We tell ourselves all manner of lies in order to get through the day. Today is Friday, the last day of the humdrum routine of earning paper for the elites who actually work for the banks who work for Zion which prays to Satan. But it's not really the end of this routine since it all begins anew on Monday meaning the routine is really about this 5/7 split where I get to spend more of my life feeding the vampire squid than fighting it.
I am late to my fate again on this date. But in reality I shall arrive exactly when I am meant to. I'll claim to have overslept when in reality I haven't slept enough in weeks owing to the 5/7 split that devotes too much of my time to feeding those who are already overstuffed while the remainder goes to those who truly have need. Thus a deficit is incurred where I claim I'll pay myself back tomorrow, even though I won't (because who has the time?). It's easy to say I'll make time for that tomorrow, but, does anybody know how to "make" time? More lies to ourselves, to cover the gaps in previous lies.
So we say: I'd love to make a copy of me to divide this overflow with. But that's not true either, because if I were confronted with a copy of me, my gut reaction would be to kill me without hesitation (preferably with fire). But maybe that's also a lie, with so many juggled lies, it becomes difficult to know when we've stopped lying to ourselves, doesn't it?
I am late to my fate again on this date. But in reality I shall arrive exactly when I am meant to. I'll claim to have overslept when in reality I haven't slept enough in weeks owing to the 5/7 split that devotes too much of my time to feeding those who are already overstuffed while the remainder goes to those who truly have need. Thus a deficit is incurred where I claim I'll pay myself back tomorrow, even though I won't (because who has the time?). It's easy to say I'll make time for that tomorrow, but, does anybody know how to "make" time? More lies to ourselves, to cover the gaps in previous lies.
So we say: I'd love to make a copy of me to divide this overflow with. But that's not true either, because if I were confronted with a copy of me, my gut reaction would be to kill me without hesitation (preferably with fire). But maybe that's also a lie, with so many juggled lies, it becomes difficult to know when we've stopped lying to ourselves, doesn't it?