I’m still working up the courage. I’m still thinking about loose ends. It builds, it eases, it begins to build again. It’s not news, it’s not a current turn, I’ve been like this for many miserable years. It’s part of the kind of impossible I wound up. It’s part of the picture I can’t see. It might be that it loves company, but it still ends up alone. All the world seems to move in another direction, while I keep on keeping on straight to hell. I know, I know, I’m repeating myself. It’s all I ever do. It’s all I’ve ever done. Lights on, lights out. Again the lonely corner. Again the long long night.
The night is a little star stunned, a little hazy. The moon is out and making a mess of it. I watched a little this and that. I took a shower and shaved my head. It’s all too much, I’m all too much, the bounded in a nutshell but for bad dreams kind of king that I am. Delusions and allusions and the soundtrack always on shuffle. Always more limits, always less light, the foregone conclusions and forever just never with time to kill. Every single day now taking a little more. No fault, no clue, just sorrows and furies and nothing up ahead.
It’s getting closer. It’s dumb and it’s frightening, but it seems the likely course. I hope I stay my extinction long enough to put my defects to good use. There’s just so many fewer pieces left, and none of them fit. There’s no one here and there’s no one around, and nobody talks anymore. They just type snippets of idiocy back and forth, too busy fragmenting themselves to sit through a conversation, or to bother with yet another burdensome fool. The swerve the tech took eludes me, though I tried to keep pace. Yet another in an endless loop of failures and failings, this idiot ouroboros made of words and weeping. Yet another candle in desperate need of snuffing out.