se7enchance

No Gamesmanship


Hemorrhaging sanity the day before tomorrow. Watching people who watch other people who watch for signs of volatile smiles. Like an Escher painting, splashed in nonsense arrows on a filthy canvas of playgrounds. Black Monday shouts all in unison, all the way down, from the four amygdal corners. A few hours of imaginary table talk at the cost of a lifetime of labor. The resilience of comradie cheapened by late-night whisky and the synthesis of community. Defer to a higher authority-- to the god of your god, the one dressed in the immaculate tie and vest-- for absolution. The Matrix preserves itself.

3:54 p.m. - 2021-02-04

prev
next

Recent entries:
Pristine Pockets - 2021-02-25
Jest and Beckonings - 2021-02-18
Maybe Keep a Notebook - 2021-02-18
Under-fused - 2021-02-11
Underaged Culture - 2021-02-04


My profile
Archives
Notes
Diaryland
Random
RSS


others:
Swordfern
Bridgecity
Life-My-Way
raven72d
Blubbles
Babyhead
Murder
Frostopia
Secret-motel
HumHum
ATwoWayDream