666 words

by endlesspsych

An experiment if you like, a confessional if you speak code.

Living on borrowed money, borrowed emotions and bored time, heh brother can you spare a dime and some motivation and some self esteem for which you’ll be paid in kind?  There’s not much to be said for having a broken brain or a useless mind. Just ask Phineas how that turns out – gnarled and changed on the tramway lines. Smiling at strangers, rejecting your friends an alien to your family – an old dog in a rusty cage travelling along straight lines.

H.M. is stuck in the moment in this world all mortals are immortal after all it’s only other people change and other people die. We have made a pretty noose of our own perceptions and we  lie to ourselves just to like ourselves and pretend we aren’t part of the problem but rather part of the solution. We are a self limiting condition. Life is a sexuality transmitted disease and you shouldn’t but you always bite the hand that feeds.

What do you want to forget? What do you want to remember? Swap those and see how far it gets you.

If music be the food of love then why does even it taste bland? These emotions and experiences are distinctly second hand. The mirror taunts – I won’t look even myself in the eye. Make nice with the demons in your soul – their minor beasts not even fit to be hell hounds. Hells puppies – yapping and ineffectual – but they have you licked. So small and insignificant these straws that break our backs.

Death is not as big a threat to me as an empty bed.

Never underestimate how much of this experiences isn’t yours alone, that no experience ever is, a thousand others have walked in your shoes. That’s why they let in the damp. An individual soils themselves on street corners and tells you that the world is ending. A man of faith tells you your soiled and that the world is ending. Meanwhile the world is ending – just on a scale that you cannot comprehend even if you try.

Worry not, everything is ending on a scale we cannot fathom. The nature of everything is transitory. Embrace your short termism. CONSUME, CONCEIVE, CONDEMN.

Think not of the future lest it think of you.

Human civilisation is not the world. It’s an aberration of the natural order – the final stage of a virus before it kills it’s host – we are nothing but an error term for existence.  Unintentional agents of entropy who’ve laughably convinced themselves they are bringing order. Nothing more than librarians in an inferno.

The dewey decimal system is evil. Don’t fear burning books – fear burning all the books. Burn flags whenever you can. The monks will burn themselves.

The past is a jealous lover eyeing the present with malice of forethought. It will tear you apart and weigh you down. An albatross on a sinking ship. Try to cast yourself anew forgetting crucially that we are NOT blank slates. I tried to love in and live in the present but the past wouldn’t let me.  The present was too easily scared off by. NO FUTURE. BELSEN WAS A GAS. Blackpool less so.

We are meat not construct. We are flesh not ideal. We are ghosts in the machine but the machine is also the ghost.

Form is not content and style is not semantic. Language is a slow moving fluid. Glass. It’s transparent and obsidian.

You can bury the truth in words, obfuscate it with endless lies but your brain lies to you for most of your life – if it ever tells you the truth don’t listen – you’ll never get out of bed again.

BARK never BITE. BARK never BITE.

GUTLESS.

Recrimination is a dirty word. Reconciliation a pretty fairy tale. Death may be a door but it is only one that closes.

Well what did that achieve? Very little.

I never finished it. But I never started it either.

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