe that things are meant to happen when they're not meant to happen.
I have a lion running after me. A big black shadow lion that devours life as it moves. It is catching up to me, and fast. All the world around me is turning into shadow; I can't see anything and yet I can feel its claws and teeth clinging on to me.
It is hard to correct what wasn't meant to happen when it was meant to happen.
It's a strange feeling, packing all my figurines up, tearing all my notes, and putting away the bedsheets. It's like moving away from a life you had. It is the end of a life. It wasn't I who died, but it was me whose life ended. It was simple, it was a pure loss of everything there was.
I cannot think of anything that is happening now. I am useless. I am an appendix to everything. Tomorrow I will tell the truth, which in itself must be a lie. Today I am still dead.
For the first three months there was nothing but darkness. Words melted into each other, currency both existed and nonexisted at the same time, faces blurred as people walked past. But none of it was sad. Cigarettes and vodka were my sustenance. I had to be dead to fit in my coffin.
Kurt Vonnegut should have skipped all that nonsense about bokononism and just spoken of me. I am a nihilistic version of Bokonon. I am anti-everything and pro-anything, as long as it requires no particular effort on my part. I think I could be a racist, or a sexist, or a xenophobe, or homophobic, or whatever else there is... I think I am just too lazy to judge people. Maybe that's it. It's not truly acceptance until you're not even bothered to think about it.
Every time I orgasm I still see her.
I still feel her.
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