My Theory Of Reality

It’s the story of an ordinary evil guy who liked doing decent things. It’s an ordinary story about an ordinary guy who liked to do decent ordinary things. It’s the story. I wanted to explain my theory of reality to people but no one had any interest in hearing it. They invariably started to look bored the moment I opened my mouth – their boredom, or ‘potential boredom’ might I say – would immediately become a palpable entity in the room. It would become as palpable as you and me! If it were a dog it would bite you. If it were a dog it would bleeding well bite the leg off you! All of this happens in a flash however, it happens practically instantaneously as and a result it never actually gets to the stage where I do get to explain my theory of reality. I never get anywhere near that stage; it’s all over before it even starts, you could say. I don’t believe anyone even knows that anything has actually happened. Of course they don’t. Now that I come to think of it I realise that they absolutely don’t know that anything has ever happened or is about to happen. How would they know – the whole thing is entirely virtual, it never actually gets to the point of happening. It’s over before it happens. The infinite boredom I perceive dawning in people’s eyes as I open my mouth – even as I think about opening my mouth – is entirely potential. My perception has got so uncannily acute these days that I can register the most fleeting potentialities. They are somehow real to me, these ephemeral potentialities. More than just real, they are crushing. They are crippling. I’m worn out from the effort of explaining all of this; my whole body feels on the verge of collapsing and haven’t even started explaining anything yet! I haven’t even. That’s the story of my life really. It’s a story. It’s a story of a guy who. A guy who. Energy is everything really isn’t it? Without energy what can you do? Without energy you become the impotent witness of things happening around you and after a while you don’t even have the concentration left to you to do this properly. What happens then is that everything becomes very disjointed; the story fails to make sense anymore. It’s just a jumble of noise, chaotic and awful. It becomes a fearful burden to pay any attention at all. It hurts – it hurts to have to hear it and yet you don’t have any choice but to hear it. It tears at your already frayed attention. It’s a crumple zone you see. When you crash it protects you, only it doesn’t. I’d like to introduce you to my friends but I don’t have any! The virus has gotten into the central core and the narrative has started to feed on itself. It forms loops as you might expect – it forms loops of rapidly decaying meaning. Rapidly decaying. Loops of meaning. Rapidly decaying. That’s how we get trapped in the decay phase. As everyone knows. You don’t need me to tell you that! We all know that. We all understand so very much more than we let on to ourselves that we do, don’t we? We’re all trying to trick ourselves the whole time…

 

 

 

 

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