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Wednesday, August 11th, 2004
| Time |
Event |
| 5:45a |
Angels
I hate angels. They're cold, unfeeling, and otherwise soulless. Fucking machines, the whole lot of them. Never evolving, never growing, never seeking to improve themselves or anyone else. They're monsters, and would deserve to be wiped out, if anything so empty and meaningless could deserve anything at all. Predictable to a fault, even the bad ones. They're puppets, only seeming real when they're in motion. The rest of the time, they might as well not exist. They're the pinnacle of falsehood, the soulless fucks. What good is perfection if you've got no means to appreciate it? | | 5:51a |
Thoughts....
Been thinking again...
The fact that one exists is one of the most basic of all concepts. If there is anything that can be taken for granted, that is it. Just the fact that you're wondering means that you're here to wonder, right? Questioning one's own existence has got to be the silliest thing since helmets on skydivers. So why am I questioning it, then? I know it's silly, but I'm not sure of my own existence, or why that uncertainty bothers me. Hell, I'm not even sure if I should bother thinking along this vein. ... but I know damn well that I will, so I guess I might as well do it right, eh?
To be continued, I think ... |
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