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Old 2005-01-09, 11:11
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Infinity Infinity is offline
Life is pain.
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Join Date: Jun 2004
Location: Australia
Posts: 4,510
I'm getting sick of coming back to hangar ninety six, but there is no avoiding it. This is what my existence needs. My existence is the demise of many others' arms and legs. The world is not a good place, nor is there innocence for me to hide in. Seven hundred and sixty one pairs of eyes look around the room aimlessly, and mine join the crowd. I see these bodies, massacred, immobile. For all the carnage here, the stench of decay is non-existent.
I try to turn away. The hangar spins but nothing moves, and my view is the same. I look, but don't see any sanitation workers, for that matter, I haven't seen the guys in suits since they dissapeared from my hallway.
I am getting nervous because her voice is carrying some emotional baggage with it, now. "Ever since you bought me that chewing gum, on a lark, I've been in love with you."
Sure, my response might have seemed a little cryptic, "If there is no justice, then how can the ends justify the means? Take that wax, for example, (I've started to ramble on now just like on the subway, and she is looking at me with that same look of hostility, bordering on the old familiar meaningless uncommunicative scream) when the candle was lit, did it know that in the end it was going to burn down to nothing and disappear into the air? You lit the candle to get the light from it. Your end was to have my asparagus and carrot cabin lit by this light. You used the candle as a means to obtain this. Does the light justify the destruction of the candle? What is justification to a piece of wax? Its the same as the justification that you've given me about this 'durability' and our relationship."
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