Life is a stranglehold on my soul. There is just not enough information to make a decision concerning the vague shadow puppet mentality of it. It seems to be a thicket of doom. I build knowing it will be diffused by time’s crushing indifference to humanity.
But should I not contemplate my fate? Why of course I should. Just to stir up the beehive. Just to question the heavens. Just to be a thorn in the side of that ubiquitous joker that runs this asylum. Push me, I fall. Cut me, I bleed. Only through questioning does the answer allude. I am overwhelmed with the truculent turbine of alleys that swirl in this somewhat lonely melody called life. – Sinz