The whole blog reeks of negativity, of nihilism, as I rail against the unfairness, the shortfalls that punctuate my life, and yet, it is far from the dismal end. It is merely a phase, and all my pieces masturbatory pieces of art. The stench of my effusions mask both the truths and the lies, and I began to find a signpost in the desert of life.
I should be working for a cause now. I have been wandering too long, drawn away by the mirages of salesmen and preachers of lust.
It is all in the works of fate.
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