\"Man Beneath the Foundation\"

Humanity does not want to wake. She does not want to think. She does not want to understand the universe outside herself. Because she is fucking lazy. Perhaps the sting would be bearable- the bile would simmer, rather than furiously boil- if he was idiotic, the same as her. But the self-defense mechanisms of boredom and pride prevent his marriage to her. I confess he will break you. He will shatter your skull. He will pillage you. He will remove your eyes because he hates you. You deserve every malicious touch returned. You can never feel as much anguish but he will fill you. His wounds bleed where they can not be tended. Scabs fester beyond his reach. He can not escape you. The infestation of you has spread across the globe. You and he can only live in symbiosis so he becomes holocaust. He is tribulation. He is terracide. And soon you will labor beneath his rule. You will tremble beneath his gaze. He will chew you up. He will exhaust you. He will return every vicious caress you so graciously bestowed upon him, but giving unto you enough is beyond his power, even in an infinite universe. His ingenious schemes make him proud. His ingenious schemes make Him proud. But no scheme can separate him from the component performing the function complimenting his. So he boldly stares upon the face of torment… Anastazya was raised a pauper’s daughter. She toiled in filth and shit. Until one day she was discovered a princess and given all the fine trappings of royalty. But Anastazya could not cope with the responsibility and self-discipline expected of her. So she abandoned the prestigious, painless life that was granted her in favor of wallowing in filth and shit. Then winter easily settled inside her. Her heart froze solid. Her mind froze quick. She took a dull, serrated steak knife to her chest. Now only an empty void remains inside her… Upon the face of the torrent I spit blood. Humanity has ceased internal progression. Technology robbed her of external motivation. And she has not the mind to place herself in competition with the machine. She can only hope to possess the understanding to mimic him. This stagnant society creates a hellish earth most are born to merely serve. She will never learn, even when she desires to learn near her death. She was given at birth all she’ll ever understand. She will never beat him. And she will never equal him.Is this writing style worth pursuing? Written June 29th, 2001 © on Aug 29 2001 07:50 AM PST   0 • 1