(no subject)
Click. The word has been pussified because of the internet and we associate it with 'surfing' the web. And what a fucking malaprop that is. One of the most difficult and physically demanding leisure sports, also pussified by tha interweb.
Click, for me, used to invoke something promising. The lights going off for a deed too dastardly for artificial light. The cocking of a gun. The snap of a lock. The purring closure of a pair of cuffs. I hear click now, and I picture the word underlined. That I've turned my head into this medium and lived within it makes me physically ill. All we have to eat are words and I haven't made mine tender enough. And I'm starving. I've lost my edge, it's been dulled through pixelization.
My New Year's resolution is 1024 x 768.
I'm going for a walk.
Click, for me, used to invoke something promising. The lights going off for a deed too dastardly for artificial light. The cocking of a gun. The snap of a lock. The purring closure of a pair of cuffs. I hear click now, and I picture the word underlined. That I've turned my head into this medium and lived within it makes me physically ill. All we have to eat are words and I haven't made mine tender enough. And I'm starving. I've lost my edge, it's been dulled through pixelization.
My New Year's resolution is 1024 x 768.
I'm going for a walk.