We are all complicit in the abhorrent filth of the Abuser Mind, aren’t we? As we were done to so shall we do, isn’t that the way? Passing it on, passing it on. That’s what’s so much of life comes down to when we really look into it – passing on the hurt, passing on the humiliation. Making sure that someone else’s feeling what we are feeling, making very sure. Passing it on with what we might call ‘surgical accuracy’. We might as well call it that, we might as well. Might as well, might as well. Passing on all that corrosive judgementalism; making sure that someone else feels the brunt of it, just as we did, just as we did. We all know how that hurts, how deep that cuts, and so we have to pass it on faithfully don’t we? Pass the parcel. Pass the buck. Here you go buddy – see what you can do with this. See how you get on with it.
We all get fed up being sad miserable bastards don’t we? I know I do, I know I do! Life wasn’t meant to be like this. What a terrible old travesty this is, what a terrible old travesty. A time-honoured travesty to be sure, but a travesty nonetheless. An ancient travesty, a travesty that has been with us right from the very beginning, but a travesty for all that. It’s not about the blame though, it’s not about the blame. It’s so easy to make it about the blame though isn’t it? All too easy, all too easy. Any fuckwit can do that as we all know very well. It doesn’t take a genius to allocate blame, any dumb craphead can do that, as I need hardly point out. But it’s not right to blame the blamers either and I realise that as well. Any dumb idiot can blame the blamer and I know that is well as anyone does. I’m not going down that road, I can tell you. We all know where that road leads, after all…
The abhorrent nauseating filth of the Abuser Mind – I shudder to the core when I think about it. I am frankly appalled, I am appalled in every part of me. There is no worse abomination, no worse abomination than the abhorrent filth of the Abuser Mind. I’m frankly appalled but that doesn’t mean that I’m not going to turn a blind eye to it if necessary, of course. We all need to do that. It’s very important to do that of course – very, very important. So very important. We all know that, we all know that. No one needs to tell us that.
Another day has dawned for us – the poor remnants of humanity – here in the Survival Dome and outside the rusty perimeter fence the birds are singing. Heralding the approach of a new day, heralding the approach of a new day. Nothing matters in the Survival Dome except surviving and so that’s what we all keep on doing. Surviving in order to survive another day. Surviving in order to keep on talking the same old bullshit that we always talk. It has to be done of course and we all understand that. We all understand that so well. I suppose it’s true that none of us understand why we have to survive in order to talk the same old bullshit another day but we feel the compulsion of it all the same. It’s a visceral thing none of us actually need to explain it. It’s not an intellectual matter – is much more basic and that; when we wake up in the morning – groggy and uneasy – we implicitly understand that the important thing is for us to get into gear and ready ourselves for another day of talking the same old budget that we always talk. We don’t have to discuss it amongst ourselves; we just know that it has to be done. Has to be done. It’s important, in other words.
Outside the cracked and grimy windows of the Survival Dome another desperate and demented day has dawned. A bloated and distorted sun is painfully pulling itself up above the horizon – it has been doing this for the last two hours without ever seeming to get any higher in the sky. It’s like a vast crimson poached egg – boundary-less and slovenly. The crows scream coarse abuse from the barren fields that surround us, as they always do. They always sound as if they’re complaining about something – complaining about the perversity of nature herself perhaps. Complaining about the breaking of all natural laws. In the shadows around the dead trees on the hilltop the rat -like creatures are massing, waiting for their chance. Waiting, waiting – always waiting. They are highly intelligent of course; they’re considerably more intelligent than us human beings. That goes without saying really. All we have ever been good at lying and cheating and stealing from each other. All we have ever done is worship the filthy Abuser Mind and look where that’s got us! All we’ve ever done is to swindle and exploit each other and betray our own brothers and sisters. The rat creatures live by a cleaner code of course – they don’t share our corruption and so they will not share our fate. Our fate is a grim one indeed – but who could ever say that we do not deserve it?