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apathy is harder than it looks
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30.11.02
Ghetto Neal story alert!!!
The following is an only literary work done by me in super-depressed mode. I like it so I am putting it up. It is from Febuary of 2002.
I wish I was human, and not a goddamn snowflake. But hey, you always want what you can't have. Lying there staring into the lonely blue. A light post reaches out, craning its neck as far as it can and then exploding with a bright orange bulb that cast its hue upon everything it can. Snowflakes pass over me as I lie prone, motionless, and silent. Next to me lies my sister with her eyes shut. We are at peace. If the light weren't there I wouldn't be able to see the snowflakes on her. They pass through the light briefly as the wind pushes them forward on their seemly random, jumbled paths. Before they pass through they are invisible, as good as non-existant, and then once the ext the boundries of the light they are as good as dead. Snowflakes passing on their transient worthless lives. No pattern. On their way to become something bigger: an unseen field of white glistening in the light. I cannot see it for I like upon my back, but I know it is there nonetheless And I am please that I am myself and not some goddamn snowflake.
01:59
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