Wednesday, February 22, 2006

PERPETUAL ANGER MACHINE

I should have saved my outlandish vitriol for the truly disturbing and soul-crushing, instead of wiling it away this morning on some lady who doesn't really know any better. I should have saved it for this.

My anger is like a grain of sand, hurled through space, quickly freezing, growing in size, full of ice and stone and dark nooks and growing, growing, growing, colliding and combining with other comets, pulled toward an unyielding source, compacting as it races towards a black hole, then quickly imploding in a soundless vaccuum; the inhuman spectacle that is the physical realm flows forever on.

2 comments:

Mathis said...

Yeah, gee, great point.

Ian said...

Something about Rambo.