Of course she uses a spear. Of course – what else would she use? What else, but something that lets her remain on her moral pedestal, yet reduces flesh to carnage just the same as any other? What else, but an impersonal face-to-face? It’s beautiful. She’s made something poetic out weapon choices. Who else? Who else, but her?


Her body cascades down the cliff, and she’s bathed in the afterglow of the twilight sky. The wind pinches her cheeks. The figures and forms that she observed from above are alien now, shifting with her ever-changing perspective. She fidgets with the zippers and buttons on her jacket, closing any opened pockets and patting down […]

She perches herself on the cliff top, feet teasing the edge of a finite oblivion.

“End-game” is essentially planned obsolescence. There’s only so many toys that your parents can give you before they run out of money. There’s only so many rides on the theme park, and only so much time in the day to go on the rides. You can cry all you want, but you’re never going to persuade the finitude of the human condition to cater to your demands.

Everything can be broken down into soul-sucking routines if you’re pessimistic enough.

Hello. Here’s Mr. 500-words-a-day, back at it again with another cool, insightful post about nothing of importance, coupled with an image of absolute irrelevance. I hope my 2 followers haven’t completely abandoned me just yet.

People love talking about “immortality” and “divine beings,” but this – this is the equivalent of modern transcendence. If you can do this, you’ve essentially “won.” You have risen above the petty qualms and quibbles of contemporary life. You are truly a warrior of the post-postmodern era.