@machiav .
there is THREAT in inactivity ; a shallow pool that drowns you the moment you step into it. it’s the reason why he’s so often busying himself. statistics rolling in yellow text, bright star wars scroll through his mind. he’s thinking numbers, statistics! logic and the history of its prevalence, of his own private watergate scandals and how to cover them up with things like bombs and metal and hands, delicate computer hands, so prettily amputated. but minds so active find themselves at losses eventually. too much has to become too little at some point, and that’s just like now. when he doesn’t like the feeling of living in his own body. doesn’t like the idea of his EXISTENCE ; and the reflection of himself, in extension to that.
there’s a foreboding wonder to it. empty and black like the eye. the eye’s the worst reminder, but between the holes in things and the dents he’s left lying around (the pits / loving, doting, gunmetal grey pits and craters he’s left) prowl can’t bother to get it FIXED. does it make him seem meek? trustworthy? hurt so much by circumstance as everyone else has, if not only to blend in with a common society? or is the opposite? a damaged face for the one who does damage? he hasn’t decided yet, particularly, but its his own shred of LAZINESS that he holds on to. a form of self-punishment to justify the means of future crime ——— of course it isn’t crime, though (even though lately he’s arguing with himself arguing with himself arguing with himself arguing with him
HIM! himself, the very mirrored picture of opensocket wonder, of taut and copper bleeding wires, an existence so inherently hallucinatory in its state that he knows he should not talk, should not engage ; should turn his mind to something else, but words hammer at him with the ferocity and violence of the very history on his hands and in frankness he is guilty. so guilty. crucifixion guilty, but not quite to the point that he will nail himself permanently to it. so many gather themselves in the concept of REDEMPTION ; is the same not owed to him? but then why does he conscientiously suffer, buzzing mind turning into artificial whitenoise just to keep the conversation (is pain and discomfort obligatory)? the mind is ill and malicious to think in forms like these. but needles have prodded at him too many times already, have done him enough harm for awhile now. there is no alternative. this is his alternative.
❛ ——— THERE’S NOTHING to discuss. ❜
