for themselves. funny ones that don’t make sense. there is fire, water, and earth. and what is another? is it air? maybe. we need another one to complete ourselves. who would be a good candidate?
but no one. no one cares. he probably spoke of her, passingly, as if she didn’t matter. but passingly can mean something. a fleeting thought. but a probability nevertheless. everything suspends.
suspense. or is it agony? neither. anticipation? maybe. if we crawl around each other, will we finally converge in the end? is there such an ending? would you like it to be so?
probably he hast lost his vigor for writing, or his prime mover never moves anymore, everything is hidden. perhaps he is hiding. or busying himself with boring people again. tell me, do you find your company pleasant at the moment?
no? let me tell you about my mother. everyone from her past life, before she got married, was erased. perhaps it was time, or the lack of means for communication, but she did not busied herself to reconnect, as the word goes, and everything way back simply does not exist.
but this is about you. or about no one for that matter. no one floats infinitely.
i could picture this, the scene keeps building and improvised every waking hour. a prelude to something novel. a novel, perhaps? no, not that. just an inner world, if you please. perhaps in another two years.
i thought of a joke yesterday. if someone asked me what did i read during my uh, budding high school years, i’d say, nietzsche or some other dude with wild eyes, and if they asked me whether i was an existentialist, i’d say, i am an ex existentialist.so does that mean i’m non existent?
funny? no?
i knew you liked 9gags jokes better.
perkaraperkara 