There's not enough time for technique.
Not enough time for elaborate manoeuvres.
This is a world of speed and quantity is all there is.
A rather pitiful society. And pity, is just the way it loves
-pity for the short, pity for the weak, pity for those with not-so-bulky cv.
But that's the way it is. So enough with precision. Perfectionism won't help.
Just do things.
Welcome to a culture of numbers.
That voice in the head again.
Yes, I am a number.
I'm an ounce. Fleshy product born between shit and piss.
Isn't it amazing, what some well-rehearsed news bulletins can do?
Create herds of sheep that work and toil for the details,
which don't matter.
My sheep opinion is an opinion of shit.
My master in poetry and meditation never made any sense.
Life in loneliness is my deepest virtue.
Attached to a particular set of people, indifferent to anyone else that is not of my interest.
I will never die, mainly cause I've never really existed.
You are now saluted.
A promotion party will be held tonight.
A variety of indian slaves will be there to assist.
And you are invited.