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Poetry » Life » Life Goes On font: B s : A A A . width: full 3/4 1/2
Author: Jacob and His Dream Machine
Fiction Rated: M - English - Supernatural/Sci-Fi - Published: 11-16-07 - Updated: 11-16-07 - id:2439352

The first things that go are the faces. It starts with a mild skew and a "do I know you?" Soon they do not move quite right with the body. Their gaze must become more focused on their target, because they do not turn until the neck is contorted comically. I only saw in profiles. I saw the side facing its target, and then I saw another side drawing into a different target. I had a hard time focusing on the eyes.

Whenever the faces should have faced me, there was a skip, like a missing scene on film. "That's how they get ya. They get ya from the insides", said one hole to the other. "They get ya right where you're pink and weak; the heart's cunt." With all of their filthy moving. "That sex chaos". They get at us with all that movement, all of that...energy. Alls that ever happens is they over exert themselves. How could they thermodynamically do anything else? Life goes on. "Bullshit. The next cocksucker who tries to feed ya that line is afraid. That fear is all it takes to make an otherwise upstanding person into a skull-fucking monster." Life goes on, what bullshit. It is all incidental. , stinking fuckup. Everything you are and ever will be is dependant on the good grace of others. You are the whim of blind mothers love. Who are you, walking abortion. Your life is a repeat. A generic skipping record, fucking, shitting, and dying.

The celestial ejaculate, random expansion. Everything finite moving infinitely in all directions has hypothetically absolute potential. It is this potential these cocksuckers try to use against us. Nevertheless, they will get it in the end. Ha! Damn right, they will. That moving shit, it wants to take us all up.
They want to keep moving until they stretch over our infinity. However, we are not understood. It is not so much that infinity is on one side of some spectrum, and zero is on the other. Things to outrun and run towards. They are the same and different, two coital absolutes nonsensical when separated. Their is only so much matter. It does not create or destroy; it is just there in different sizes. Now it has potential. Therefore, our pretention is destined to fail because every beginning is defined as an eventual failure. Death.
Stretch something. It will break down. Life goes on until it does not. Then things get back to normal.

What ya have to do is drop all pretenses.
Pretense you say? How else do you get a whole? How do you hope to even see the picture when all you have is a scatter fuck tapestry?
Drop all pretenses. Everything you have ever learned is fractured. Drop all Gods, all morals. Forget your ego, that fat son of bitch has been riding your ass since day one, fucking up all your good things. Be naked, exposed and humbled, so that everything will be new, beautiful, and brief.
Start. Over.

But all that mooving. Why do we moove so much. It is what you are! You did this to yourself, so see it out to the clipping stuttered end. The moving is all wrong, too. You spastic blind man. If you knew the little touches defining your experience here, I swear to God, you would shit out your tongue. So everything gets segmented and defined. Everything becomes time consuming; you actually think you consume time. You are on a stationary fast track to death, everything passing through the space above the eyes. You are afraid to die, and you think the measure to which you will die is somehow related to time. This is where quality comes from. Things take on qualities as a measurement (often wrong) of what is worth your time. You are running out of time, as you perceive it.

I submit to you, that this ultimate fear of death comes from your inability to understand time. This is the ultimate loss of control. Time fucks everybody.
Hypothetically, in every dimension we can fully realize, first second and third have the potential of movement in every direction and is only limited by their plane. We cannot understand any dimension above third because we do not perceive to live in it. Logically, time is not, based on the behavior of the other dimensions, limited to a linear motion. Life goes on more briefly and more significantly than you will ever appreciate.



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