Boredom

Why make a post on boredom on a blog that is supposed to be based in madennig friendship and random acts of calousness and self-destruction? Well because of that same old reason: it gets old. We milked the cow for all the little bitch was worth and now we stand here at this razor's edge, wondering if we should dive into the abyss or swing our arms to hold on a fucking few more precious seconds. A Nihilist would probably say "Why the fuck care? We'll end down there anyway", but we know better. Or do we? And so we keep swinging, we stave off boredom, while away our petty lives with even pettier things that matter not in the grand scheme that is all around us, while all the great things swing by us like muses on silver chiming wings, calling out our names onto already deaf ears. But why don't we hear or see them? Well, because great things, like it took me so fucking long to find out, are only great in essence. Their size in wordly terms is naught at all or tiny and insignificant. That's why we trample them out and smile the strech of beast leather that isn't exactly ours but that proves confort enough.

Isn't it time we changed already for the love of (insert prefered divinity here) ?

Either way, be sure to ignore me. My point kind of defeats its own idiot self, as per the usual sum of events, so who cares?

*Nill, sleeper in the Void*