Fear

Whats so great about being afraid? It's not like we get paid for it. Its not like we get some sort of prize at the end of a hard lonely night, crouched underneath a behemoth of a man, one with a knife. He's about to do something foolish. I can feel it. He feels it too. Makes him all the more unpredictable. Can he really see me? Does he feel me. Does he sense the fear in the pits of my chest and the sweat in the curves of my eyes?
Am I still alive? Do I still hear you? Am I fearful without my body? do I have a heart without the sense of beating? Am I still here?
Whats left when it's all taken? Do I have some sort of quidditas? Do I matter when the lights are out? Do you? Do we stabilize without observers or are the observers the only ones that keep us phrenic?
This man again. Who does he think he is? What brought him here? does it matter more than what brought me here? i doubt it, death is pretty important.
It keeps us in the world, feeds the life of Adam.
This Kadmon business is tiring. I get tired everyday around 11 at night, sometimes earlier. sometimes later. This keeps me happy most of the time.
I'm neither alone nor lonely, only the lost can see that though.
It's so much easier to be free when life is all about the pussy.
It's so much furrier to be about the life when death is all around us.
War.
Keep up the good work. It's been a while since I've seen the end of the world acted out before us. Keep in mind I'm only 12, just like my lord.
Hua allahu alazi, lailaha illa hua.
Whatever man, Arabs still scare me, maybe another hijacker! who knows. I'd rather be hateful than sorry.
It's all a matter of opinion. I've been cherishing that thought for years and upon inspection I've found it to be wanting, both in substance and form.
Would you please pass the salt, I can't live without it. Hurts too much.
Could you please do me better?
I could live without it but I like the way it feels.
Sense me?
Sense you!!
keep it to yourself!
I've had enough. I'm building a boat and drowning the rest. Keep me raised up above the level I need to be and I'm sure I'll find my way.
Raise it good you stupid fuck!
keep me quietly devoured in a shelter for the homeless, rapt up in little beds of ambient flowers and the scent of young girls. They scare me less now that I've been to prison.
I could stab people in the eyes, not in the back though, too much blood.
I'd faint for sure.
I think jesus still loves me. If he doesn't I'll make him love me if it kills him.
Could it be, am I him? I've wanted this day my whole life. To be free of the turmoil of wanting brings to mind the fact that I've never really been satisfied.
Can you see it in my face? could you smell it on my breath?
I'd rather have a cavity. Clean it yourself!