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The night God ate a twinkie 2001-10-12 - 3:00 a.m. They keep repeating, blurring, I'm blurring, indistinct smudges between the lines of some impressionist Japanese calligraphy. I feel like some external force has condemned me to suffer for something, but I don't know what. I can't put my finger on it, anything. The pages keep moving too fast, the words scrawl out in hasty images. They're like trains passing me by, one car after the other. I'm trying to catch them, to get on, be taken inside and enjoy the nice quiet calm interior. I feel my mind wandering again, not focusing, I need it to focus, it has to focus, where is it going? Am I happy with myself now? Heh, it's all a ruse, an attempt by myself to destroy me. I can't imagine for the life of me a worse torturer or executioner than yourself. You are capable of far more horrid things than anyone else because you hold the keys to what is horrid. Jangle jangle, clink clink. I can't wait to see what cell comes up next in this animated nightmare. GuestbookWritten and photographic content, 2001-2070, Gemini Inc., All rights reserved. Disclaimer. |