dissapointed

i sometimes wonder if that's all i'm really here for, just to help keep some sort of perpetuating, phantasmic machine alive and that my life is just a secondary thing. when i'm through helping produce crap for others to consume, i will be allowed to rest while i'm replaced, settle down as i become outmoded, and eventually die to make room for a "newer" model to do what i did. our masters are coorporate entities, a real but ghostly giant that feeds, feeds, feeds and only give back to appease the bleeding hearts that report the good deeds. i am but a cog in the machine of life, and i now have 2 more cogs i have helped in pro-creating....

i work so that others may live.

be fruitful and muliply, to consume, to assimlilate, to produce. one divides into two, two begat four, four begat eight who then begat more. we live to exist, and exist to live. work the fields, count the beans, push the widgets through.

i know i ain't the only one who feels this, since many a song and poem have been written about this. tthis is a sad, sad life and i don't like it. i can't fight it, so maybe i should accept it?