I planned this post meticulously and for a perversely long time, making it as elaborate in the process as it could get and by the time I got to write it, I realized I have already said what I wanted to say and even that very brilliant moment on the event horizon was years ago. And really, it’s been a shady long time since anyone tried to kill me and now when we get to that point again, that’s me who has the knife. Fucking riddance.
Have you ever realized that the secret of meditation is untold? The Shakyamuni was wise to inspire laymen to meditation and he was wiser still not to leave any trace of the meditation how-to. Meditation was his untraceable divine icebreaker and he hacked the brains of thousands of millions of people, spreading culture memes based on folly and powerlust and ninety kilogramms of beef with the painfully real facial adaptation of Dalí? I surely had a bad time, being a kid and all.
Whoever reads this post – I have a message for you.
My keyboard is missing the MAXX GO button and I have last seen it while flying over the Atlantic (I have a very expensive sports car but no ignition key), I’m playing a one-man russian roulette with whatever came out of test tubes and in the past days it’s been The Birthday Massacre’s Shiver and their remix of Never Wanted to Dance for Mindless Self-Indulgence.
I also have a question. Bet you have one now.