Beings Are Such Funny Creations
This is a message broadcast publicly but intended privately. What the hell does that mean? It means that if you are reading this then you obviously picked up something along the way. Better have that checked out - I wouldn't want anyone to be carrying around anything even slightly contagious.
As you are reading this please take note that nothing is as it seems because in prison no one can hear you scream. If that is true then why is it that I hear the screams of pain and anguish long, long into the night? I must be delirious. Perhaps it's something they put in the water. I'm sure the air is sacrosanct so no need to fret about that one.
Along the way I've been taking notes but unfortunately I haven't had such desire. Even though that is circular logic is does beg the question, what is remembered and what is forgot?
It's funny that in remembrance I've already died such a horrible, horrible death that the stench continues to follow to this very day. Some call it the sweet smell of success while others look to the sky in their typical up-turned nose fashion. What's up?
Moving randomly from place to place ensures that the tail loses it's way or at the very least gives up it's ghostly form. Pointing fingers do tell the tale do they not? In any case I could care less, pesky fleas though they may be quite pesky do not warrant much more attention than a swat here and there to help keep planetary alignments on track. Veering off course and off-kilter isn't in the manual so be sure to scratch that off your list of things to do while bored, lonely or even desperate. Ah yes, desperate, that surely rings a few bells around here.
I better draw the curtain before someone sees me but I have so much more fun sneaking out the back, circling around and setting up field ops of a different character. Or is that nature? It's definitely something different that much can be assured.
Making sense through machinery tends to leave one empty and dry of wit, humor and that light-hearted step into oblivion. What that is called, I forget. I guess I should have taken notes in 'class'. Oh the travails of mice and Men!
I figure this is a good time to repent and go to heaven but I'm not done yet torturing a few more lost souls whose rudder seems to have taken the shoals by storm. But it's all done by purpose and plan, right? Sometimes I wish that my ears would work better so that I can better enjoy the depths of my own laughter ringing against the walls of time and destiny. Come to think of it maybe that is the problem in the first place.
I do so love the enjoyment experiencing the expression called 'me'. I could entertain myself for infinity but I'm already busy doing that so I've no time left over for other matters. If you see me 'working' go ahead and take it as seriously as you wish. It can be hard to try and keep a straight face in a room full of Debbie Downers clad in armor, spear and empty-headed nonsense so forgive me for every once in a while creating a crack in the very fabric of time, space and your very own projection booth.
So if you've read thus far you now know about as much as you did 3 trillion years ago and like a hamster speeding their way into that very same oblivion life continues to revolve around and around you enveloping your sense of fullfillment, drive and ambition with a 'can do' attitude.
Perhaps the wheel will come loose and travel down the road on it's own way all the while taking you with it because without you there is no driving force. And when the steam finally runs out and out you pop I'll be right there most probably laughing and saying "That was great! Do it again!"
Beings are such funny creations.