Friday, March 2, 2012

Excerpts from the Memory Bank - Scripts

Our lives are not scripted, but we live it that way, structured, formatted and diplomatic. I make a parody of it by keeping to the same lines, answering them questions with the same lines, I repeat myself, I repeat myself to the death. Everything, funny things, romantic things, soon you’ll come to find, that I’m actually a very boring individual, like a firework that goes bursting into the night, for 40 whole hours, over and over again. It then becomes a loud, irritable stain in the sky. The rebellion could only move me so far, within my own capabilities, I am at most, a scab.

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