Aug 2012
My world. What is the definition of "my world?" Is it the earth as a Whole? Or is it simply my perception of the earth...as a Hole. I'm here to stumble my way through these observations and make sense of my surroundings; seeing as You are (presumedly) on the same Earth as I am, I can only give you my account as the earth as I See it, and let you make the Comparisons as according. Perhaps we shall See the same earth in this, if this tale has fallen into the hands of a "like Mind." If it hasn't, well...then you can judge this all for yourself; an entirely new perception.
If you are reading this in hopes of a love Story, on the off-chance of finding solace for whatever Mistakes you have made, or of finding hope in a happy Ending made of whatever Wrongs have been done upon you, then I must let you Know in advance, this isn't any of that. This is a Declaration of Independence; my truthful account, my soul-bearing, eyes-wide-open testimony that
This Has All Become A *******.
My story is the menial, self-congested tale of a society gone rampant.
The year is 1922, and the air is frigid with self-absorbed disgust; none but I can see this. To the rest, We of 1922 are Nothing but Jubilee.
If you are reading this, then your year is at least 1972; I pray that my Here and Now, this 1922 era of Superficiality is the shadow of your here and now. I pray that the earth you Know is the beauty that I seek, that this radiation of Filth has died and that everyone now Understands what we went through, what I'm going through.
If you don't, well...maybe this account will help.
If you are reading this in hopes of a love Story, on the off-chance of finding solace for whatever Mistakes you have made, or of finding hope in a happy Ending made of whatever Wrongs have been done upon you, then I must let you Know in advance, this isn't any of that. This is a Declaration of Independence; my truthful account, my soul-bearing, eyes-wide-open testimony that
This Has All Become A *******.
My story is the menial, self-congested tale of a society gone rampant.
The year is 1922, and the air is frigid with self-absorbed disgust; none but I can see this. To the rest, We of 1922 are Nothing but Jubilee.
If you are reading this, then your year is at least 1972; I pray that my Here and Now, this 1922 era of Superficiality is the shadow of your here and now. I pray that the earth you Know is the beauty that I seek, that this radiation of Filth has died and that everyone now Understands what we went through, what I'm going through.
If you don't, well...maybe this account will help.
