Run Search > Nothing Found

I live in a grey hole in the wall. To keep the outside out. Safe for now in the cool. Another day of existing comes to an end. I scrawl and dream. Digital etchings. My dead art to appease cynical senses, drowned in dry reds and bitter blacks. But every day I do because I must, while I know must is another mask of the absurd. No meaning, no hope, no faith or saviours. Just me and a dizzying regressions of blank searches.

I’m here because I can’t be anything else. A fixed-state particle descended from long guttered fires. Failing to change. Failing to see the point. I mimicked a changing being. I dragged about me the effects of the living. A simple beast of simple desires. Human make do. Human is appeased. Human is fulfilled. Human does not want to end.

I still feel the fallout raining down. Burning embers that mutate the rotting exterior. To expose the changeless form beneath. Every fabricated smile pushes me down another rung of that abyss. Pointless gestures growing to grotesque lies. But now I push the mind beyond the speed of sleep. A bombardment of sonic sensations and broken text designed to mislead and exhaust. When sleep finally catches hold I will be unaware. Free from relentless recursion a while, free to pretend it will be the last time.

A bleak wind was upon me this afternoon.

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