Disgusted at the overrun slop houses and the hideous sceneries in which I found myself, I cursed under my breath and denounced this wretched piece of land I am trapped in. I was resigned to enduring a stretch of insipid sights until I reached my office, when the Divine intervened.
At a traffic light I beheld a most glorious sight. A fair-skinned lady in office attire, of good height and of voluptuous form, stood in stark contrast to the vastly inferior specimens around her. Her ample bosom, big as watermelons and no doubt as juicy, arrested my attention, and riveted my feet to the spot in their majestic tyranny. Her dolled-up face, while not compelling in the classical sense, wore a knowing look that was surely born of experience, Her eyes betrayed an innate lustfulness, of her need to ravish and be ravished. Her proud posture accentuated her tantalizing curves, and when the light turned green, it took all my immense willpower to free myself from her spell, and to stride forward as she did, not to drool as, with each step she took, her firm bosom seemed in danger of ripping asunder her overstretched bodice. If all women were like this, there would be no frustration. Calamities shall cease, and peace shall reign supreme.
It goes to show that sometimes you just have to rail and rant to get what you want. Maybe there is really a god and if you can grab Its attention you can get It to grant your wishes. Well, I am going to give this divine derelict many earfuls until It gives me a winning set of seven numbers. It is not having peace anytime soon. It could also buy itself a few nights of peace by allowing me to enjoy the strumpet. Surely, her affection is worth its weight in gold.
* * * * * *
I am writing this in an uncomfortable state. I am cold, sleepy, depressed, and cannot wait to get the Hells out, go back home and sleep. My intestines are churning from the three cups of coffee and one can of Coke I took to keep myself conscious. My stomach does not digest caffeine very well and I figure that if I keep this up I may die of caffeine poisoning one day. My eyes are blurry from staring at the screen all day and I hate the glare from the merciless sun that beats relentlessly down on this shithole. A few white strands down the middle of my unruly mop disrupt its black entirety. This is obviously a sign of stress, for I have been overtaxing both halves of my brain. When you are unfortunate enough to exist in this shithole, you age faster; your eyes are dull and soulless and your posture is bent from oppression and no shard of meaning can be glimpsed from your vapid existence.
A profound moral emptiness envelops my psyche; to say I feel Enkish will not be far from the truth. The Marquis de Sade wrote his incomparable 120 Days of Sodom on a long roll of toilet paper during his imprisonment. Days after days of tortuous monotony can drive the stricken mind to abyssal depths of despair or inspire it to elysian flights of ineffable inspiration. The mind, disposed of its idle fantasies of moralities and hypocritical onanism, lapses into emptiness, and it is out of this emptiness that one perceive the true reality behind its flimsy fabric, and behold it for its nakedness. It is precisely this moral emptiness that have inspired both ‘monsters’ and ‘saints’, from Vlad Tepes Dracula to Siddhartha Gautama, to allow them to transcend their frangible mortalities and to ascend to godhood, to immortality.
(The fourth cup of coffee now, with Milo powder added.) – 5.25pm
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