Saturday, January 19, 2008
there can only be two possible outcomes of a ks practice.
the extreme ends of the 'mood' scale.
i am a robot, a used, filthy robot, non-
existent in your eyes, manipulated by your every action, living in delusion, living in make-believe euphoria.
i try to not think of my master, i try to keep the irksome black gadget away, i try to press the 'brainwash' button 8622 times in a millisecond.
but my master he needs nothing more than a glib tongue to lure a gullible me, merely a jumble of useless scrap metal.
then one-two-three he skips down the alley he picks up one-two-three, my companions i realise, but don't we look the same?
i have no brains, literally, but i am smart enough to understand that i am after all, just a robot, devoid of beauty, devoid of independence, devoid of charisma.