Accessible features conceal what is otherwise a blackened canvas, your eyebrows
arch into elongated V's, your nose blushes with its L-curve and your mouth is the
perfect O. All in all you're just a delicious set of letters I'll never be able to hear
or feel, because you're not mine, you're his, His, and I can't resent that because
it was your choice; and I'm a big believer that we all make our own choices
even if it's a grand illusion to cover up the fact that we're living under jungle-law;
dog-eat-cat-eat-mouse. Fucking Causality. Nothing you do matters because you
couldn't have done it any differently, so how can I blame you? I can't. And that hurts.
Slow dulcimer, Pinski's skull slowly erodes into nothing
but the pounding thud of stone against steel - 'How
does it feel?' I'd like to ask you, just once, and maybe
get an answer. Janine wandered into the sunlight, it
stung her eyes. 'This is why man moves slowly,' she
muttered to herself. 'A direct attempt to reach infinity
results in pain and nothing less.'
The pine trees swung gently in the autumn breeze,
I thought of you in your tanktop and folded-down
dungarees. The world was a simpler place back when
you could watch the sun slowly set over the banks
of the river without reverberations of bad hip-hop
from the nearest piece of iCrap. Modernity is bringing
us all closer together just to pound us into nothing;
Humanity's Final Solution.
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