Personal Entropy

Some say that Armageddon is in the past, others state that it is in the future, but only I know the truth! Only I know the truth, but due to my general lack of credibility no one believes what I have to say anyway. I have no voice. I was never permitted a voice. Never was I permitted, and that’s probably why I talk so much, that’s probably why I like yapping on so much. That’s why I always have to fill up all the available space with my words. Not that anyone ever listens to me now either of course, the more I talk the less people listen; the more you need people to listen the less they will. It’s very a natural reaction – they just switch off.

 

You know when your mind gets corrupted and full to the brim with bad programmes. Garbage programmes. Some people call that society. I call it society. Everyone calls it society! It’s a bad deal all around but everyone loves it! We’ve all got a soft spot for society, we’ve all got a special place in our hearts for it. And yet we despise it too – we despise and loathe it because we see it for what it is. It’s the lowest common remunerator. It’s the curse of Satan, and that’s putting it mildly! I stagger down the street, shaking my head from side to side, trying to rid it of the black stinking poisons that have gained entrance to it. I can hear the gloopy, slurping noise the poisons make as I violently throw my head from side to side. Once the toxins gain entrance they can never be shaken out. I’m a stranger in a strange land but it’s all become just a little bit to familiar at this stage.

 

Do you know that thing called being a human being, I asked myself in hollow tones. That old thing. Oh gosh yes – that old thing. Why would you bring that old chestnut up, I chide myself – why on earth would you bring that up again? My mind is wandering – it’s following well worn paths. A good time was had by all, so we’ll say no more about it, I blurt out hastily, keen to draw a line under the mistakes that have been made and which can never be unmade. You know the mistakes to which I refer. The states that have been made. The misstakes that have been made and can never be unmade. Terrible, terrible mistakes which no one ever wants to talk about…

 

There comes a time when your personal entropy reaches the point at which everything you touch turns bad and there’s no way to climb out of the hole that you’ve created for yourself. No one can help you when you reach that point and no one wants to either. The whole world can turn against you then, and you turn against yourself too, and when that happens there is a particular quality to this moment. A unique quality. I know what that moment feels like. I know it and I am driven to try to tell everyone else, despite the fact that they don’t want to know. You know that feeling, you know that feeling, I want to scream out. I’m leaking entropy all over the place at this stage – I’m standing in a sticky puddle of it.

 

You know that thing of course where your mind gets corrupted and it’s full to the brim with bad programmes, garbage programmes and you’re taking part in society for all you’re worth. You’re joining in just like everybody else. We’ve all got a bit of a soft spot for society of course; we’ve all got a special place in our hearts for it. I’m no different to anyone else in that respect! I’m the same as you are in that respect – exactly the same. There’s that little tiny bit of honesty in all of us of course and that just adds to the unpleasantness. Boy does it ever add to the unpleasantness! That little bit of honesty, which we can never rid entirely ourselves of despite our best efforts, is why our suffering can never be eased…

 

 

 

 

 

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.