You always want what is denied you. Thus, this comfortable and material life which I have been handed and that others covet, I yearn to slough off. Slough off so I can descend into dens of madness that glow maniacally in seething cracks of the underbelly.
After a full year in this bloated institution, reading obscure philosophy that asserted the deliberate contrivance of culture and life itself, I desire nothing more than to immerse myself in this joke of a reality. Being an actor is preferable to being an observer. Though others scrape their thighs and bellies raw, trying to shimmy up this ivory tower with its quaint bird's-eye view, I want to tumble downwards where the people drift through the world of translucent gelatin, slightly blinded and slow-limbed.
Simply because it would be novel.
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