I lied.
I don't feel sorry for it.
I was never good with the opening sentence of the shit Im writing.
Guess this will do.
I haven't got a clue why did the idea of posting here turned on a light bulb in this night that never seems to come, or pass, I might have been awake for 4 years or more but probably less.
You see, these fucking eyes keep staring at me from the corners of my awareness, and I know they are my eyes and they are dying of laughter. Then I join them and start mocking myself and I am so good at it that I forget I am mocking myself and I forget that I have a terrible sense of humor and that my mocking is poor and then the mockery is doubled but aimed double down my throat.
You poor ladies and gents reading this have heard of Sisyphus, right? I really think I feel more sorry for that fucking rock he is pushing with hate and despise. This really had no point at fucking all.
Anasthesia. Thats what it must be. My bruised ego has thought he could erase the whole fucking void with some anesthetic spiritual selfloving "onlygoodthings" charade. Don't feel sorry because my ego is bruised. I tried to kill it. To drown it in the universal piss. To make it commit suicide. Long story short, it survived.
I am such a phony.
I want to talk to Oracle. If you know her, please tell her she should want to talk to me too.
