BY indefiniteloop

“There is a melancholy hidden in these routines which sound like histories that have been played over and over again before and this routine will keep on playing over and over again like day and night followed by day and night again followed by day and night until day and night too are taken for granted and assimilated into the routine that has become too orderly repetitive and repetitive so much so that it has now become a thought of hindsight while pettiness and petty fortunes form the vanguard of a lost battle in a war that has spun it’s tail for millenniums but will not be won sooner or later but instead will make us all martyrs of our own causes that will become notes once our statues are raised and then these lost causes will then be assimilated into this hidden hideous melancholy day and night after day and night until there remains naught but the silent night filled with poetic potential’s death notes.” —

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