The Machine

I am angry. I finally reluctantly got scared enough that I paid the taxes I supposedly owed my country in one lump sum. And click, just like that half of the money I had, but never really had, is gone just like that. Maybe one day they can just as well take my life and everything I have, but don't really have, in the same manner. One wrong move and it's all gone. Being in the Machine is to walk with precipices on all sides while the floor, a cog disguised as footing, wants to push you off. I stared at the screen in fear and acceptance of the executioner. Two, and only two, drops of sweat dripped from each of my armpits all the way down my body. Not sweat, not bathwater, but fear transmuted into liquid. Liquid hopelessness. Fuck.• Everywhere, in inklings, I'm being charged for living. To stop is to allow more and more tendrils to attach themselves and slowly suck the meat off you. It's one tiny currency exchange rate discrepancy here, one minimal conversion charge there, one commission for being outside the eurozone here, and one tax on that same commission there. And always unawarely and blindingly signing contracts everywhere. I thought I was just buying eggs. Apparently I was also accepting something. "I accept that I have been offered a choice of currencies for payment & that this choice is final. I accept the conversion rate & final amount & the selected transaction currency. The guaranteed Ex rate is based on Reuters rate of the previous banking day including a hedging margin not exceeding NIEFISKALNY." Words that don't even make sense, that don't have to, or that maybe are meant not to make sense - banditspeak. Infinitesimal punishments for not being a driver of a cog, a headbandit, but a mere unsuspecting pawn. No rest. I feel like I always want to merely have a choice of resting but no, there's always gloom on the horizon. Summer is beautiful and yet it's tainted with threats. And everywhere everyone in the Machine looking down on you, but not to their knowledge. "What are going to do today?" "Nothing" is the true answer but I lie. "I don't know." They say "Really tired today, I worked a lot." I remember that feeling, it does feel nice in a way, doesn't mean that it isn't bullshit. Oh Sighs from the Skies, I was so Calm, and now my timer was cut in half. I just wanted to love and be loved for a while. Just to be happy for a while, but someone always has to remind me that September ends. "You have to order something if you're going to sit here." I'll stand. I see it now, I know why I was fascinated by last year's promises. They promised me the end of these feelings, the knots in the chest, the stifled heartbeats. It kills me this feeling, I really do feel my organs decaying each minute my mind spends in this place. And again my Mission appears, the Holy Graal shines and yells "Escapedom!" where before there was only darkness and false Neon Graal imitations, and the Cold. I want to Languish... I want to give up and freeze and melt right here, but fortunately I know that the Me will not let me Languish, that it will pick itself up from the pits of Boredom and guide and use me and waste my body for a while in exchange for the next step. I wanted to be still a while, (did I?), I guess that won't happen, (I didn't want it.) The end of the battle with the Machine is still a ways off, but fuck you and your tricks, I will be the victor. • The thought came to me again, that in my great moments I am alone, I don't face the final boss with a party. Even if strong linkages abound and there is a flow of Love, I need, will always need, to face the road alone, and I'm sure that is how I will cherish it the most. I will conquer this continent alone on two wheels and two legs, and it'll be at my speed, and bit by bit the Earth will have to accept that I am in charge of my rotation, not She, and that her surface is my slave, and will open paths for me to pass and accept my rule.
Fuck, do I want to be free!