Did the aquafilter filter out the failure?
Somehow I don't think so.
No, you drink your floating white chunks of flesh failure straight from the paranoid pulse of your tesselated stroke cycles, strolling down the streets of a convenient ideal NY, dreaming of life's amplitude modulator.
The dealer of this excessively dandy device gives you a good sales pitch: haven't you ever yearned to control the amplitude of your life? Well now you can - OBSERVE! (Idle ideal NY alley transition):
Walking walking, fine and dandy, but the texture you thought a smooth sharp seamless searing painful pastiche of unrelenting emotionally-sinewed intensity... the edge flakes off in scratches, consciousness garroted into the void... you feel a twist in your spine, your nerves short - clik cliky clikkkkkkkkkkk k k kk kk- and we're back, WTF?
What the fuck was that, you think? You felt a twist in your spine and you were gone, dead in the head for millisecond intervals, several hundred of them, spread over a deadhead deca-second - your life's amplitude modulated, you felt, in superposition, a binary bedspread of deadhead, you felt the void in juxtaposition, a bankrupt yin purred across your wheel of fortune - you felt it, in and out, the life amplitude modulator...
You like to carry that spine severing pattern around with you like a hole in your pocket, useful for dealing with meanies. You've accepted the fuckup money because you're not an idealist or a principled radical. You'll burn it up, put it into the economy.
You'll dream of crack again, and you could go for another klicking flick of that life amplitude modulator right now: klikkkk kkk kk kk kkkkk
kk
k kkklik Click, and we're back:
Wow, that was a long one.
The flotsam of failure still floats in your glass. But who cares, you've got the life amplitude modulator, you can klik yourself momentarily out of your value system... mmm, that's the lipsmacking klikfactor no one can lipsync to.
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