Ants are supposedly able to carry up to ten times their own weight on useful items that will expire conveniently to hold the fungus they feast on. I, for that matter, have been unable to find an eight-kilo ant to test that theory; I can however go far enough as to testify their lack of hability to carry eighty kilos worth of humankind and not crush under its pressure.
Thing is, I'm feeling kind of ant-ish as of late. I can easily withstand loads of tonnage of total bullshit destined to become an useful forgetness. Yet, I seem unable to get with the burden of my own humanity up on my shoulders. That's no to mean the mere four-dimensional aspect of my head is gonna tear 'em appart; it's all those bloody electrical shots -the creepy meaning of those- what's getting harder to shuttle as days go by.
I may just be a little burnt out. Like a big tank of rocket fuel, once I got expended, I'm just getting in the way of things of utmost importance that need getting done. Shit went real, but the freakin' three green arrows are right there: I'm rechargeable. So, I find miself in dire need of getting in touch with those forces that can bring me back in one piece. Alternate or direct, current currents just seem to tend to tear things apart, while this humble self just needs unity of spirit.
So I'm going offline for a while. That beatiful grid of meaning that hooked to reality got me high enough to show new horizons, but forbade me of checking just how deep the hole beneath really was. And looking into the abyss was a long overdue task that I kept posponing, but forever is unachievable in that sort of matter.
In dire need of hooking back to the mud to have the oportunity to reach the skies without hugging the Sun the Icarus way, I'm off for a time with myself that will, hopefully, allow to have time for everyone around me. This Goodbye is of course a See ya later mates, I'm not planning on anything as stupid or meaningful as it may seem. Am just looking to find that little twisted shit that once made me
Something different.
