a device for the soul

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Inner Monologue #1

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“Boy, you said it.”

I feel so uninspired. Bleached out, empty, diffuse.

“Nice, Mr. Thesaurus. Almost sounds poetic.”

Like I really need to be sarcastic at myself.

“Well, you invited me here. Take some responsibility.”

I’m not sure I should hate you being right. I am just stuck in that same ol’ quagmire mess of uncertainty, disillusionment, and defeatism.

“Still a poet, eh?”

It makes the mundania a little more bearable when you dress it up a little.

“Like putting lipstick on a pig?”

Let’s not start a scandal, shall we? (nudge, nudge)

“At least you have your sassy wit to save you from mental collapse.”

There is that, yes. I wonder if I’ll ever find something clever and insightful enough to get people to read it, besides me.

“Hope is that great spiritual sleight of hand which allows you to function like a good little organism, while a cold, unfeeling mechanical universe goes about its business in complete disregard for your well-being. Take comfort in the fact that the unvierse isn’t out to get you, though. It should help you sleep better at night, right?”

You are fecund with ways in uplifting my state of mind.

“You know you will not be able to get away with sarcasm with me, right?”

Of course, but you also know it’s a necessary knee-jerk reaction or else reality gets to win again.


So, what’s the point?

“Well, by way of reverse logic, you could do whatever you want, since it really doesn’t matter. Wouldn’t you rather be ‘damned if you do’ than not? Nothing to lose. And I’ll be right here to make sure any accidental success doesn’t go to your head.”

Thanks, buddy.

“No problem.”


Written by 2ndhandsoul

September 12, 2008 at 9:41 pm

Posted in formless, insanity, rant

One Response

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  1. I enjoy the prospect of being able to do my own quaint little serialed series of bits.


    September 12, 2008 at 9:42 pm

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