It's bright and cheery outside but I feel as if I've been crawling through some slimy alleyway on a moonless night, pawed and sullied the entire way. I miss not being able to see where a conversation is headed within seconds. I can't stand the fact that so few people want to talk to me as a human rather than point their motives at me with all the subtlety and flair of being smacked with a cold, dead fish. I miss conversation. No one has anything to say to anyone any more. And manipulation bores me. Most people don't do it well either.

It's all 'look at me' reality television meets MySpace internet celebritism instead. People are living as if there is always a camera rolling and no consequence for asshattery in action. What's the point to all of that? What will you do once you have everyone's attention? I'd be willing to bet anticlimax would follow.

There is no mystery left and it's the thing I secretly revere the most. How ironic that I deconstructed it just to rebel against Emperors of Infinite Space inside little walnut shell universes ruling over the too easily led about masses drug in tow by rusty, infected rings through the noses.

I'm shaking the universe out of all definition like an etch-a-sketch creation.

Be gone.

And take your motives with you.