I’m sorry I killed you. Yeah, I guess your life
is over. Some may call it suicide but it seems to me that we each used our
chances to the best of our ability. Selfish ignorance is a leading cause of
painful suffering; I’m ready for the next evolutionary step.
I had time before my flight to watch a movie but I had to be on my way around midnight, about twelve thirty, before one. I looked in the mirror and it was as if my bottom jaw was completely gone; the skin sagged and I could see the impression of the top row through my neck, couldn’t tell if thats just what they looked like from underneath. I said I’d wash the dishes if she would just do everything else, which just happened to be the opposite of nothing.
The ending was different than from what I chose to remember, only kind of anticlimactic. I thought I was dying, with regards to my strange symptoms, the apparent hole in my neck and my growing sense of apathy towards everyone: (society, the world, them, and the rest.)
I feel like I’m on drugs but actually I think I may have taken less than I gave, remaining here only in some strange deficit, only trying to not make too much noise. I’ve always been an only child, a middle kind of kid, centered in my simplicity and isolation, irresponsible, immortal, immature. This is definitely falling apart now and just trying to reassemble itself. My irrational behavior is hardly an excuse to continue breathing like this in here. I know its sunny where I’m going, when I wake up. It will all be new to me, as if I had never done this before again.
If its no accident then what am I supposed to call it? Living by the whim and will of ones unknown neighbor, in contrast to the one that gladly cuts your grass. Moving in one direction. Smells like springtime. Hardly an accident. Unused potential a matter of time. This is where beauty lies, the chance to turn ugly. Unchecked agression. Unknown prediction. Where will we go when this starts and how will we know by the time it’s really over?
I had time before my flight to watch a movie but I had to be on my way around midnight, about twelve thirty, before one. I looked in the mirror and it was as if my bottom jaw was completely gone; the skin sagged and I could see the impression of the top row through my neck, couldn’t tell if thats just what they looked like from underneath. I said I’d wash the dishes if she would just do everything else, which just happened to be the opposite of nothing.
The ending was different than from what I chose to remember, only kind of anticlimactic. I thought I was dying, with regards to my strange symptoms, the apparent hole in my neck and my growing sense of apathy towards everyone: (society, the world, them, and the rest.)
I feel like I’m on drugs but actually I think I may have taken less than I gave, remaining here only in some strange deficit, only trying to not make too much noise. I’ve always been an only child, a middle kind of kid, centered in my simplicity and isolation, irresponsible, immortal, immature. This is definitely falling apart now and just trying to reassemble itself. My irrational behavior is hardly an excuse to continue breathing like this in here. I know its sunny where I’m going, when I wake up. It will all be new to me, as if I had never done this before again.
If its no accident then what am I supposed to call it? Living by the whim and will of ones unknown neighbor, in contrast to the one that gladly cuts your grass. Moving in one direction. Smells like springtime. Hardly an accident. Unused potential a matter of time. This is where beauty lies, the chance to turn ugly. Unchecked agression. Unknown prediction. Where will we go when this starts and how will we know by the time it’s really over?
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