I ran. For all the gods and myself, I ran. No matter what, just keep running. Keep your blinders on. The world in your head is the only true vision anyway. What you see can freak you out, what is in your head may comfort you. What is in your heart, dying to break the multiple screen walls of universal validation before reality becomes published will always be our threshold of abuse we’re willing to tolerate. Take it. Take more. Find ways to give it to yourself. Heap upon your heart twice it’s desired content of suffering, and it may then offer the illusion of satisfaction.
I drank. For all the gods and myself, I drank. They say you can lead a horse to water but you can’t make it drink. My thirst is only juniored by my hunger, which is then dwarfed by my starvation. I will not be satisfied. I refuse. In fact, I only wish the most depraved of all hungers on all those I love the most. May your bellies forever ache and cease to be filled. May comfort never find you. I pray in the unlikely event you shall find food, that your metabolism whisks it away from your bodies swiftly and severely. Stay thirsty, my friends, your thirst is the only evidence of your participation in the race for the good of your own.
I fell. By all the gods and for no reason other than my own disbelief, I fell. The only thing I will ever fail at is the shit I don’t fucking try. We can do anything, if you haven’t noticed by now. If you will but pry apart the greedy, jealous shell of the mind we shall all at once, very quickly, moderately, and not at all understand what it is we are to do with the pulsing, sacred aura we fleshwrap ourselves in. Fall, get back up. Fall again. Get back up again. Fall yet thrice, this time roll around in the dirt in case there’s any extra thoughts in you that should take you away from your purpose. For if there shall be any fear in you that exists regarding your possible demise, it has already happened.
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