A Rambling Post Born Of Frustration And Suffocation.

     You are not in the continuum. You ARE the continuum. Don't you understand? You don’t enter reality like a polite guest wiping thy feet upon the mat. Nay, you bleed into it. You drag your trembling little soul across the floorboards of existence and call it “being alive.” Precious! Laughable! A jest fit for the gods!

     You think you're apart from the noise, yet you are the very hum itself. The rattle, the shimmer, the endless, moaning breath of it all! You are the continuum wearing a human mask, begging not to be seen.

     And I may not know anything, but you know NOTHING, and that’s worse, no? At least I know I don’t know. You swagger about with your cheap wisdom, clutching your tidy axioms like talismans against the dark. Meanwhile, I speak with ghosts and deities alike. They answer, too! Between you and I, they make FAR better company.

     Do you have any notion how weary I grow of those who pretend it all makes sense? The taxmen, the careerists, the smooth-faced prophets of reason who sip their burnt coffee and declare, “It is what it is.” What it is, my dear, is ROT. What it has always been is rot. A beautiful, writhing, fragrant rot. And yet they smile through it, as though the stench were holy incense. I cannot play along any longer. The veil has slipped, and beneath it there’s nothing but damp plaster and the hum of the continuum.

     And yet, how I laugh! I laugh until my ribs ache and my teeth rattle like dice in the hands of some careless god. Is it not hilarious, this whole performance? The desperate scramble for meaning, the pretense of control? They clutch their sanity like a silk handkerchief, afraid to soil it, while I’ve long since used mine to wipe the floor. Behold me, O world! For I am free of sense and all the happier for it!

     It’s been a smash, truly. A spectacle! The lights, the clamor, the wild dance of meaning and madness... But alas, I am spent. I shall lie down now, perhaps in body, perhaps in thought. Let the continuum hum on without me. It always has.