The machine is as perfidious as the humans who created it.
It lures you in. It is reliable and very helpful.
It sucks you in to become dependent upon it.
You invest in it. You connect with it,
personalizing and perfecting.
And then it terminally fails.
(To be continued…)
©SvetkaSamizdat
…
I don’t want to hear anymore what the voices, that get to speak, have to say, or predict.
Full of shit, hubris, an agenda, they’re usually wrong and always misleading.
Today, I only care about what is and has been reality, painful and keenly felt.
Tomorrow, who can tell?
(To be continued…)
©SvetkaSamizdat
…
“You have an anger problem,” she said, with a tinge of concern.
That old trope, the man-child thought to himself, feeling his anger levels rising. After all, few things made him angrier than being told he had an anger problem.
“Doesn’t everyone,” he growled, “One way or another?”
(Victim and/or perpetrator, both…)
(To be continued…)
©SvetkaSamizdat
…
It starts with a myriad of thoughts,
brain-flooding, torrent of negativity.
Then, all-consuming agony,
radiating from my head
to my everything.
I drift in & out of consciousness,
transitioning into a throbbing nothingness,
where pain overwhelms, totally,
making thought beyond the agony’s essence
impossible.
… This is existence?
(To be continued…)
©SvetkaSamizdat
…
Are we there yet?
The beginning of the end?
And other clichés.
… Utterly screwed,
totally confused,
you, me, and the chimpanzee.
As leaders invoke, abuse,
wartime memories:
sacrifice, heroism, bravery,
and lambs to slaughter.
… This legacy they died for?
(To be continued…)
©SvetkaSamizdat
…
In a happy place,
until, waking, reminded:
reality bites.
(To be continued…)
©SvetkaSamizdat
…
Immensity hits,
(existential fucking shit!)
eviscerates soul.
(To be continued…)
©SvetkaSamizdat
…
This life, like a diabolical futility treadmill,
going nowhere but round and round,
always more shit to keep us “grounded”,
“knowing our place”,
stuck in quicksand.
(To be continued…)
©SvetkaSamizdat
…
Lies, damned lies, baloney and innuendo…
Regardless, shit sticks, as they say in the classics,
or is it just me, spinning my wheels.
… O’ futility!
(Is this my lot?)
(To be continued…)
©SvetkaSamizdat
…
I’m tired of the story, the constant indulgence, the character development, the self-righteous soul-baring, the family and friends, the prissy do-gooding, the cooking and lifestyle tips. They seem to think I give a shit (occasionally, I suppose I do). They seem to think that I will stay tuned for inordinate episodes in coming weeks, months and years, to learn how America’s sweetheart gets on in life. But, really, I’ve had my fill. Today, I unplug, unsubscribe, say sayonara, goodbye. … Go back to reading Oblomov.
(To be continued…)
©SvetkaSamizdat
…
