Wit 0

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[[span class="blackout"]]Nobody ever expects it, and, let's[[/span]] be honest, [[span class="blackout"]]you were in no way[[/span]] expecting [[span class="blackout"]]anything to happen of note[[/span]] today[[span class="blackout"]], given the emptiness not[[/span]] only [[span class="blackout"]]of the day but of your whole life, that same, dreary, day in, day out,[[/span]] living and surviving [[span class="blackout"]]and living and[[/span]] still you keep fucking [[span class="blackout"]]living so now we have to do something, and all of[[/span]] the [[span class="blackout"]]sudden the fuck-ton of[[/span]] emptiness [[span class="blackout"]]you had becomes a whirlwind[[/span]] of pain [[span class="blackout"]]and sadness, but reality and humanity and[[/span]] that //spark//, [[span class="blackout"]]you know the one, the **magic** spark that pushes us[[/span]] towards [[span class="blackout"]]and away from greatness and history,[[/span]] the knife[[span class="blackout"]]s blade that controls and fights and[[/span]] sharpens your [[span class="blackout"]]wit, until, wit, there is nothing left to[[/span]] witness, [[span class="blackout"]]and without a witness how[[/span]] can you possibly exist, [[span class="blackout"]]but of course you can't, nobody can,[[/span]] who thinks [[span class="blackout"]]that they are truly worthy[[/span]] of self[[span class="blackout"]]-observation, this[[/span]] perverse [[span class="blackout"]]internal leer as you mentally reach out to all that makes your domain, your mind, soul,[[/span]] and [[span class="blackout"]]body, and body, and flesh and blood and organs and skin and[[/span]] rot and [[span class="blackout"]]life and pain and only, every so often, if one is especially lucky, you are given[[/span]] the chance to create [[span class="blackout"]]and there is no true parallel to that of[[/span]] progenitor, [[span class="blackout"]]the sculptor //ex nihilo//, exhale now and never excel even[[/span]] in emptiness, [[span class="blackout"]]but then you realize that it is all that[[/span]] --we destroy-- [[span class="blackout"]]transforms in our minds' eyes, and what was[[/span]] nihilo [[span class="blackout"]]is now ex -- escape velocity is never easy[[/span]] to obtain, [[span class="blackout"]]of course, you live by that mantra, stuck between two forces of gravity, pushed and pulled and stomped and lifted up, up, up but only just high enough that when they let[[/span]] you [[span class="blackout"]]go, you are tumbling, falling, plummeting,[[/span]] witnessing your own [[span class="blackout"]]inevitable death until you finally **crash**, dive down deep into the[[/span]] loving [[span class="blackout"]]embrace of our captors, the parasitic[[/span]] disease [[span class="blackout"]]we call family, lost and aghast in a cavalcade of needful things, useless things,[[/span]] things that [[span class="blackout"]]wit not to[[/span]] witness, [[span class="blackout"]]losing who //they// are to[[/span]] the inevitable[[span class="blackout"]], creeping, exciting, logic-defying truth, that while all things may end in death,[[/span]] you [[span class="blackout"]]are not all things, you[[/span]] are [[span class="blackout"]]not[[/span]] death, [[span class="blackout"]]you are not a witness, you are not,[[/span]] witnessing //ex [[span class="blackout"]]vivo[[/span]] en nihilo//, [[span class="blackout"]]the memories of nihilo[[/span]] exhale and [[span class="blackout"]]exhaust and terrify and[[/span]] multiply [[span class="blackout"]]extracting the essence of what it means[[/span]] to forget, [[span class="blackout"]]and there it is, that is the[[/span]] sin [[span class="blackout"]]that we endeavor to[[/span]] oblige[[span class="blackout"]], the errata we long to erase, nihilo y ,,nihilo,, y[[/span]] nihilo[[span class="blackout"]], until we once again remain, and return, but where do you[[/span]] return [[span class="blackout"]]when the only scrap of[[/span]] life [[span class="blackout"]]that you cling to is held[[/span]] to [[span class="blackout"]]wit only by the witless one, withering and wilting under[[/span]] the eyes [[span class="blackout"]]of the observers, the observed, the ex-ambassadors of the land where dreams live[[/span]] until they are [[span class="blackout"]]dreamt, a dying planet[[/span]] hemorrhaging [[span class="blackout"]]the hopes and nightmares and compilations of what was once[[/span]] //you//, [[span class="blackout"]]but has never truly been your**self**, of course,[[/span]] nothing can ever [[span class="blackout"]]truly hope to be **self**, after all, **self** is as **self**less as **self** does, and does the **self**[[/span]] salvage [[span class="blackout"]]the selvage end of our untimely strings of fate, the ever-woven tapestry of irrelevant[[/span]] emptiness, [[span class="blackout"]]the taunts that echo through the empty school prisons, the impacts that rock[[/span]] the [[span class="blackout"]]very[[/span]] foundation [[span class="blackout"]]upon which //self//[[/span]] is built[[span class="blackout"]], and[[/span]] with [[span class="blackout"]]it, the death of observation and the reincarnation of identification as commodity,[[/span]] the capitalistic nightmare [[span class="blackout"]]that gives power to those without wit, those who have[[/span]] the right [[span class="blackout"]]stuff, the special sauce, the magic that flows out through the mind and[[/span]] __onto the page__[[span class="blackout"]], the ex-sculptors now consumed into //nihilo//, those special few who deign[[/span]] to inscribe [[span class="blackout"]]their images and memories and hatred and longing and memories, of course memories, we remember, remember members whose membranes we punctured just to get[[/span]] a better view, [[span class="blackout"]]a glimpse into that which we cannot be, those we are[[/span]] unable to live [[span class="blackout"]]as, the un-un-dead, living[[/span]] amongst [[span class="blackout"]]the monsters of the digital worlds we conceive just to lock away on a server, the server who witnesses our[[/span]] greed, [[span class="blackout"]]the child, the idea, the[[/span]] //genesis// [[span class="blackout"]]ex nihilo ex genesis, the one who is left[[/span]] -- [[span class="blackout"]]you suddenly realize, you[[/span]] --**__alone__**-- [[span class="blackout"]]are a witness to today.[[/span]]

Wit 0

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