Imagine living without, in a hole, then finding peace and fighting to succeed.
I am a worm.
Tear out my eyes.
Rip out my soul, stomp on my spirit.
I am lower than scum.
There is no life for me and yet I live.
Where is my purpose?
Squirming, crawling, occupying, following consumes all moments of consciousness. I live to eat and be amused by all that is mundane and lacking value.
I am less than a worm.
Sliding along the path of greatest adversity gives me pleasure.
I would never admit this. I cling to it.
It’s a drug, a high to fight and struggle over and over again. Then, I climb out of depravity and failure to barely get by.
I’m aware of the paths that lead to most ideas of success but they do not satisfy me.
Of a small mind and limited view is my simple jellied mind.
Input cascades over me like waterfalls of stinging hail. There is no end to it. Dopamine fills my head with bursts of pleasure in the torrent of flashing quick bits. Nothing satisfies.
