if it weren't for the void within each and everyone of us what would the inter-network connect to from snub to snog it's all been pre-conceived choreographed by the masters of illusion responsible for circulation of empty information a virtual shangri-la in google we trust truth be told I should've been gone two weeks ago but I've put my extended life on my credit card holding at 7.24% APR and I can always flaunt bankruptcy try collecting anything from me when I'm floating face down below Big Sur spoken ocean imagining a space between Bogart & Hitchcock the good old days of white lies dead flies black ties and dark skies we've seen the picture from a rear view mirror just in time for a Walter Cronkite news bulletin smile as if Kennedy had expected what was about to happen envisioned it coming out of Cuba Israel Moscow Khrushchev bathing in butter fried foie gras and human caviar blessed by the holy hammer & sickle one in the nose sticks and stones may break my bones but names tickle my balls one in the gut the other in the Bible is not without value but isn't it funny that it is taken word for word literally by the most illiterate among us why learn how to read when its so much easier to be deceived? "I'm pretty sure I can hear someone screaming in the house next to ours down the canyon and I close my window. I can also hear the dog barking out in back and KROQ is playing old Doors songs and War of the Worlds is on channel thirteen and I switch it to some religious program where the preacher is yelling 'Let God use you. God wants to use you. Lie back and let him use you, use you.' 'Lie back' he keeps chanting. 'Use you, use you.' I'm drinking gin and melted ice in bed and imagine that I can hear someone breaking in. But Daniel says over the phone that it's probably my sisters getting something to drink. It's hard to believe Daniel tonight; on the news I hear there were four people beaten to death in the hills last night and I stay up most of the night looking out the window staring into the backyard looking for werewolves."
Easton Ellis, Less Than Zero
