More paranoia on the Internet (2005)

You think, I write, imperfect compatibility, we meet and clasp and take a piece of us with us, hold on fast. Margaret Atwood I don’t know you, don't make me think I do. Seduced by her type, she’s just my type, I like her profile, diction and spelling, I like what you write; I like to think I think like you. Drunk on like but afraid of life, imagine my surprise when I saw you with my own eyes, like Vader without his mask, couldn’t scan you with my screen; the world too real to compete with reels, wizard behind curtains reflecting better halves, scaffolding construction and façade, sacred superficie on Sunday promenade, everything is marketing and everything else is bad. Skeletons in my memory cache, trying to quit smoking but addicted to my attention patch. Self-interested philosophy as means to an end, is desire willed to existence what makes light bend? The rules aren’t straight, the planet a sphere, the longest line is a circle and every fact is a veneer. Hey bubba don’t trouble my blessed bubble with your public citizenry or democracy – leave me my fragmented mind, my splintered legions ripe for tyranny, now back to work and curiosity dulled by pomp and verbosity, info-spam-mail from CIALIS, cynical, semi-conscious, half-interested, cancelling engagements, flaccid, yawning, lukewarm.