zaftig

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anything awful can also be considered absurd.

when something seems unfair, maddening, horrific,

consider how ridculously irrational it may seem.

see the comedy in tragedy.

but like the sun, don’t look at it for too long,

or your comedy will just as soon burn a

hole in your eyes and all you will have is

tragedy again.

it’s very hard to do this sometimes. it’s very hard to be myself. we all have voices in our heads but it’s when the voices have faces that we know we’re in trouble. a featureless voice is like a tune on the breeze, as dangerous as a breath through the trees, nothing but a small ripple of leaves. but words with a face are far more real. the humaness implies judgement, guilt, it will spit in your face and piss on your grave. like the excited dance of the leaves in the breeze, the voices do come and go. however, unlike the breeze which could come from any and all direction, the faceless voices have names. they have a name for me, they have a name for each other. they hate everyone. knowing where they come from isn’t the worst of it, it’s not knowing where they end that makes me damp with a sweaty chill, the kind you get when you have the flu. there’s not so much difference between a malady of the body or one of the soul. until it comes to treating it. the voices do not respond to the recommended dose of aspirin. flooding my soul with hedonistic consumption and gratification will serve to mute them, if only for a while but they will be back and all the louder upon return.