it is easy to get lulled into a stupor with the confidence Camus oozes even as he contradicts himself. he makes you believe every word to be indisputable while extolling the virtues of contradiction. look too closely and the snake oil salesman leers back through the print. but isn’t that the point in absurdism? to […]
he blew in like trash on the breeze in search of a dumpster fire to rest his head there was more but the dream fades as i try and recall it something something morose i imagine i either need to write faster or dream harder this leaving things half formed is for theodicists or men […]
allow me my honesty stepping out methodically it’s just the beast in me cut off from reality awash with insanity a past of poverty flash frozen rigidity of what is and what will never be trying to sell my soul for recreational use, the wear and tear and all the abuse, the setting sun seems […]
i suppose not every little thing is a matter of perspective suffocating from lack of oxygen at the top of the world or drowning in a kiddie pool either way it goes you’re still just a rotting corpse i guess the cold air up high would preserve you better and the toddlers and the urine […]
never a feeling of hopelessness like when it seems the light must come soon holding on by torn fingernails to cliffs edge while stones and dirt shower down knowing at any moment the levees will burst forth and drown everything in a torrent of uncaring force the last desperate motes of hope like settling dust […]
Mike's Manic Word Depot 