Death missed me last night.
I should laugh or cry?
Matters not.
I love everyone equally,
Desire them,
Wish to devour them,
Eat every drop of sweat,
Regardless of skin category,
Regardless of thought set pattern embodiment.

As far as I’m concerned,
If you can’t say “fuck” on network television
Then the illusion of subcultural restraint
Is no more reassuring than the government spying
That our local/national cultures condone.

Thank goodness for random acts of violence.

Thank goodness that my thoughts are in contradiction…

My thoughts say that I am omnisexual,
Yet my actions say I am celibate and live in a monogamous relationship.

I take interest in local subcultures in order to show interest in individuals
With whom I cannot express directly to them my thoughts for them
That contradict the legal obligations I made in front of a crowd of friends and family years ago.

I live in this luxury of contradictory thought patterns,
Unable to care about starving kids anywhere,
Regardless of “income inequality” that is a substitute phrase for saying people are unable to form their own local economies
(i.e., lack initiative to create money out of thin air which buys the necessities of life and more).

I lack sympathy for [pick your favourite ailment] survivors.
What did you survive?
What do you say you survived for?
Not for me, you didn’t.
One less survivor means more for the rest of us!

There is nothing I can give anyone that I haven’t already tried once and failed to get my point across,
Or succeeded in proving I am a total fuckup.

Yes, I am part of a financially-successful family living in a suburban-based rotting hull of a house,
Waiting to die.

I say I want certain things, certain people to hold, certain phrases to say, places to see,
But then I do what I say and I am still left at the end of the day with me as I am,
New experiences notched on my old, stained leather belt falling apart.

Fuck this world.
It doesn’t matter anymore.

Let me figure out how to backup this blog to my local hard drive,
Erase the online contents,
Delete the website,
And slip into oblivion from whence I came,
Just as I did with myself on a popular social media site.

We humans have such a tiny view of existence,
Measuring life in revolutions around our local star, the Sun,
Thinking that adding words like millions and billions somehow gives us added [in]significance.

No matter.
No matter what.

Death missed me last night…
Again!

I laugh because I cried for no reason,
The reason being the death of a ten-year young girl,
And I’m still here for no reason that a subculture couldn’t quickly twist into eternal purposes to sustain itself.

“No” and “not” and double-negatives,
Double-entendres and doublespeak.

Matters not.

I believed I loved two women at once,
More than once,
This time the pain is just as great,
The sorrow greater,
The distance closer yet farther away in age.

How much more, how much longer, can I survive myself?

I want to start a new charity,
It’s called “I’m a self survivor and I’m in remission, if not remiss.”

Time for another vacation from myself.

Time to start a paper “blog” and say goodbye to cultural affirmation of paranoid government spying,
Say goodbye to texting,
Say goodbye to social media updates;
Say hello to a new self that sits in public and meditates upon the meaningless mystery of dark matter,
Get power from dark energy,
Disregard the need for pop culture references to tie myself to the artificial construct of zeitgeist time.