I find a deadly temporary comfort in your future presence.
You cement my indulgities.
There be not words that convey what is in my mind.
Perhaps i know words are just change in everlasting change.
Meaningless.
It is , fuck shit.
If anyone could just connect…
Well,
If they did that,
I could no longer feed on this sadistic joy.
The knowledge that this is a temporary scene in my perspective is repulsive.
The fact that me now shall die.
There is nothing. A paradox. No willingness to let this go however.
Or a willingness to believe I am understood.
This tension pleases me.
It increases.
One deep breath,
Killed him.

I function foundationally.
I.
I question based on foundation.
I.
This is me, Predefined,
What you are,
If you have, or has meaning.
If meaning is meaningful,
Or meaning is null
Or meaning is…
[ ]
You must be silence.