Id see that the remnants of what once was fiery blaze Has now seemed to have been smothered. I would notice that there was no movement on the once lively log. That the home of the once peaceful ants was now quiet, empty, no more. A mere shell and a ghost of once used to be.
I would see this. And without a thought, i would once again set the log ablaze.
Id light the fire. And id see the ants that might have slept through the first calamity, And i would wish them the best.
My body makes weird noises It bubbles and snarls and snares Its like its trying to tell me something “Thank you”? “You fool!”? I have no idea what any of it means. I imagine beakers in my belly and tubes running up my chest. To my nose, my mouth, i expel what i can. But i have no idea what goes on underneath. And so i cant help. As efficient as id like.
Yeah this probably isnt a good thing. This probably isnt good for me.
On one hand, the robot feels. The robot knows what it wants, takes it. But has difficulty feeling what other people are feeling.
On the other hand, the god watches. The god orchestrates and plans things to go its way. But feels as though it doesnt have control over itself.
It manipulates and prods. It is calculated. It is watching. It is observant. It is careful, caring and emotionless. Yet full of it. And still yet unexpressive. Full of life. Trapped in their vessels; their roles.
This life we're living, this place we're at, this thing we're feeling. Its amazingly surreal. Like a waking dream that is our reality. Almost too good to be true. And while every rose has gotta have its thorns, even our thorns are, oh, so sweet. Maybe they remind us of how frail we are. How quick a ***** could draw blood. And even the blood is sweet. In a way. In a dark twisted beautifully morbid way. Our way.
Email is the most intimate form of communication. It is also the most frustrating. The proof is in the persistence.
I wanted so badly for it to feel like home. But it just didnt to me. Not at the time. And you cant force those things. I dont think so. Its like wanting to be in love with someone so bad. Its like loving the situation and how they treat you but just not being able to bring yourself to love them in the way that they love you. And it ******* *****. And it makes you feel terrible. Like a terrible person that doesnt deserve this goodness. That doesnt deserve for it to make sense and so it doesnt. But i guess thats just the way it goes some times. Thats life. And sometimes, it doesnt make any sense. But thats okay. Thats just the way it is.