/lit/ - Literature

Salt, sugar, fat. I’m such a slave to cravings. Indulgence offers unconsciousness. Petty pleasures are within my grasp, innumerable consumables. Throwing morsels into the void. Do I miss her body or her company? My miss. Miss is so replaceable, there’s creatures crawling everywhere. Desirables are not on dating apps, though I'm sure there's two or three luscious leaves on chilly trees. Be careful not to let your body go, worse comes to worse I'll starve. They want security more than sex, I just want a sublime mind. How can one be content without desire? Who can topple framework into the fire? Status, power. Time withering away, prolonged weekends poison me. Free time will be my downfall, I wish I was a slave. Freedom weighs upon my soul, like Atlas wields the world, part and parcel with its possibilities. Who were my ancestors? Have any broken the veil of obscurity? My mind is master, but not masterful. It garners worthless currency. And what do shekels buy? Status and security, comfort and complacency. Give me everlasting ecstasy. Sometimes breathing is enough. Fear of pain, disfiguration, dismemberment, diminishing the whole. But I am not whole. Why was there so much blood? Death and harm possess a certain charm, exciting when I feel alarm. Certainty dulls intricacies, what could be florid just falls flaccidly. You’re a monkey! You’ve abandoned trees for hierarchies, but they bear sweeter fruit. Build more walls or tear them down! These half baked barriers frustrate me. What on earth is music? I’d like to know if original thoughts exist, or if all thoughts are simply syntheses of data’s chance encounters. I see why they do it. Why they knock back brews and look at screens, breathe vapour in and chase green paper, woo a wife and plant some kids on purchased acres. To serve society or not? Preen and polish the lump of clay that is your existence. Why does my unconscious terrorize me? Take a look at what you are, observe and understand. Do not allow repugnance to bury the unsightly with soil, for fatuous filler obfuscates the mind’s eye view, and smothered seeds still germinate. Remember at the crossroads? You saw the light shine true! You said you had some books to read, and slid back into the loo.