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The One True Love
I'm gonna marry the ocean.
There is so much liquid in my body that wants to get back back back to its origin, back to fucking freedom.
[All truly beautiful alliterations contain the word fuck.]
I want to get my feet off of the ground, it's only vaguely satisfying if you're barefooted, else it's all a waste of time, walking and such.
Can't feel a thing except for cotton.
Whose idea was evolution when we were all feeling fine being nothing but slugs, floating around amidst all that water and salt?
Whose idea was it to built houses with carpets and a tv set that constantly shows American comedies and whose idea was it to built offices and invent the people who go there?
Whose idea was civilization when it let to people becoming old and ugly and jerking off while watching porno videos? Quite the fulfilment of life.
Fuck no. Let me disappear in the darker shadows, in those that aren't accessible by tvs and suits and ties.
Remember what Captain Ahab said about the ocean?
Remember how beautifully it is reminsicent of human beings such as myself?
I want to marry the ocean because we're so alike in nature and because he'll never cease to pull me towards him.
I rather drown than fall.