I don’t know if there is supposed to be a “c” anywhere in that title… but…
…this is bullshit.
I tried it on. I did. but…
the blog (ing) thing…
But nowhere near as effective or awesomely fuckin’ ahhhhhh….
I think I gave it a chance. A sustained go-around. I don’t know. All of the sudden… it has re-become was it was. Not devolve… it’s not devolution, more… a realization of a freeze… or non-movement.
Or, better, lateral bend and jumps and squats…
I’ve been in the same mundane, retarded place for-ev-er!
Just the blinking lights in front of my face have changed in pattern, swirled a bit differently. so much so that it seems like growth.
Nietzsche would roll over in his grave.
So… game over.
Not that anyone reads this…. cares… or what-the-fuck-ever.
I censor when I need not censor because it’s in ‘public view’. What the fuck is that? That’s the anti- heal.
Information is key. Giving up information makes one weaker and weaker. Or so I abide.
So, I’m just going to get over that whole thing. Because no longer will I write anything that isn’t as accurate as it can be… as me as I’m able to distill.
Writing was my only pure form of expression… language… at certain points in life. And now I rape it with metaphysics… too many layers… too much. Rape it hard… so hard and so frequently that I feel that it’s okay and, more than okay… normal.
There’s something wrong with that.
I am doomed to continue this pattern of lateral mundanity.
Lets make the same mistakes over and over kiko!!!
Later proverbial skater as the folks at 23rd street hang their hats.