Just made these snazzy poems which I'm sure somebody will
steal but god dammit if I can't express myself!
A poem of the sort, I suppose.
As a sort of existentially affected nothing, I suppose the
valves of my heart are rusted shut. Output, ceased. The glory of life's potential fluidity, coagulated. Taking in to account all lack of external
response from passive ongawkers and nonresponders, I cease to exist. Appropriately,
this would be my bliss. If not for looming fact that I do. A nonexistence; that
would be so nice. Lovely disillusion provides me with the oppressive melancholy
of my continual state. While not always, I am, and hope still never to be.
You like that? Yeah, it was pretty cool. Ok, here’s another “poem.”
Arguably, it only made sense. But...
After I destroyed the world, I had to remake it, of course,
and in my own image. There had to be something to compare the previous world
to. The old world was hideous, yes, but compared to what? It only made sense. But... compared to what?
Some nifty stuff right? Right?! Ok, that was a fun little experiment, the whole "blog" thing. Thanks for participating. Perhaps in the near future I will violently propel more words on to this... "blog" thing. Goodbye! :)
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