this place is a museum of human nature

He’s just some punk kid in his 30’s with a pen up his ass! True. and you know what? I did it like a fucking boss. the greatest trickster so in character he didn’t even know it was his doing. his first breathe started it all and it was started with a lie. a little white lie that snowballed into something that caste a shadow any light would just dance around it. talk about a black sheep.

The trick was to get him to believe he was a goodly person, truly believe it, and then watch him fidget himself outta the ropes he bound himself with. To be a good person is to drown in it’s paradoxes. the little bastard is still fidgeting, but i don’t know why. i don’t think he knows why. the human spirit is: to appear as lovers. But we are beasts with carnal desires and truly hidden depths even we are afraid to discover. imagine your every thought, your very own personal, private thoughts you thought were your very own; witnessed by everyone else in the world. NO. Felt. what manner of creature are you then?

He still fidgets because he truly believes… and he refuses his world to be so dark and lonesome. He fidgets even though it seems no one will come to help. just sneers and jeers from strangers and friends, he doesn’t even know his own name. One goodly life, isn’t earned through suffering, that’s silly, but when you’re backed into a corner physically, emotionally, to the very core of you, you want to wish it was all just a game, but you wouldn’t bet your life. All he has is his life. And if he is wronged, let’s hope all the manners of darkness and rage he suppressed in life, is put to good use by his real self in the after-life. To deny oneself the easy things, is power.


Leave a comment

Filed under Uncategorized

Comments are closed.