I Robot?
Ahha.... and now i blog again. Due to the absence of my girlfriend, i suddenly realise i do not have a life.
I feel the weight of tons of existential bull shit, asking myself question like what is art? And on impulse answering myself that it is a lie that helps us see the truth. And this is followed by what is truth and so on and so forth.
Basically i feel kinda dead. I feel like i have the life expactancy of Steve Irwin. Sometimes i wonder if he actually is a real person, maybe hes one of a set of identical quadruplets, and discovery is down to their last Irwin. In fact to say I feel that I'd live as long as Steve Irwin might be an understatement. After all he did live long enough to have kids. Which by my understanding means a baby goat. That man just loves animals a little too much.
In fact I feel i have the life expactancy of Steve Irwin after carrying his infant child into a pit full of crocodiles in front of the the TV crew, press and Mrs Irwin.
So I havent blogged in a while. I just dont like writing nobody really actually (for lack of a better word here i will put a blank) ____ about what i have to say. The only real point to blogging is hearing the steady tapping of the keyboard and being able to think about what i'm saying.
Who really likes to think. Thinking implies thought, which implies youth which implies angst with implies worry, loneliness, emptiness, cleanliness, goldiness, and god is empty just like me.
Ok feeling very pumpkins.
But lets talk about I Robot, by Alan Parsons Project. Not exactly top 40 material but beyond the bad was kinda beyond its time in a pink floydish kinda way. At the end of the day we are robots with scarcely a human identity.
I NoT robot I Unique... bah whatever. just thought i'd say that for fun. No point in making a point. Good Morning Sunshine. I Wouldn't Want to be Like You.
I feel the weight of tons of existential bull shit, asking myself question like what is art? And on impulse answering myself that it is a lie that helps us see the truth. And this is followed by what is truth and so on and so forth.
Basically i feel kinda dead. I feel like i have the life expactancy of Steve Irwin. Sometimes i wonder if he actually is a real person, maybe hes one of a set of identical quadruplets, and discovery is down to their last Irwin. In fact to say I feel that I'd live as long as Steve Irwin might be an understatement. After all he did live long enough to have kids. Which by my understanding means a baby goat. That man just loves animals a little too much.
In fact I feel i have the life expactancy of Steve Irwin after carrying his infant child into a pit full of crocodiles in front of the the TV crew, press and Mrs Irwin.
So I havent blogged in a while. I just dont like writing nobody really actually (for lack of a better word here i will put a blank) ____ about what i have to say. The only real point to blogging is hearing the steady tapping of the keyboard and being able to think about what i'm saying.
Who really likes to think. Thinking implies thought, which implies youth which implies angst with implies worry, loneliness, emptiness, cleanliness, goldiness, and god is empty just like me.
Ok feeling very pumpkins.
But lets talk about I Robot, by Alan Parsons Project. Not exactly top 40 material but beyond the bad was kinda beyond its time in a pink floydish kinda way. At the end of the day we are robots with scarcely a human identity.
I NoT robot I Unique... bah whatever. just thought i'd say that for fun. No point in making a point. Good Morning Sunshine. I Wouldn't Want to be Like You.
posted by Seython at 2:15 pm
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