�? the ersatz elevator -- stonehenge

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Date Posted: 18:25:47 10/02/02 Wed
Author: C l a u s t r o p h o b i c
Subject: �? the ersatz elevator

Life is o n l y
A damn e r s a t z elevator
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[c] Life's only a damn ersatz elevator. It's a phony, a mirage. It can stop at anytime, anyhwere, any level it pleases. You have no control over it...just like you have no control over your l i f e. I run, yet I do not know where. I hide, but then lose myself. I think, yet get lost in my imagination. Corruption. I believe that has happened everywhere, in everything, in everyone. Why? I scream to the heavens. Why? I shout at the afterlife. Why? I yell once more to hell. Everything is one big jumble, one big mess. No one cares anymore. No one listens. Why, dammit, why? I am corrupted. I always knew I'd die a lowly old hermit hiding in his forlorn and forgotten cave without a soul that knows he even ever exsisted. Dying, alone and cold in a corrupted world. A corrupted universe.Trembling at his own thoughts - his own rage - he backed up, step after step, closer towards the deep, jagged cliffs of the shore which were shrieking his name. They wanted him. They wanted him dead. Why? He screamed within his mind in pure anguish and hatred at this thing that remained unknown to him. You did it. Confess, you little biotch. Did what? Killed him. It was your fault. Your pure damn fault. What do you want? Why are you tormenting me so? I did nothing, nothing! I didn't kill him, and I never would! No, I will not confess. [c]

[c] Each time that horrific voice echoed throughout his mind - throughout him - he backed closer and closer to the jagged sea rocks, which began to look greatly like the sharp, mighty jaws of a great white awaiting their turn to taste freshly spilled blood. No! This cannot be true! I did nothing! Nothing! Finally, he backed up far enough in his blind rage which clouded his sanity so. Stumbling upon the broken and loose clods of dirt and sod he slipped. Tripped. Stumbled into oblivion, and into the sharks teeth.[c]

[c] Alas, it is only a dream, dear Claustrophobic. A nightmare at that. Cold sweat. Don't you hate it when you wake up to a pitch black world, covered in the vast cloak of darkness. Lost to what you've just lived in your mind. A vivid imagination and false accusations of one's being can reshape your entire mind while you dream. They take you into a world all their own. He had lain down within the soft, lush grass aw he drifted off to sleep, and now he couldn't tell if the uncountable tiny droplets upon his variedly toned hide was sweat or dew. Why? Ignoring the voice within his mind that uttered that word over and over, he laid there. Silent. Shuddering. Alone. Or was he? You can never tell these days. [c]
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------CLAUSTROPHOBIC
tempremental disaster
never said i was perfect

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