Stepping onto the elevator and pressing the appropriate button. Certainty and uncertainty both yank the platform in the same direction - working together despite being the complete opposite.
So all options are reducible to being exactly the same.
This confirmation is soon broken down in it's own pool of sameness. Curvatures are all cut off along the sharp corners of the Automatic. Bendy corridors are now divided into broad finities of straight lines.
A relief in limitations.
Nice connective boxes.
Crossing the bridge over the non endless brings sharp pangs of pointlessness.
In a certain frame of mind the support frame is comforting and the bleak blue a bright blue.
The choice of outlook flickers quick and vague leaving the brain in the middle never reaching a decision on whether to attach itself to this liminal but null experience.
Minds leaking vessels and personalities, hopes, dreams and accomplishments flail about as they drown in their realisations of utter desperate fear. Truth displays everything as continuous lies.
People as repetitive numbers - all can be reduced into the same symbols between 0 and 9.
Veins and vines lead downwards and meet together into a fused heart full of blockages.
Flat pages of paper full of written somethings stretch empty and unachieving- all cut and pasted into a background for pictures - an attempt to be edgy? Or just a way making accumulated notebooks of bad writing useful?
Either way the dribbling produce of words spreads even now as my ageing hands type autonomous drivel. Then colour the words in to make them seem more interesting.
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