Disgust

We will never be able to live normal lives. What good would they be to us: normal lives? What would we do with them: normal lives? They’d be wasted on us, normal lives.

And normal satisfactions! And all the things that other people want! We don’t even know what we want. Our kind doesn’t.

We can’t count upon our normal instincts. We don’t have them – normal instincts. We aren’t like other people.

We’re always … casting about, our kind. And philosophy’s just our mode of … casting about.

We’re restless. We lie awake at night. We worry about improbable things. We have strange things on our minds.

 

Nothing is as it should be – we know that. Something hasn’t been settled. There’s a … debt to pay. A cosmic debt. Something’s owed. The whole of reality … has been bought on credit. And it has to be paid back.

And until it is, it’s not ours. We don’t live here. And there’s nowhere to live. And we don’t know what to do. How to … occupy ourselves. We make mistakes … but are they mistakes?

 

Someone turned the lights off. In our lives. In our heads. We were dealt blows – terrible blows. And we ended up here. Here we are.

And what are we doing here? Here, rather than anywhere else? What are we hallucinating? Everything? Anything? Why isn’t the world just the world? Why isn’t the world the world anymore? Why are we so lost?

 

Sordid. It’s so sordid. It’s so disgusting. That we have to be involved with this. That we have to be here. That we have to live at this level. Among these things. That we have to be tied up with all this. That we have to be a part of it. That we have to inhabit this disgusting world. That we have to feel these disgusting things.

We’re stunned. We’re still stunned. Still surprised. That things have turned out as they have.

 

So tawdry. So vacuous. So empty. So hollow. We shout out and no one responds. We cry out.

 

The world’s exhausted. This world. It’s spent. Just like we’re spent. Like spent cartridges. The world’s fired. It’s shot its bullet into the void. And now?

 

We’re all cut off. We’re all aliens. What would we do, if it weren’t for each other?

We’re all equally disgusted. That’s what holds us together. Equal in disgust. Equal in despair.