Sunday, 23 August 2015

numbered. in the modern age of numb

I am sure my days are numbered in fact I number them myself. I already killed off something in me today, for my left index fingernail is too long but even if it weren't the scar tissue from the recent wound along its side, too tight, pulling the tip of the nail down to the keys so when I type this nail hits the key before the finger the print can strike. I have a situation causing me pain and the pain won't go away.  I am half the age of the modern lifespan and there is someone shouting out there in the early morning night. To all these things am I unaccustomed and therefore wanting to wish away.  Neither wanting nor wishing is made to be... so I light the fuse and watch the perfectionism blow, and shield my screen from all the gore. I know it's Sunday morning but now I have found some peace, after the killing, and even the delta breeze has fallen to its knees and settled down, dear god, thank you for any small favor in this time of ticking technological convenience, in our modern age of numb. I am sure my days are numbered. In fact I still number them myself. And no new system, platform, application, automation, no hard or software, is gonna take that away.  - KatYa

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