::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::Dec/98
::: The Discordant Opposition Journal ::: Issue 1 - File 7 :::
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

:Mindless Ranting:

[This came in as a mail and we were asked to publish it as a
letter, but on reading it we thought it good enough to be
printed]

 The dull monotonous life I lead is deplorable. I get up at 
some, excuse the cliche, un-godly hour and set into motion the 
mindless gears that drive me through the day without the need
for me to be awake or in anything other than a comatosed state.
I drudge through the day without feeling for the lives that I
may just possibly effect. Harm, enrich - does it matter ? Isn't
all change good, any type of change ? I meaninglessly pour my 
feelings onto paper. Large, vivid emotions reduced to nothing
more that dull rantings on plain white paper. An intense lack
of anything better to do and a compulsion to work forces me 
into this slumber-like state of flat 2d sensations. Not dynamic,
not alive, But dead, rotting emotions. My depression is not
only inward, but expressed in everything I do. The One that
keeps me sane and the single, doubtful thought 'I do that same
for Her' keeps my wrists intact...

    -Mindless Ranting of Paranoid Dementia
     Anon