In this long death, this so called life, this great Hell we have envisaged for each other, In this choking misery we have created for ourselves, I am sure God sees no bloody relief.

Years upon years upon years of making things better, bleeding ourselves with the leeches of progress, medicine, convenience, that we might not succumb to the natures desires.

And here I am left maiming deer, as they struggle across the polluted blacktop that mars their homes. Here I am insulting myself with the first steps toward a life of fulfilment, productivity, luxury.

And the great arsehole in the sky might smile upon this self discovery, might feel blessed that one more of his little experiments is working its way toward the light, and down here in the great green Hell, the lesser of his test-tube babies get run over again and again, so that we might concentrate on our wellbeing.

Makes me fucking sick.


~ by Gethin A. Lynes on June 2nd, 2009.

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