We were fucked up in the right direction – that’s what Livia thought. We had an innate Gnosticism, that only had to be brought on. Encouraged.
We had a sense of Urgency. We were touched by a sense of the Apocalypse. Livia liked that. We weren’t Complacent.
There was something wrong with us. We were one sided. Exaggerated. We had little … sense of proportion. Little to no balance.
We weren’t well rounded individuals. Something had gone wrong in our development. We had mutated in some way. Dysgenics was at work. A kind of warping of the soul.
We were Damaged – no question. We were fuck ups – but apocalyptic fuck ups.
Singing our dysgenic songs. Our mutants’ laments. In the fuck up’s choir.
God’s favourite fuck ups – that’s who we were.
We were mushrooms, growing in the world’s night. Mould, growing on the world’s walls.
We ring stupidity’s bells. We sound the stupidity’s basso profundo.
Work in Progress 