cry out to the stars and ask why we are punished with the existential threat of thought!!!! why must i do more???? what good does it do me? can i not be like the other animals? i just want to eat, sleep, and die! i have no reason to think, no reason to reproduce! the only thing i can ever be sure of is death! this universe is a carnival, in which i am i tightrope walker in the circus of the galaxy, my tightrope being life and my netting being death. sometimes i want to fall through that netting into a state of never having existed, to become one with the dirt in the circus rings. my body ground up by clowns, lions, elephants, and the eventual closing of this carnival.














