A Letter

[Cuddlefish]

Dear PD,

My brain has gone malignant, and has turned on me.
In fits of unregimented and wild growth, it has destroyed itself.
In its mindless amoebae-like spasms, it has devoured my heart, my non-physical self, my sense of communion, and continues to do the same to itself.
I have nothing left, save my most basic primitive emotions, but even here, no longer do I have a vessel in which to collect and carry them. Rage, loathing, confusion, and fear, unfocused, destructive.
I find brief moments of peace, but they are now found more in somber reflection of my own fallibility, and are fleeting, thus bitter-sweet at best. Repulsed (at times, as I may be) by my own ignorance, my inner speech resembles a freakish fun-house mirror image of the most scathing critiques of any outlandish no0bs caught in mid backpedal or informal fallacy.

I have been paralyzed by what I sought to be free.

I am no human being.



This is nothing but an admission of failed bi-pedalism. Any perceived melodrama or sentiment is likely just a product of my chosen language, and can be disregarded.

Thank you for your time and understanding.
~d~

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

NOt sure if srs

[Freeky]

Well, Dimo, either I have to congratulate you on figuring out you're wrong sometimes, which is half the battle when it comes to bi-pedalism, or I'm going to say that if you're having a hard time dealing with something, even if rationally speaking it shouldn't be that big a deal, talking about it helps, and I am your servant-y type ear guy.  So to speak.

[ñͤͣ̄ͦ̌̑͗͊͛͂͗ ̸̨̨̣̺̼̣̜͙͈͕̮̊̈́̈͂͛̽͊ͭ̓͆ͅé ̰̓̓́ͯ́́͞]

What's up Dimo?