dp

I'm just standing in front of a blank page,waiting for it to fill itself with thoughts on its own,just like a judge waiting for the jurry's decision that sais he can now think on his own.damn incoherence!...It's like I'm waiting for those responsible of the unsolvable crime to put the hang around their neck by their own will,waiting for the medicine to just jump down my throat,driven by a supernatural force within its chalky center...But no reaction can exist without action,at least that's the small amount of physics knowledge I posess,and yet I find myself incapable of moving the square wheels that bring reason to my thoughts in the direction I want them to move,in fact,I can't seem to make them move at all.I'm stuck just like toffee to the decayed teeth I consider to be reality.I despise the simple dust,lacking fears and hopes,drowning in blissful contemptness,as well as I damn the all knowing gods that feed on the mice's,small,yet impossible dreams,for they crush under their marble feet the skulls of their unknown victims,martirs without names...
The only advantage I can find deeply hidden within hatred is the power it gives your imagination over the object of your hatred,the relieving power of imaginary destruction.Therefor I would most likely enjoy hating you,yet I find this hard to accomplish,for you are no object,but the mere result of my imagination as well.Or just another piece of toffee being chewed by reality