Thu, 19 May 2005

dopesick
Years ago, when I was on drugs and convinced that I had overwritten the neural space where I once stored my basic motor skills with information downloaded to my brain by God about the true nature of time, these six hairless children dug themselves up from the earth and started poking through the skin of my back into my spine with bent pieces of rusted coathangers. That’s how I feel right now. When your nervous system starts screaming about revolution, fifth column, how it’s going to autocannibalize itself rather than take any more shit from the parasite-consciousness. The consciousness is ultimately nothing more than the appendages of my memory-system, and this is where they collision takes place: the memory-system needs time whereas the biologics have no understanding or use of anything beyond the immediate. At least that’s what I tell myself. Went to the market an hour ago and the pre-fetus checkout girl shot me a nasty look when all I bought was vodka and ice cream. I told her my purchases were coded symbols which were subconsciously being assembled in the far back of her underripe brain which, when completed, would blot out her life with an epiphany which will answer every question she had ever asked. She stared blankly at me, and I realized she had never asked any questions. She then made the “this is bogus, man” face and I could see her extention fangs as she said “What-everrrrrrrrr.” Kiss my ass, Dracula.
(12:12.05.19.2005) [/ana] #