Together we are a symphony
That repels order and time
We’re nothing special
Merely mortal homo sapiens
Delirious through having conscience
And all the reasons we cannot sleep
And isn’t it this train of thought that is the problem?
There is an element of truth to it, for sure. But I see all these people competing who suffered the most, and I wonder if this idea of being heroic and suffering to create character is part of the problem? Not that I have a solution, just that it’s a problem I’ve recognised in the human condition. I get the sense some humans feel they haven’t suffered enough, though it seems counterintuitive to want more suffering it seems like people are jealous of people who have gained ‘character’ from suffering.
If I can be oppressed (or claim to be oppressed), then I have something to fight (or something to claim to be fighting).
The paradox in all this? There is suffering in the conquest for more ‘worthy’ suffering…..
Hello, firstly I’d like to compliment your annual publication received by us tenants. It has the kind of smell I enjoy from reading material. May I ask what paper & ink combination you use for such a scent?
I am fully aware not many people will admit to being page sniffing connoisseurs, and so this question may seem strange, but I figured we all gotta live sometimes, right? Some of my friends go skydiving and boring things like that. I suppose if we could combine sniffing books and other reading material with skydiving maybe I’d give it a go. But I presume when falling from such a height and your face is flapping in the wind that the laws of physics would have it so you couldn’t smell much anyway.
As for the building and the flat I live in I have no major complaints. I guess one issue would be a preference for more soundproofing so that the neighbours can’t hear me maniacally laughing and crying simultaneously. All my neighbours roll their eyes at such occurrences in the knowledge I’ve seen myself in the mirror again, I know they roll their eyes because I keep catching them as they roll under my door. I have since put a draft excluder at my door to prevent them getting under, it seems to do the trick. It’s ironic though as if there were a war I still wouldn’t need a draft excluder because I’d be excluded from the draft because of my mental instability anyway.
P.S Please get back to me about the ink & paper combination.
Hello, I was just wondering if it’s possible to change from printed subscription to digital subscriptions only? Also are your magazines recyclable? I ask because I wish to recycle old issues as I’m conscious of space. Though they might make some money on a 4D antique show when I’m long, long dead after a long lost celebrity ‘cousin’ happens to end up on ‘who do you think you are?’ and looks into my sad little life and finds my magazines, I don’t really care for making fortunes or for hoarding for the time being either. I duly hope that they are recyclable (This is a lie my hope for it being recycliable is not to appropiate levels at all, it’s bordering insane. Insane needs to sort it’s borders out so that us sane folk can’t get in) after all, your publication is about the natural world, and I like to think you care enough to make those glossy pages of birds with their bright breasts as environmentally friendly as possible.
Yours faithfully (Thats a lie, I don’t do faith. I’m an extremely paranoid person. Please don’t blacklist me)
GTOL (Gorilla thinks out loud)
There is no one more egotistical than those who claim to be killing their ego’s.
There is something intelligent about an animal that only considers it’s next meal and contemplates when and where it might next sleep. The irony is that that intelligence wouldn’t be recognised as such if it wasn’t for a species such as us to be stupid enough to consider all of this in the first place.
I am the ghost in between these walls
I write and write
I writhe and writhe
I cry and cry
I scream, I scream
I shout, I shout
I have an entire ocean of
I feel so much
The earth could crack under the weight of my feet
From the pendulum that is my heart
Swinging to defeat
I’m the invisible man
Everyone has another