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The True One

Saturday, 12. December 2009, 22:40:10
Likes this sort of diary. It's already familiar. Wonders why it should ever be a blog. Rather, should it be sort of red book to keep in a drawer for decades? Mostly incomprehensible, for sure never to be a best seller. The True One likes empty spaces to fill, be them paper or pixels. The True One would prefer black pixels to fill with grey text, grey dirty text on a dusty screen, a border made yellowish by nicotine. I should sleep. I'll go to sleep when He sleeps. He, not It. He doesn't deserve being called It. Confused reflection at the end of the tunnel of years past; confused yet colorful. Shiny, across distortions. At the bottom of the pit of years past. Are you The One? Were you The One who could have made me true? Grief that finds no vent in tears makes other organs weep. Things you don't throw up through the mouth take another way. See? I'd better sleep, too much truth will ruin your reputation. I need sleep, it's too late for truth. Tomorrow will be better, providing every day is identical, providing tomorrow never really comes. Four thousand mornings, never a dawn. The True One likes to scream His Truths here and there. The False One prays He will not. Well, he needs to pray harder.