What Is So Delicious About How Things Are

The problem with the world is definition. The problem with most people is the urge to define what is wrong and what is right to make things manageable. The problem with positive people is that they think that being negative is wrong. The problem with negative people is that they think that being positive is wrong.

It would be nice if we all can be depressively happy, hilariously bitter, proudly silly, right in being wrong, wrong in being right.I wouldn't mind at all the perfect ironic state of deliciously contradictive bliss, so that I can say to the genetically controlled chemicals running amok inside my head: 'Ha! I beat the crap out of you!'

The biggest problem of all is: there is no problem at all. We all just need to solve something.

Ha!

Masturbation

I like to write. Oooh.
I love to read what I wrote. Oooh.
Me and my crap.
Oooh. I think they are cute.

People too like to write. Oooh.
Everybody's a writer now. Oooh.
People too love to read what they wrote. Oooh.
People and their crap.
Oooh. I think they are the cutest thing.

Oooh. All these writings and readings.
I can't stand it anymore. Ooh.
These are all just too damn cute.

Useless orgasmic delights.

Life too is so.

The Metamathematical Interpretation of Square Root

I suspect, indeed have a deep conviction,
that the square root of four is not two.
It looks very much like,
even identical to,
two. But it is not two.
It still is the same old four,
but with half self-confidence.

In other news,
I suspect, indeed have a deep conviction,
that we are all monkeys fooling around.
This is my hidden agenda.

Counting for Clueless Crowd + Bonus: Not-so-useful Reminder

One death is heartbreaking.
Two deaths is devastating.
Three deaths is confusing.
Ten deaths is unfortunate.
One hundred deaths just sucks.
One thousand deaths is news.
Tens of thousands of deaths is a day like any other.
Millions of deaths is written somewhere, presumably.

Another day closer to death.
Whatever it is.

Counting for Lovers + Bonus: Useful Self-denial

One is for two waiting to happen.
Two is for longing to be one.
Three is for two arms wrapped around a neck.
Four is for two lips locking.
Five is for fucking. (Why?)
Six is for no reason why.
And so fucking on.

Nothingness is all there is.
Yeah.
Emptiness rocks.
Me so zen all day long.