so much angst.... so little time
Sunday, December 10
So here I go again, wasting my two cent's worth and another hour of my life writing on a blog that would never see the light of the day. Why do I even bother? Ah, I remember... This is not a blog, it's a shithole for all the raw feelings I never had the guts to unleash.
I got another comment, which I guiltily take as a compliment, about me being too silent. There was a reason, but that reason has already faded away into emptiness. But I guess this just means that I have finally succeeded in achieving my goal, to become a ghost. A ghost with no emotions, no memento, no attachments, just a frail imprint in reality disguised as a live breathing thinking human being. But is this really of my own making? Of my own will? And is this really the utopic state I envisioned?
I guess it just comes with the territory. Pain, specifically self-inflicted pain, is a potent breeding ground for hate. I'm not a psycho masochist, I just believe that words create lies but pain can be trusted, it reassures me of my existence. Pain makes me feel alive, it pumps hate into my veins like adrenaline, it's the equivalent of a dozen doses of speed, morphine, heroin, cocaine, blue devil, ganja, and hemp swirling in a giant purple-colored syringe. Hate fills me up, lays its eggs, and the larvae carve out my innards, leaving me hollow and empty...
Now why the f*ck am I writing this anyway? No particular reason, I just felt that a portion of my angst, even just a small and trivial portion, should be chronicled, circulated, so that it could fester and mature, and spread its malignant venom throughout this pathetic excuse for a world.
thrown by A.Paul @ 12:14,
