Vignetting the Night Away

Nostalgia Treintitres: Sans Emote (10/15/13)

Falling for you was easy once I let go of my cliff’s grasp. And luckily, as I tumble, I’ve managed to hit every rock face on the way down.

There are layers of scenery to chew through. Each one presenting a hyper-reality, shiny as glossy print advance reader copies, this new existence plain presenting the smell of used novelty in an infinity loop.

The world has fangs. We are the bloodless. Latch onto that vein but we present no quenching. This generation evolved in order to protect itself. It’s lke scales on the back of animals with squishy underbellies. These days we’re weakest in our heads. Logic will keep you alive. Logis is dead, dying, undead. If only we could weed out the feelings, leave that place scooped out and hollow, the rest would be intelligence, ambivalence, robust self-fufillment, and no fear. Absolutely no threat from loneliness, not a hint of insecurity, forget attachment, forget desire. Pursued, (persecurted) enlightenment.

***

It hurts a whole lot, but that’s how I know it’s real. 

-Anna R. Kotopple

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