CaptainWacky
I want to smell dark matter
As the board is loading slow I inevitably have to post a thing of the day again.
Becasue trearlhgf
g
da
g[sdigpp
trees
what are trees
they grow out of hte ground
they're made out of wood
it's weird
why does no one ever
question trees
my back is itchy
alwys gets itchy int he same spot
why
don't kow
reall stream of concsicous neess here
tryin posting this on FACeboOK
cunts
yeah
remember whent he word "cunt" had impact
remember when things were beter
maybe
you can only see that they're better now
at the time they probably dind't seem better
but they was!
youc ans ee it now you gays
why did I say "you gays" wheter
er
THERE
was I trying to type "you gusy"
oh who cares
_________________________________
Charles Horse in therapy
_________________________________
"You can see whatever you want to me, Charles. Anything at all."
"I don't want to say anything."
"But you have so much to say. I can tell. There's a lot inside you."
"It's all...it's all rubbish. Just stupid thoughts."
"Maybe it would help to share those thoughts?"
"I can't! Okay."
"I've heard a lot of things in this office. A lot of thoughts. Yours won't shock me."
"JUST GOING TO DIE."
"Okay..."
"Sorry for shouting."
"You think life is piontless because you're just going to die?"
"Yes. Don't you?"
"Maybe. But I'm alive now. This is my time to enjoy life."
"But I don't FUCKING enjoy life you fucking MORON. I FEEL FUCKING NOTHING."
Of course this wasn't real. Charles Horse was simply trying to imagine how a therapy sessions would have gone. He hadn't gotten far. No matter what he said, no matter what the therapist said, he'd still be Charles Horse. He'd always be Charles Horse. He wasn't meant for this reality. He couldn't understand other people and they could never understand him. How did they feel things? How were they happy? How did they not spend every waking moment thinking about death? Why were they happy to die. WHY. He was Charles Horse. The only man who could see the truth of reality. The only man who cared.
"Why isn't every human being currently alive working together to cure death? We could live forever, we could be the universe itself, if we only tried."
"People are meant to die...
"FUCK OFF."
He punched his fist through his therapist's chest and ripped out their still beating heart. He hadn't decided yet if the therpaist was a man or a woman. He felt like it was a man now. It seemed worse to murder a woman. But why should it be?
He looked at the heart as he held it in his hand. Everyone died. People with great lives would die like him. Be erased. He thought of all the famous celebrities who had died. All dead. EVERYONE DEAD.
He laughed insanely and ate his therapist's heart whole.
Of course it wasn't real.
But if it had been, it wouldn't have mattered anyway.
____________________________________________________________
YUCK yucK
IT'S THE UcIK ycis
gjpjg
it's the he
g
sag
how fotne
DURR
WHAt'S THE POINT
DURR
ithcy arms
got themitchy arms
why can't peoplejust post on mesage boards liket hey used to
it's not that hard
and it would make me happy
andisn't that the whole point of the universe: to make me happy?
Becasue trearlhgf
g
da
g[sdigpp
trees
what are trees
they grow out of hte ground
they're made out of wood
it's weird
why does no one ever
question trees
my back is itchy
alwys gets itchy int he same spot
why
don't kow
reall stream of concsicous neess here
tryin posting this on FACeboOK
cunts
yeah
remember whent he word "cunt" had impact
remember when things were beter
maybe
you can only see that they're better now
at the time they probably dind't seem better
but they was!
youc ans ee it now you gays
why did I say "you gays" wheter
er
THERE
was I trying to type "you gusy"
oh who cares
_________________________________
Charles Horse in therapy
_________________________________
"You can see whatever you want to me, Charles. Anything at all."
"I don't want to say anything."
"But you have so much to say. I can tell. There's a lot inside you."
"It's all...it's all rubbish. Just stupid thoughts."
"Maybe it would help to share those thoughts?"
"I can't! Okay."
"I've heard a lot of things in this office. A lot of thoughts. Yours won't shock me."
"JUST GOING TO DIE."
"Okay..."
"Sorry for shouting."
"You think life is piontless because you're just going to die?"
"Yes. Don't you?"
"Maybe. But I'm alive now. This is my time to enjoy life."
"But I don't FUCKING enjoy life you fucking MORON. I FEEL FUCKING NOTHING."
Of course this wasn't real. Charles Horse was simply trying to imagine how a therapy sessions would have gone. He hadn't gotten far. No matter what he said, no matter what the therapist said, he'd still be Charles Horse. He'd always be Charles Horse. He wasn't meant for this reality. He couldn't understand other people and they could never understand him. How did they feel things? How were they happy? How did they not spend every waking moment thinking about death? Why were they happy to die. WHY. He was Charles Horse. The only man who could see the truth of reality. The only man who cared.
"Why isn't every human being currently alive working together to cure death? We could live forever, we could be the universe itself, if we only tried."
"People are meant to die...
"FUCK OFF."
He punched his fist through his therapist's chest and ripped out their still beating heart. He hadn't decided yet if the therpaist was a man or a woman. He felt like it was a man now. It seemed worse to murder a woman. But why should it be?
He looked at the heart as he held it in his hand. Everyone died. People with great lives would die like him. Be erased. He thought of all the famous celebrities who had died. All dead. EVERYONE DEAD.
He laughed insanely and ate his therapist's heart whole.
Of course it wasn't real.
But if it had been, it wouldn't have mattered anyway.
____________________________________________________________
YUCK yucK
IT'S THE UcIK ycis
gjpjg
it's the he
g
sag
how fotne
DURR
WHAt'S THE POINT
DURR
ithcy arms
got themitchy arms
why can't peoplejust post on mesage boards liket hey used to
it's not that hard
and it would make me happy
andisn't that the whole point of the universe: to make me happy?
