Idea for a TV show: Tempires. It's a sitcom about "young" vampires making a living in New York doing temp office jobs. The underlying joke is that, although the temps stay on forever, the permanent staff keeps disappearing and being replaced. I'm not going to do anything with it. Feel free to write and produce it and make millions. Good luck.
As for me, I've become too lost to look for myself any longer, too overcome with life to attempt living. I'm frozen in place by activity, like some quantum effect they never teach you about because fuck you, that's why. "No one told me about it, why should I tell you?" So we just seize up and vibrate, uninformed quanta of uncertain principles, negative, but attracted to the positive, density collapsing toward singularity, with us balanced precariously at the event horizon. "Supernova is what you hope for," says a voice from somewhere nearby. "It's the last, best chance for escape."
But enough of that.
My life, let's be honest, is easy and good. Hands reach out from all sides to pat me on the back. I sleep floating in an ocean of warm adoration. Lips kiss me awake. Cool breezes blow through my soul. I am fire and snow and mountain and flight, the firmament and the heavens of my own dream land. I am free to lament the silky chains that shackle me to beauty and peace and love. I have time to write letters of grievance between my orgasms of laughter and joy. I pick dramatically at the locks that hang loose on the open gates of my paradise, carelessly playing the prisoner. What am I to do? How shall I survive?
Idea for a TV show: Pantocrime. It's about cops who are mimes. The dialogue writes itself. Again, feel free to run with the idea.
Hello, friends. How are you?
Later. Love.
