One Time out of Ten...Things just go perfect for us all...

Everyone seems to have their support networks...the relationships that pull them through the misery of their random dross called Self. Perhaps this helps the masses stay the same (!) without the existential pain of Being…

I was (un) – lucky enough to have missed out on this boon.

In a “final” analysis…there stands only you at the crossroads at midnight, no one comes to your aid or cares. The only hope I have now when breathing on the grey ashes (damn, will the moisture in my breath put out the last?) is that my mad monkey guru has enough hate to kill the remnants of this shell.

How else can we evolve unless the old forms die away?

Still, it is a bitter loneliness…this poison of Self that one has to live with. Worse than chewing on a sprig of Wormwood.

Nine time out of ten…our hearts just get dissolved…