My latest SD post
I’m the knight of infinite resignation. The puppet on a string that never grasped the abstract like Abraham, the champion of faith did. I came close and perhaps almost touched faith, but vultures of guilt swooped down and plucked my flesh, leaving me screaming in pain and angst. Now, a walking cadaver, one of the undead, I’m lost to apathy with an occasional paroxysm of acute melancholia gripping me. Waves and waves of ditch-water green sorrow crash against the surface of my calloused heart, softening it for a moment, before receding, leaving me mute again like a forgotten chipped-off bar stool in the corner of a discotheque.
I’m a fatalist, the puppet soft and humanoid, but not free. I dance to the whims of a vengeful sovereign when a fantasia of dour, dolorous and despondent notes play. My dance is awkward, clumsy and slow like a virgin attempting to make…
View original post 328 more words