I look without seeing, listen without hearing and breathe without living. Afflicted with a first world problem and only able to express it in high school words I sit outside my cell making smoke signals to people who cannot see the sky through the smog.Plus it's hotter than molten hate out here.
I am also carrying around what may be a credible feeling that the end soon approaches. Either the molecular rebellion in my brain tissue will leave another beautiful corpse on the field or soon comes revelation of some sort. Well, I suspect that it would be the personal type of revelation. People on the whole have too many parasites and ideas to make it easy for them to stop for a moment and look at the big picture. And even if they could see the big picture they'd be mistaken because there isn't even a picture to be seen.
There is no stage, no path, no tunnels, no plans and no reason. I feel sorrowfully content and miserably enlightened.
I need to laugh.
But dammit, there's not enough bread to spare for wetting and tossing at cars.
I also miss Ham and Korrin. I've treated everyone so badly that perhaps I could find reason enough to give a shit in the pursuit of seeking forgiveness and making things right by them. Neither of you let me off the hook on this. Were you to forgive me willy nilly I'd be back to square one, one spelled "ennui" and we all know how I hate French terms and privilaged conundrums.
There seems to be a rational response to my current predictable predicament, I shall fight adaptable contentment with pain and suffering. But I'm too unconquerable to find myself wanting. The want, the drive, where'd it go. Perhaps I left the wanting in drive and it rolled off a cliff with several suitcases of care.
Gadzooks I've poisoned this...
Initiate wound sucking and venom spitting.
No good, it's entered the blood stream. Cut it off and give the patient some rest. There's no need in forcing it.
