The words bubble from our lips like pleas, like prayers, begging life to look upon us, to smile upon us. Sometimes even to rage against us. We wait and we hope for something to happen, for anything to happen. Something we wouldn't be ashamed to call life. Something high, something grand. Something exceptional.
Boredom is perhaps the greatest price we pay for this weather beaten monument we call civilization. There's no danger really, the lion sleeps tonight and every night. And where there is no danger, there is boredom, degrees of disinterest. To get a shot of adrenalin, we wander in search of the tragedies of others, or we create our own. Self inflicted inventions, artificial emotion machines, ennui. Until we start to go mad, mad from unfeeling, mad from dying.
We begin to cry then, we begin to feel the tearing of our being. And with each rend, with each rip, we bleed. We bleed words that bubble from our lips like pleas, like prayers.
Boredom is perhaps the greatest price we pay for this weather beaten monument we call civilization. There's no danger really, the lion sleeps tonight and every night. And where there is no danger, there is boredom, degrees of disinterest. To get a shot of adrenalin, we wander in search of the tragedies of others, or we create our own. Self inflicted inventions, artificial emotion machines, ennui. Until we start to go mad, mad from unfeeling, mad from dying.
We begin to cry then, we begin to feel the tearing of our being. And with each rend, with each rip, we bleed. We bleed words that bubble from our lips like pleas, like prayers.
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have a holly jolly christmas, you little canadian. maaaaaybe you can have sex slaves. you have to be really nice.