| xxxxxxxxxxxxx | I wrestle hopelessly with my butchered breath as it is caustically consumed by my electric handbag. How can I call my cunt an electric handbag when it drags on my wrists like a dull blade? This is melodrama. This is mayhem. I must backtrack to my cyber life or death dilemma. To drink the blood of my cunt or to drown in my own tears. Can I escape my digital destiny AND do I want to? I politely ponder this quizzical question and wish wonder my wish whispers. Is the digital death through drowning the only connection to humanity left? Am I any more “human” than my humble cyborg limb? And again, do I want to be? Should I envelope this stream? I crunch my numbers and meld my digits. I wring my hands and hold my breath. Now I have no breath. I am drowning.  |
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