driving at night on main roads with no police everybody starts to speed. they have these tense little races with each other, overtaking at ninety kilometers an hour in an eighty zone.
walking at night there is a compulsion to appear slightly dangerous, even though dangerous looking people are the ones you're hoping not to meet.
ever since a child in a cardboard box was crushed by a truck, people are careful to swerve around rubbish they see on the road. but nobody ever gets out to check if there is an infant wrapped in trash in the middle of the street.
do only so much as to appear aware.
the promise is that you're the only one pretending. that secretly in a world of dropped pretenses you'd come out on top. shed your snakeskin and reveal something older and stronger than your appearance might suggest.
i could fuck your girlfriend if i decided to. beat you in a fight. drive faster than you in an eighty zone. the promise is made to yourself that you're only playing along. that if astrology came under serious attack you could reassert yourself as the centre of the universe.
the promise is that action is not necessary as long as the thought is maintained. no need to exercise a power you're sure of. convince yourself that a life of quiet arrogance is justified because even though you never proved it, you're an individual of potential.
society is a laboratory to examine the functionality of compassion, promise. solipsism is ready and waiting in the wings, promise. you are complete in and of yourself. promise.
thought belies honesty, your rationale meticulously engineers systems of superiority to all contenders without ever necessitating conflict.
maintain one's individuality in all cases. self-preservation hinders humility. i am convinced i will destroy this world before it destroys me, but i never clench my fists.
why put weakness to the test?
i think therefore i'm not.