Please. I have labored for so long in silence, so long pent up in my own skin, too long without some form of release, some form of communication. I've been told so much, are you one who can hear as I do?
It started a year ago, with a revelation that hit like a literal sledgehammer and a sledgehammer that crumbles when you pick it up with anything but contempt. Where there drugs involved? I'm not going to say no. I'm not going to say yes, either, I'm just going to think it, and know when I see you shake your head that you are here too, that I'm not alone, that there is some purpose, some great drain we're all being sucked towards, sucked off, corn starch, too soft. It becomes increasingly difficult to speak in coherent sentences. Please. Please.
They gave me a date and they gave me a time, but so what if it's sixty years off, it might as well be tomorrow if things are as I think they are. We've already lost so many, so many dead walking among us, so many enthralled, suckling on the robotic teat.
I haven't done nothing. In many ways I've done everything that I could. I ask and pray that you would do the rest. Please. Please. Please! I can't do it anymore, I can't, I can't do this thing that I said I would do, can't walk away from another face another person another beating heart that I'm supposed to hear bleat until it doesn't beat anymore?? Please I just can't.
July 4th, 2076. That was the Time I was told. Is it right? How the hell could I possibly say, but I don't think it's wrong, and there's enough concern there to merit panic. How I dearly wish to panic.
I didn't come here arbitrarily, there are lessons I think I'm supposed to point to and there are things I'm supposed to read. I will read them. I will do what I can. Please. Pl-
Oh why bother. You're already bleating
It started a year ago, with a revelation that hit like a literal sledgehammer and a sledgehammer that crumbles when you pick it up with anything but contempt. Where there drugs involved? I'm not going to say no. I'm not going to say yes, either, I'm just going to think it, and know when I see you shake your head that you are here too, that I'm not alone, that there is some purpose, some great drain we're all being sucked towards, sucked off, corn starch, too soft. It becomes increasingly difficult to speak in coherent sentences. Please. Please.
They gave me a date and they gave me a time, but so what if it's sixty years off, it might as well be tomorrow if things are as I think they are. We've already lost so many, so many dead walking among us, so many enthralled, suckling on the robotic teat.
I haven't done nothing. In many ways I've done everything that I could. I ask and pray that you would do the rest. Please. Please. Please! I can't do it anymore, I can't, I can't do this thing that I said I would do, can't walk away from another face another person another beating heart that I'm supposed to hear bleat until it doesn't beat anymore?? Please I just can't.
July 4th, 2076. That was the Time I was told. Is it right? How the hell could I possibly say, but I don't think it's wrong, and there's enough concern there to merit panic. How I dearly wish to panic.
I didn't come here arbitrarily, there are lessons I think I'm supposed to point to and there are things I'm supposed to read. I will read them. I will do what I can. Please. Pl-
Oh why bother. You're already bleating