Monday, September 30, 2013


is such a feasible solution
when I think about my failures.

Events slither and cast
their sickening gaze upon me:
great angst seeps out of the sponge,
already saturated with concepts. 

My mind becomes useless,
momentarily enslaved by
the criticism of bodies more
dignified than me.

No knowledge is gained,
only self-pity is exemplified.

Death is the cessation of knowledge. 


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