Pretending I am smart, that my mind creates
powerful realities, which I guess I am and it does, but ultimately that means
nothing. Meritocracy is false, and for every wall men build, the honeysuckle
and kudzu pulls another one back into the Earth. I am more aware than ever, yet
just as blind as always. I’ve gotten to the point I don’t want to try at night,
too tired and exhausted, no respite in sight, just cut it all off and sit there
in the purple christmas lights listening to scratchy old albums, doing nothing,
no devices no words no art, just blank expressionless absorption of time,
waiting for some sort of conclusion which will never come.
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