Scrutinizing a bagel
[With no rhyme or reason as to why it continues to exist within this strange impossibility that attempts to regard itself as a hotel, Trueman finds himself in the cafe, observing the behaviours of those around it, seeking out the feelings of despair. Perhaps someone can be convinced to end his or her life and then Trueman will feel it's done something of note, not that it really needs to know.
It doesn't need to know. It needs no such thanks or praise or---no. It doesn't need anyone to tell it it's doing what it needs to do. It isn't lost or confused in the slightest. It is in this state that Trueman finds himself staring at a bagel.
Even the bagel looked like a god damned lie. All of that compact, fattening bread. It was an abomination amongst foods.]
It doesn't need to know. It needs no such thanks or praise or---no. It doesn't need anyone to tell it it's doing what it needs to do. It isn't lost or confused in the slightest. It is in this state that Trueman finds himself staring at a bagel.
Even the bagel looked like a god damned lie. All of that compact, fattening bread. It was an abomination amongst foods.]