January 17, 2011

I am certain that what I left behind is somewhere ahead of me. These are interesting times, and of that I have no doubt. Node out.

The tragic side of what is past is what we will come to enjoy and employ to make endless comedies for our amusement. We cannot help to be slaves to this when we deem ourselves master of something else and forget our true place among the ashes.

The crashes are hurtful and permanent. You cannot escape the terminal velocity of your own ignorance and self-serving satisfaction of being Better than Them.

Better than that, you are only as cool as you perceive others to be square. Can you dig it? It's a neverending story of hate and circular logic. You are only a cog in a larger machine, in a lodger's need, in a lodging needle.

It's inside you, it's a painful sore and you cannot cut it out with all the irony in this world.

You need to bleed yourself, a little, a little more, too much to make this world forget you.

Or you could strain at the gates and push through the bars and still be dead and forgotten for all your troubles.

You decide.

I am only the all consuming darkness.

I have already eaten your soul.

I don't make friends. I don't mean than I don't make friends easily, and I certainly don't mean that I don't make friends Often. I mean that I do not make friends. When I meet new people I will make either an acquaintance, or an enemy. I suppose there is also a vastly larger third group of people whom I meet and never speak to or deal with again; would this mean that I also make strangers?

I don't meet a lot of people. I live a somewhat hermetic life. Almost all of my time is spent in the office in my house. When I do leave my sanctuary I rarely speak with others around me. When I go out of my way to speak with people that I have already gone out of my way to find I am incredibly guarded. I don't trust people. To be quite honest I probably don't need to be particularly guarded because I am rarely pleasant enough to be around that another person would want to become further acquainted with me.

I am not certain that I want to have friends. I have already gone to great lengths to seclude myself away from the friends I used to have, and I don't know that I need the headaches and heartaches that they caused me in the first place. Very rarely do I interact with other humans and leave feeling shiny and new. I usually leave feeling drained and discarded.

I have this sense that with so much history to build upon any future interactions I would have with other people would be just as bad if not worse. But I occasionally have a thought like "what is the purpose of having a swimming pool if you're the only one who is going to swim in it?" Which leads me to believe that the entire purpose of life is to let other people piss in your pool.

Audio Placation: Covenant -- Modern Ruin