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Sep 2012
Let’s drink to memories of purpose.
        Let’s drink as a visible testament to our apathy and indifference. Raise our glasses because nothing we do matters in the end, does it. Let’s sit here wasting our time because nothing matters and those who think otherwise are blind and thoughtless.
        Can’t they see? Aren’t they too privy to the questions? Do the questions not haunt them in loud lucid thoughts come when breathing is slow and measured, half-studying white ceilings, minds anywhere but in our bodies, eyes open and unseeing, projecting visualized masses of shapeless forms, rendering the ceiling a makeshift screen. Not concrete, solid; ambiguous considerations, ideas swimming through my head, spilling out my mind on to the ceiling where I study them until they’re covered by new ideas and connections formed, fantastic or ordinary. I cease to associate myself with anything but my operating consciousness. Varying degrees of metanalysis and chains linking like sin waves. Tangents everywhere – can’t see the curves obscured by infinite straight lines pointing slightly different directions, solid black blindness forms another canvas onto which I vigorously splash my thoughts like paint or something more violent. Constant reset, overlapping images recycling canvases and backdrops sans intent. This is just what happens.
        Let’s drink to all this nonsense, let’s laugh at our impending doom, and cheer away the world’s worries, stave away the gloom.
Jake Espinoza
Written by
Jake Espinoza  Ann Arbor
(Ann Arbor)   
660
 
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