Fucking shit, I'll call you back
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  • Good ‘ol HateSpiral.

    Posted on December 2nd, 2009 Scritty No comments

    There are points during the night where the mind wanders to strange places.

    Sometimes we desire to create. To carve rock from the sandy pits of riverside caves. To split flint into sharp edges and so divide our realities into things cut and uncut. We build upon what we build, from boneshaped axes to satellites, an inexorable path towards complexity. Spitting in the face on entropy. I want to go to the wilderness. I want to spear fish. I want to build a fire outside the mouth of a cave. Trek across the savannah. Carve a place to be under the stars. But instead I’m writing this on my computer. I just came back inside from the porch, where I’m reading an Erikson novel under the outside light. It’s 12:47am.

    So these are my pithy words. They probably read as very young. Very… trying-to-be-profound. Maybe too many people have wanted to stick this out there before. I never seem to share my really original ideas, probably because I’m afraid that those original concepts aren’t. It’s fucking hard to think of new shit, after all. How many times have philosophical concepts about society been hashed and rehashed? How arrogant to think I’m going to come up with something new about humanity. We don’t change that much, after all. We have the two classes: The Powerful, and The Weak.

    Seen some fun demonstrations of that over in NZ recently. (Yes, I’m going to spew bile about politics. Fuck you, it’s my party and I can whinge if I want to).

    What the Fuck is this? THIS is our PM? White, Rich, in a green leather chair? Good gods, he even LOOKS like a villain.

    What the Fuck is this? THIS is our PM? White, Rich, in a green leather chair? Good gods, he even LOOKS like a villain.

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