spock

again - defeat I concede.
Why?
Sometimes, there is beauty in the end of a life;
the finality of giving up
on things
this world
all of the tedium
all of it is secondary
to the internal
the real need
to be free
to not have to
"eat and shit and work"
and just to live
or not
and be free in the choice

constrianed by devices
and this notion of 'time'
this body knows no time
this body knows only that it wants
"and like so many of us, it does not know what"

continually, prepetually.
I give up every day.