The Wax Conspiracy

Must Not Sleep. Must Warn Others.

bouncing from one second to the next, from one minute to the other, he always drew some fulfillment from constant movement. figuring that if he kept moving all else would fall into place, figuring that if he kept moving all else would fall into place, and, well, so what if it didn't? surely in this constant movement he wouldn't notice the passage of time, and when it came time to make the journey to the other side (where?) he'd merely clock-out as expected. but somewhere along the line he made the mistake of taking a closer look at the bigger picture: friends & families, engagements & weddings, "no tattoos, you'll never get a job," christenings, baptism, middle-class mediocrity. and, in it, she saw EVERYTHING she hated, and she wanted a piece of the action, a slice of the pie. like a dog, she was frothing at the mouth, trying to grab a bite, trying to grab a bite. university, "you've got to be your best," jobs now, from jobs to jobs to jobs to jobs, moving still, but only within that limited framework: career, family, culture, tradition, religion, career, "universal freedom." alienated & bored. bored. bored, she finds herself in a miserable stasis.

Belvedere Jehosophat

Written on Tuesday, 2 November 2004

The Wax Conspiracy

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