||[Aug. 7th, 2004|06:39 am]
|||||the books - tokyo||]|
What are you. Are u an instance of a web-application? Do u have no soul? How do u feel about me. Do u have an opinion on what i write. Possibly u could declare that i am corny and stupid. possibly u could declare that u are a slave to my imagination. possibly u are nothing at all except a cataloged library of seemingly arbitrary 0's and 1's that are socially interpreted into the formation of the somewhat insignificant literary expressions of a human being named anton in the very specific moment of time in the history of this world.. the scale that this thought describes of a very specific idea and moment in time compared to the infinite amount of specific moments in time that have occured in the past and the very pretentious future.. it leads the chaos of my internal environment (my mind plus an significant amount of abstraction) to realize its place and give up on interest of subjectivity in things from the new-found focus of a world beyond the innards of myself that is thus purely based on the existence of an infinite number of objects, physically and meta-physcially, made up from an infinite number of intrinsic objects. this journal is an object; possible of having a relation with an endless number of other objects. this can go on into infinite. this can not make sense or stop stop stop stop (voiced in a monotonous tone .) stop././//////////////////////////////_+***********************&$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$^@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@&Q
44444|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| this iks thwer enddddd(minus this vice i used in my last journal)..... i am not original. i AM not cool.