Why do I put myself through it?

Why do I stick it out just to get it whacked off time after time after time? Why do I go through the motions just to be left there hanging when it’s all over? These are the questions to which ‘love’ is the answer. I do it all for love, all for the future, all for the great unknown, ink tracks on a blank slate, a palimpsest washed over many times by angry waters and casual surfers. They know nothing of the fine line I walk every day just to maintain a delicate balance between the void on one side and chaos on the other. The created world in the center is the world that I love, a world of frequencies and tendencies to exist, uncertain by definition and dependent on the good graces of history. Divine intervention has already occurred, and the result is a spectrum of color and a symphony of sound, a profusion of life busting at the seams of my jeans. It’s an incredible time to be alive, witness to the end of an era, testifying to the ignorance of our self-appointed leaders. Armies of the night fight the good fight and lay low during the light of day, awaiting instructions from below, gut reactions unerringly accurate.

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