R
There's a layer of naturality, truth, in here, in this existence, but it's obscured. It feels sort of real, but a bit uncanny, doesn't it? Like an IKEA display bedroom from hell. There's no magic, no ghosts, nothing obvious to tell us something is wrong. To give us an easy way out. Something is wrong, that's for sure. But what? I have two feet on the floor, two eyes in my head. I taste, I smell, I see, I feel. But it's all for nothing. Outside there's a beautiful world. Maybe a cute dog is playing in the grass, and my two beautiful children and my goddess wife are playing in the green, watching me, waiting for me. There's a doorway. I try to pass through it, but my face goes crashing into hard plastic. I can't get through. The doorway is a million miles wide and a million miles tall, and I can't see the ends of it and it's all blocked off. No way through. On my side there's just nothingness. Blackness for infinity. It closes in all around me. Nothing is changing but everything's changing. The darkness is suffocating and all of a sudden the grass is gone. The dog is gone. My family, gone. Hope, gone. If there ever was any. It's so black I could be spinning on my head at the speed of light and I wouldn't know the difference between that and a standstill. We're through the looking glass. Twilight Zone. It's as if we live in a child's dollhouse or one of John Calhoun's mice experiments. Maximum chaos, maximum despair, maximum suffering. I have no control. But everything is too wrong. Everything's gone too bad. The chaos is controlled. My madness is intended. My suffering is necessary. Entropy accelerated by a force beyond my control. Not content to let the cards fall where they may, but to watch us die like ants on fire. The ants tell each other it's an "act of God," no different than lightning. Really their tormentor is an asshole 13 year old Brad with a magnifying lens. Who is our God? Who's got the flame to our hair? Who's laughing at us? And, more importantly, what's the worse fate? That it's a cruel God, or realizing that the sadism is in our fellow man?
Sorry, friends. I've had a bit to drink.
Sorry, friends. I've had a bit to drink.
