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apathy is harder than it looks
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9.1.03
he had become so lonely that he had entered a stage in which he made love to his food. hugging pillows just didn't cut it anymore. nothing could now compare to the warm salty satisfaction of chicken soup with rice. it was as salty as a lover's lips and as warming as a hug. a souless hug. a hug of death. a chicken had died to give him what was frothing inside of his mouth. a real kiss is very much alive, full of nervousness and excitement. he stopped. he swallowed. the soup sunk in him like a prisoner in a slave labor camp sinks into his bed at the end of the day. the death invaded his stomach and from there, his soul.
22:26
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