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Delusions of Grandeur
Created on 2005-11-26 22:52:40 (#8891764), last updated 2006-09-20
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BioIt seems like an angst ridden cliché to say things like “I’ve been to the darkest corner of this world and back”. It is an angst ridden cliché. Angst rode it so hard and so fast that even now is curled in the corner of the barn, sodden with its own sweat, panting with the hoarse despondency of the dying.
Even death doesn’t cover up the truth of the matter, though.
I’ve found that I live in a box. There are no windows. No doors. No lights. There are, however, four corners…dark, insidious corners. Corners that only give you two options: turn this way or that way. Seems like a tough decision? It isn’t. It doesn’t really matter which you choose when you live in a box. This way leads to that way and back. After decades of wandering those ways, you’ll grow envious of the dying cliché.
Death doesn’t cover up the truth but, in the end, does it even matter?
Even death doesn’t cover up the truth of the matter, though.
I’ve found that I live in a box. There are no windows. No doors. No lights. There are, however, four corners…dark, insidious corners. Corners that only give you two options: turn this way or that way. Seems like a tough decision? It isn’t. It doesn’t really matter which you choose when you live in a box. This way leads to that way and back. After decades of wandering those ways, you’ll grow envious of the dying cliché.
Death doesn’t cover up the truth but, in the end, does it even matter?
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