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"
apathy is harder than it looks
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16.2.04
The golden rays bounded through his window, somersaulting across the bronze wood of the breakfast table before illuminating the glowing glass of vanilla coke he cradled in his hand. "breakfast table"; it is odd that people use breakfast as an adjective to tell the time. A bit of linguistic laziness. Breakfast isn't really describing the table at all or is it? The morning rays make change it's nature day to day as the sun wanders south in the winter. From day to day, minute to minute it progresses towards nothing as it very slowly rots where it stands.
He raises the cup to his lips. Fizz of the bubbles ignites his senses masking from him feelings of his own decay. He allows a sigh to escape, his shoulders to slump, his body to sink lower. His thoughts push off from his body soaring into the jumbled clouds of higher thought. "the problem with society is that we have nothing to do or say. all our most basic needs are being met. we have turned toward impossible goal of eternal life through science. we no longer even consider the fact that we might die tommarow. we are too out of touch with death and therefore unable to live. this lifestyle is rare, unnatural, and cannot continue for much longer. it is only a matter of time before we return to a world where survival is anything but certain"
23:33
11.2.04
Finally... a short blurb I actually felt like writing...
"The best place to get pot on campus"
The preacher's face contorted as if he had simultaneously discovered his only daughter was addicted to heroin, pregnant with a convict's child, and a connoisseur of rap. He would feel less perturbed if she was dead.
"It doesn't matter if you win or lose, it's..."
My fist connected with his abdomen decelerating as it transferred its kinetic energy to his organs. I could hear the squish of his kidney separating from his liver. I laughed; not one of those cheap upper chest laughs, but a deep gut-clenching one that shook my stomach to the point at which it would inspire vomiting if I had anything in it to vomit. After swaying over a few heavy breaths, his head weakly rose, opening access to his vitals; an invitation. I accepted.
00:45
6.2.04
after some sleep and french homework I was feeling a bit spaced... the result is this post...
If there are things worse than death, is there something better than life?
One must give up the past before he can look to the future.
07:43
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