i never liked the heat.

leaning against the window, looking out at the blue sky. 'ah, how beautiful,' i thought, 'too bad that i actually don't think so.' instead i look down from fifty storeys high at the swimming pool. what would happen if i just hop out while listen to hyperballad? it's as easy as sitting down and doing nothing. diving in the water and then smashing against the bottom. what a beautiful violet it makes- the transparent blood water and the light blue artificial seabed. they will love it i'm sure.

i always hated the heat.

maybe not only the heat, but the noise, the people, the illusion of being an interesting place. i would still blame it on the heat, though. treating each other as merely tools and stepping stones to the future, only thinking about how to earn more money by either assimilating yourself with the rest of the drone population, or exploit and extract every single last drop of humanity from your slaves. master or slave, that's the only two options if you stay. humming fans, mumbling people, honking cars. and of course bad asian pop music and mind numbing dialogues emerging from the telly god.

it must have been the heat.

watching too much animal planet makes me relate myself and my behaviour to animals. snakes and other reptiles gain energy and thus aggression when they have stayed long enough in a warm environment. boom, a slight touch pierces the anger balloon- or the balloon just gets bigger and bigger if no one even cared to probe it. most animals need extensive personal space. they freak out if one does not respect it. hating to stay too close with the others (except a few people), physically or mentally, makes me relate myself more to some kind of solitary monogamous animal, rather than Homo sapiens whom are annoyingly dependent and have no respect for personal space or identity.

i really never liked the heat.
but what does it matter?