# infinite light of love so bored this evening one might crumble to a miniature salt dune but by bored one means desperate that is afraid alone deeply sorrowful to stare out from behind steel eyes at an anonymous gray sea of lined emotionless societal faces one doesn't feel anything except as though on a backwater island planet with planet brained skull deep cortex blues listen to a neil young and schooly d album and feel a bit better real tired though one should've been in bed hours ago friday night review: all stressed up nowhere to go pacing around the dusty corners of the room lab cube angry and frustrated almost like the world out there owes one a life considering it's actively screwed one over so often it kinda does a caged panther who cannot escape the room of intrinsic limitation perhaps none other than the elf a cold blue cube of raw black hyper compressed data so snug smug and discontented in seeming safety of it's own limp miseries an entire world to explore with dirty money in threadbare pockets skuffed steel dockside toecap mentality they scour under their non local bell end forever waiting for that basket phone to ring where the virtual horizon of invisibility cuts right through the neon geography of modem hyperkulture researchers who pass through it on their way to / from nowhere too often cannot put their experiences into familiar words and images languages they inherited are wholly inadequate to express the burning alien strangeness of the profound new worlds they now inhabit they therefore must express themselves in maze like metaphors and reality imploding paradoxes spiraling contradictions and deff defying abstractions rather than in things which mean things in a traditional sense they must not only think but live life in bold assertions only apparently coherent but which also express a deeper love of super liquid biochaos theirs a polyversal collage using fragments of the new to recreate enigmatic mythical symbols of the impossibly archaic and profoundly otherworldly picture of a hovering dolphin on the desk blowing a bubble ring in endless oceanic blue to watch as this sublime air spiral / dimensional teleportal float silently toward a shimmering super surface one adore this image a strong constant reminder there are forces at work in / as this living sentient liquid neon polyverse far more vital and pregnant with truer meaning than that which conspires this evening to keep one in the state of soul crushing existential depression still no friends no allies despite the years nobody who can agree or disagree with or one fuel one's illusions prevent one from often feeling somehow they died at birth but wasn't told that this bland tin tasting half arts life has so far only been the semi tragic ongoing afterbirth the continued ongoing adjournment of a desperate meeting of the gray suited middle men of existential management the dire business of willing patient undeath on the installment plan after four years that post apocalyptic radial first person zombie survival error modification for a classic obsolete computer playspace stored on a slow green rotating data cube is still not out yet dangit so tired of waiting begin to think the mod was already released right from the outset the entire non updated information space set up online to discuss and host the mod as itself the only truer modification that is the whole mod as one big tiny theatrical process waiting several years for a post apocalyptic first person zombie survival error modification that's still not out yet for a classic obsolete computer playspace well gee looks like another rewatch the directors cut of classic 80's psychological thriller mighty pink mann as hunter again one doesn't want to but researcher right now especially with no quality chocolate biscuits in the entire house not a home one must purchase some any blurred fuzzy neural rush or else fade away into the restless sleep of troubled suburban absurdist dreaming rather than fade to black march downstairs and brew a streaming pot of neo mayan strong filter coffee for this is what mundane madness and banal island based insanity look like a lonely overweight researcher with bad skin and no future sitting in front of a holographic blue computer text input display unit cube typing rationally about the sheer scale of the operation / project they're intimately mixed up with on a sub quantum dimensional aether level try to gauge the smarmy look of researchers going in next door by the expensive sheen of their clothes the professional cut of their hair the shrill sound of their easy biosynth laughter one can't decide if they're arriving for the party of decade on the most important mission of their throwaway confetti lives andor if they're only an endlessly chipper bunch of middling class consumer perma deaders who've brought easily snortable party favors with them to the bloated meat dongle who lives next door who allegedly has many friends all of which know and respect them deeply with their tongues their thin even reptile smiles and endlessly chipper lobotomized good cheer they all bring it down to level of television yeah a bad tragicomedy sitcom one mother one doesn't handshake anymore cos one never agreed with the automatic as said deal going down heck they must of forged one's signature on the social contract and all one's empty theater stage lines are tapped out like it was all ever any other way except for screwed up and aggressively bland beyond all possible recognition // [[republic of bob contents | imaginary pastime republic of bob]]