Tuesday 7 June 2022

Point of recursion.

Barely anything interesting is left in my mind. I'm a shattered husk. They will not stop. They hammer my brain with sounds. They torture me, inside my dreams and outside. And when I'm not being tortured by them, I'm tortured by the life I could have had if they were not. I am being driven mad. This has been a pointless exercise - perhaps its point is in proving that getting inside someone's mind and burning them from the inside out can reduce a person to a gibbering wreck.

I guess the point is a lot of them act on their understanding. It's not called into question. And what's wrong with that? They're happily living their lives. Finding love. Does it matter whether it's a dream or not? I guess a lot of them would say it's how they feel that makes their reality. And if you make someone feel bad? It doesn't matter if they can't speak. I'm clinging onto my understanding, considering it was rooted in the verifiable.


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