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Meat Grinder ... January 15, 2005
There is just too much weirdness in the world. i have been terribly distracted by it here recently, too. i can't stop writing these little short stories about it, either. i feel like i'm one of those fucking teenagers who writes bad scary stories about vampires or something. you know, the ones that all have the same boring, gory plot. only my "vampire" isn't the blood drinking creature of legend. nope. my monster is insubstantial and everywhere. i mean, how can we escape from a bloodthirsty, soul stealing reality? i guess some people try hiding behind their crosses or whatever other religious symbols they might unwisely put their faith in. but just like the unfaithful men in the vampire stories, such flimsy shields never last long. might as well be hiding behind a piece of off-brand plastic wrap. the world, this reality, is so much bigger than you could ever hope to be. if it somehow is determined that you're going out, i guess you might as well get ready for it. resistance only seems to make your untimely end even more strange and untimely. i guess that's why i can't stop thinking and writing about it. i feel a deep connection to my characters, the ones in my stories and the ones that never made it out of my imagination and onto the page. i feel like i am surrounded by a reality that thinks like a predator, that is, if you could say that it thinks at all. perhaps it's more like a meat grinder, chewing us gritty chunks of flesh into little bitty bits so that at some point in the future, the real consumer, whoever that is, will have no trouble swallowing us up.
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