Ellipsis

As I pulled away, the disfigured shape started to pound me. Beat me. Live me. I felt as though I had no control over my body, my world, my universe, their universe,
their entity, or their accomplishments. I stand alone among millions, being berated and lied to, cheated on. I am slowly becoming we. And we are slowly becoming
nothing. A void. Null. A code and creedence to the infinite gray stretching out before me. It was soy sauce that liberated the octopus. Soy sauce. Contemplative.
In the events of what I had experienced, we had willingness to live and breathe among the infinite. To dull the blade, to love the blade, we all die. I all die.
You all die. Take Thursday for example. I got in my car and killed myself. Shortly afterward, I drove to work. All my friends came to see me say goodbye. But instead,
they said hello. I lived for the moment, yet I was the moment. We were the moment. My insanity began to take hold. The stars were aligned in my hands. The mass
existence of all time and being once again, stretched before me. After me, as well. It was the monkey who jumped upon the caterpillar that commenced the third world
war. Every living yellow shape disappeared. The oxygen from earth combusted. All was dead. Someone removed my scalp and skull, and squirted adrenaline onto my brain
with a syringe. Bleeding, buying, breathing. The paper writes itself. The combination to Stacy Lefler's lock is backwards. I always remembered her long blonde hair.
The way she danced in the solar system. The way she traveled the universe. The language only she could speak. Her and Davy Jones had peace at last. And then, not.
Stacy and Davy, along with their million children, always found a way to get along. "Bless their broken hearts", exclaimed the Chariot. "Who were to knew, that if not
to exist, to not see the numbers one to two, that we would love everlasting joy." I awoke. I lived. My heart heavily beating. My lungs barely breathing. I stumble over
the kitchen fetching something to eat. I see my life. We see my life. You see my life. You are now me. You bleed the heart eternal. You rake the leaves in the lawn.
You tell your mom to fuck off and go back to bed like the stupid bitch she is. You smash your head across the pavement outside. You wait for the ambulance to arrive.
You clasp your hands and pray to god. You float and ebb. You become an egg. You are now a cracked egg. As you are laid upon the hot griddle, you slowly begin to cook.
You come now, retard. You are the bully you hated. You are what everyone called you. You are them. You are everyone. You are the non-sensical void. You are the lunch
period after history class. You are the road to perdition. You are the stairway to the infinite stars. You are the collapsible mast. You become we. We turn our back to
the stars. We welcome ourselves. We pat. We dry. We farm. We tell us we're me. We lie to the darkness. We glow fluorescence. The duck and the lamb. The duck and the
lamb. The duck and the lamb. The duck and the lamb. The duck and the lamb. The duck and the lamb. Retard, they call you. The duck and the lamb. The duck and the lamb.
The fists, we pull. The fists, we lay. The fists, we break. The fists, we are. We are, the fists. The complications. The Rolls Royce. The 2012. The 1995. The 1876.
The 948. The 432. The 2. Negativity. Blasphemy. Watching TV. TV watches you. Lifting to the electric. The air. The air. Bless. Born. Brother. Coordination. Video.
Okay. Reboot yourself. Don't worry about her, she's just on her period. Always. Screen. Screen. We hate ourselves. We, you, I, me, us, them, they, that, those, the,
thesis. Ivory and topaz. Why is it that every time the smell of alcohol lingers in the air, sickness comes soon after? I swear, it's just the smell. I don't know why.
Kind of pisses me off, because I fucking love to drink. I fucking love to degrade myself to a standard that I don't even fucking agree with. Never understood why.
Just sort of did. But, as I reach out further and further into life, I find myself in degrading situations. My stomach, my loins, the green on hole 8 of River City
Golf Course, they all hate me. Hate me. Hate me inevitably. Closer. I said, closer. Ouch. Too close. I don't know. I really don't. I'm holding the gun. I kill myself.
I don't. I love. I attribute. I contextify. I liberate. I I I I I I I I I. You know what has four eyes and can't see? A blind kid with glasses. What a fucking moron.
Why would a blind kid wear glasses? Fucking moron. I'd kill her. I'd kill him. I'd kill me. Because that is me. Because I am me. I keep being me. I can't stop being
me. I hate myself. I hate the love. I love the hate. I am the hate. I am myself. I am I. My colors, so pale. The colors of childhood. I'm being shot. I hate myself.
I love myself. I constipate the flow of reality within the dimension of plea bargaining. I witness the love I once decorated so brightly with cosmos. Reality. Shift.
Shit. Blotches. Ink. Windows. Blanch the carrots. Blow the joint up. Light the joint up. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. It's formulaic, right? What I'm supposed to
do? Can't believe it. Can't fucking believe it. I'm going to kill the one person I never thought I could. And that's nothing. The decoration of me. Time in itself.
I am time. I'm going to kill time. Killing time before it kills me. Time will kill me, but I am killing time. Glass. See-through. Transparent. Transparency. LIGHT.
LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT.
LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT.
LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT.
LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT.
LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT.
LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT.
LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT.
LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT.
LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT.
LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT.
LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT.
LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT.
LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT.
LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT.
LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT. LIGHT.
Rebooting...
Rebooting...
Rebooting...

Hello! And welcome to the discount furniture item! I would love to inquisit you to one of our FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinest delect-

Rebooting...
Rebooting...
Rebooting...
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help

Rebooting...
Rebooting...
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Rebooting...
Rebooting...
Rebooting...
Reboot timed out. Booting other OS. OS name "Happiness From Aloft A Tower" booting...
Booting...
Booting...
Booting...

what is this? where am I? what is the shape being represented on my face? where is this euphoria coming from? i need to find myself. where am i? why don't i care?
oh joy! i don't care! the opinions of an unkempt mind are the loving balance of what i could once consider myself to love one another without adopting themselves!
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