Day: 17956
To whom it may concern;
Isn’t it great to know that one seemingly negative thing that you have done can erase all of the positives you have created; that all of the smiles you have shown are wiped away with just one frown? It is the story of my life…
I am sick to death of the game; it is without purpose and it is not fun. It must be the invention of some cruel being that shall remain hidden behind the guise of evil till the end of all we know is upon us and he shall be revealed. What will we see; perhaps ourselves or some once beautiful face corrupted by want, desire and every other form of vile repugnant quest to feed our inner child. From whence does this darkness come?
Some have pondered the origins of the soul; others the nature of man in relation to the natural forces all around him. Still, others have merely existed to feed and work and sleep according to the mandates of a time clock and punch card. What then remains on the final day when labor ceases and one faces the inevitable arm chair and bed pan of old age? He then becomes the work of others who are slaves to the same task master. What a cruel world when all one sees is despair played out like a merry-go-round; it cycles like the moon in phase and rushes shoreward and back in some lunar phenomena. How I pity the stars fixed in an enormous vacuum of space destined to glow and die over countless millennia; their only legacy is but a memory seen from a light year’s distance from earth and beyond. Must I go on? It has been twenty four hours and the tide of energy has turned again to find me here alone once more. It feels like a numbing cold within my brain as I press the keys one finger at a time.
To whom it may concern;
Isn’t it great to know that one seemingly negative thing that you have done can erase all of the positives you have created; that all of the smiles you have shown are wiped away with just one frown? It is the story of my life…
I am sick to death of the game; it is without purpose and it is not fun. It must be the invention of some cruel being that shall remain hidden behind the guise of evil till the end of all we know is upon us and he shall be revealed. What will we see; perhaps ourselves or some once beautiful face corrupted by want, desire and every other form of vile repugnant quest to feed our inner child. From whence does this darkness come?
Some have pondered the origins of the soul; others the nature of man in relation to the natural forces all around him. Still, others have merely existed to feed and work and sleep according to the mandates of a time clock and punch card. What then remains on the final day when labor ceases and one faces the inevitable arm chair and bed pan of old age? He then becomes the work of others who are slaves to the same task master. What a cruel world when all one sees is despair played out like a merry-go-round; it cycles like the moon in phase and rushes shoreward and back in some lunar phenomena. How I pity the stars fixed in an enormous vacuum of space destined to glow and die over countless millennia; their only legacy is but a memory seen from a light year’s distance from earth and beyond. Must I go on? It has been twenty four hours and the tide of energy has turned again to find me here alone once more. It feels like a numbing cold within my brain as I press the keys one finger at a time.
