With all the inventions that stand forth in front, I can not bring myself to talk any longer about the materials presented again forth in front. In front of the rows of filth, and dirty little bugs that flood the streets and houses of pure innocent children. All those that may attempt this task of extermination are presented with the moral dilemma that begins with a genocide of theories. The removal of all existing thought, and of course political standpoints. This effect is something that I can’t even begin to grasp, because its so horrible, and frightening to the naked eye. Nonsensical at first glance, but being a in an environment of some sort of blank state; may as well be the definition of unbiased. Without any sort of preconceived notions on any sort of topic; how can anyone take a stance beyond one that makes… sense. Without moving towards this genocide of thought, you are again lost amongst the clouds of daydreamers. Hoping things are quite as simple as people point them out to be. One sided, and confused.
At birth I may stare at a blank wall, and leave myself to be a bit odd. I may leave myself pushed up against that very wall, and just stare at the paint at my feet. At birth, the wall is still a dry open canvas. This is the pre-genocidal coincidence mentioned above. This is the nonsense in the novel that is stored in reality. This is the time and date of death for all of humanity. The very first mistake is what pushed the snow to a tumbling fatalistic, catastrophic fall. This little element, this little tiny insignificant significance, is the very tear drop that a holy figure was to shed on the cross in the very same world that created itself.
We all live in that very world where we assume we are in fact real. The consequence of thinking such is in fact the very same consequence of stupidity. Let all things be damned for the very nature of them is the very same thing that I cry and weep over as I can’t think of the possibilities of and in thought theoretical nonsense that my blood has washed AWAY IN THE DEPTHS OF ALL THAT CAN’T RUIN MY OWN INNOCENCE THAT HAS ALREADY BEEN TAINTED BY THE PURE FACT OF POST-BIRTH LIFE. WITHOUT THE GENOCIDE OF THEORIES WE AS HUMAN BEINGS FAIL TO GRASP ALL THAT I LOVE AND CHERISH. IF BLISS IS IGNORANCE THEN I’D RATHER BE STARVING AND MAD.