et cetera

The moments of my time these days have been reduced to scrounging. This life is nothing but suffering. Excuse the nihilism, please. We only have but blinks and twinkles of the stars; this is all we are. The blatant quickness of breathes these days is seen so clearly even in the darkest glaze of a Belgian lattice scene. Torn asunder, thrown to and fro, by the fancy glances of a biermaid I did go. The darkness takes over in these hard times. Where is there left to grow? The wilderness has been taken. The mountains have been conquered, since the plains have been tilled and pillaged to their final throws, Where else is there to go? What else is there to know? Since the knowing has been known. Into the abysmal abyss we are thrown. But hence we will return with hope in our hearts. As indifference will guide us, til death do it's part.