novy

Life to me can be compared to an oriental rug.
Examined for what is is
We see
A big colorful thing with a nice pattern on it
Now
Dichotomize it
We see frays on the ends
and the individual fibers that make up the majority of the rug's suface
Moving further
Each strand is tighly wrapped even smaller strands all bunched together
The frays are some of the same
I keep asking myself where I fit into all this
Am I part of the pattern or part of the color
Or part of the frays
Maybe I'm the tag on the underside
Or maybe I'm the underside's pattern which is reversed from the face up side
I just don't feel like I fit into this rug at all
I feel like I'm just wandering along waiting for something to happen and nothing really does
But then again maybe I'm not even wandering
One strand wouldn't make a rug
It's the unity that provides the beauty for the entire piece
Unity
Is what I seem to be lacking
If I were Fei
Or Chris
Or Chaos
Or Citan
Or maybe even Toejam
I'd have that unity
That purpose to want to do something
But now I can't reach out
I've gone stagnant
Lacking inspiration
I'm sick of beer

I want to say I'm just flowing with the currents because I'm so incredibly lost in this promordial soup.
But I dislike currents
I dislike being in water
and promordial soup is not tomato soup.
I just need to reach out






I hate a lot of stuff right now.
Pardon me but things have been fucked up lately.
and not like sex on an airplane.
This is some stagnant lame shit.