becoming alphred j. prufrock once again; oh the damning curiosity of fates dichotomous nature. the air is full this morning. the sky is still gray. i never would become the old corpse newton so fervently suggested. it was because of the midwestern lights. they all want the spirited frivolity of the sickened fools mind. damn me. have it. then they feel human. as i do. as i do not. no one can comprehend the absent pulse and sentient misnomer of being alive as i do. for to even contemplate the silencing of ones own life takes a mad man much trouble to dote on. so i dote. and in the end i decided if living is as inconsequential as death then the two are one in the same. and so i walked. they say chemicals precipitated from depression can kill a man. much like the willing atrophy of a spose that survives follows their loved one into the dark by simply rushing natural death. so i tried. and it beats stubbornly. then i concluded it must mean i am alive for some greater purpose. so i let live. i the fool. let me scare you away. let my looks charm you then my soul freightnen you to many sleepless nights. for that is what it seems i am. a nowhere man. damn the norms of formality. live as a bastard. live as a saint. live as you construct. the way you invent your own reality. so i do. and cured something of a hell. it seems laughable. so laugh. who i am matters but only as a supplement to your molehill of selfesteem and confidance. it is 3 in the morning and i have come nearly full circle. am i to pray now? goodnight vast void. treat me well.