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| Ebvardh
Ebvardh
♂️
[14000801]
[2010-06-02 10:16:04 +0000 UTC]
"Over the hill, on a dark sunset."
(Mexico)
# Statistics
Favourites: 512; Deviations: 0; Watchers: 3
Watching: 32; Pageviews: 7214; Comments Made: 1081; Friends: 32
# Interests
Favorite movies: CrimeFavorite books: Russian novelas
Favorite writers: Dovstoyevsky
Favorite games: Group games
Tools of the Trade: Self indulgence
Other Interests: Self destruction
# About me
I move around a lot.
# Comments
Comments: 253
I've realized something very weird.
Something that's self evident.
It's always seemed like my life is a constant reaffirmation that good values are good to follow.
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Maybe I need to fix that to attitudes which are good to follow I end up finding reflected on the constructs I was taught were "good values".
Over-thinking shit is bad, Steppenwolf.
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Thank you. Sorry it took so long to get back to you. I'll be glade to help. How much do you want to know? Just the basics, or everything, from beginning to end?
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I'd like to know enough to elaborate on it independently I'd like to have confidence that when I'm working on my art I can say "I know what I'm doing".
I'd like to know everything you can tell me to achieve this in the most effective way.
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I would guess it's there too. Some of these result in gangrene, you know?
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Fibrodysplasia ossificans progresiva...
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All those other horrible conditions & syndromes...
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The following is what you call "Free Association Writing". As an exercise, it's not supposed to have a message or a point in whatever kind of methodology you choose to associate it with; It's fun, nonetheless.
I won't correct anything that comes out, and I won't reason it later, either. I'll just let my fingers speak now and shut both my brain and heart down for the day. Should be fun...
So, here:
There's this odd worthless effort that I'm trying to put together in my head, but the realization that nothing without constructed methodology has any shock value to it is better for realizing the actual effortlessness of my sensibilities.
Have I some sense of dignity or self respect or have I rat sandwich? It seems there is no point in pondering what I know to be false as a matter of justifying what I shouldn't be justifying in the first place.
I still, somehow, somewhere, get some solace in the elemental sensation that your incompleteness shows more than mine, ego feeding the reality of my well being and raising as cream, my own sadistic and incomplete Sagittarius nature.
I don't care for you.
I care for me.
I don't care for you.
I care for me.
And ultimately, I am bored of the fogged up box of secular sand you pretend me to roam while you decide to unknot the strings between your legs which is not the right place for your head to be, as the screws are not tightened but rather barren by your inequities and your selfish, destructed complicated tendencies towards ouruboros attitudes. I am done. I could breath after being layed the sun upon me. I had a second time to reflect upon realizations and I figured that I knew all along.
I'm happy that I can breathe this air so deeply, even if the contrast of the cold causes my stomach to burn and shatter and die.
I feel happy. Relentless. Opposite.
I wish I could connect. Connect you, connect others, see their souls in the forest of unfocused photographs. You're all just lies, and lies, upon lies and lies.
It's funny, I die but I won't see it.
None of us does. None of us gets to see our dead bodies or the back of out heads. This is why we are fundamentally and irrevocably alone.
Enjoy those experiments. I will, I'll play them as skillfully as I can and I will never look the at books back. I feel empty and unneeded, and that is fine. I need no mask anymore, as trying to take it off I became the mask again.
I am a mask. And a mask has no heart. So stop seeking and stop feeding or you'll die as the shards cut your intestines.
I just want to sleep alone today. Byebye.
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