The universe doesn’t give a shit

Ah, shit. So, yeah, it went down like that and I saw it standing there, like a dream. HIS dream was a vivid chase seen, he the perpetrator.

And take it away and be free in the silly winds flowing bellows like the storm inside and I hear the rev and I listen to dry words and I’m confused and the stench is overwhelming and I think it should be more and more and then realize its done.

Just words, I thought, to me, to be, to one and then the direction was clearly that I should say it so I did and then it came crashing down, falling, falling, down around me, so may pieces as I lay watching in wide-eyed terror of the thing the beast and I saw it from without because I knew the demon was within.

And so when asked to stop being so difficult and to just fit in and to stop stirring the pot, I will answer with a resounding, “no.” I might follow up with a “fuck you” if I’m feeling a bit peeved at the perturbation.

And the music goes, “du-du-du-duhhhh duh-da-duh-da.”

But it doesn’t really matter, does it? The universe doesn’t give a shit.