How often have i contemplated time and wondered about the self and sought escapism and preached blankness at myself. Stared down death, made a thankless religion of isolation, meaninglessly purged and disgusted myself?
A blip on the screen, a spot on the map, bored, shiftless, needlessly revolted at my surroundings.
Action becomes aggression, automatic, arbitrary. Alienating. And how uselessly have i contemplated and dreamed and divorced myself from society...
My options are either to reject society or to integrate myself fully within it. What does the rejection entail?
Solitude. A frenzy of emptiness and grim repetitive rehearsals, always stealing myself to the point and never accomplishing a thing. As if freedom from my own monstrous complexes was an accomplishment.
Rejection of society is wise but isolation can never equate with freedom. So it is that i have maimed myself, away from the curse words of State Church Job Family, away from bland triumphant Ambition, but still the jumping dog of the bountiful money-god.
Jumping endlessly through the same decadent hoops.