Name: Anonymous 2007-08-02 16:58 ID:amwiGT8k
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You know, every time that infinitely small moment you're living passes, your chances of living go down. Think about it, it's all mathematics: You have a certain chance of living and taking certain paths or dying by certain means, you could instantaneously explode at any moment, there's a probability anything will happen even if it's extremely low. In the next moment of your life, someone may fall from the sky out of God knows where and land in your living room with $3,000,000,000 in their pockets as well as some food stamps. There's a chance anything could happen, and everything does happen.
I heard a ring-my doorbell-and paused the music blasting in my ears, set aside my dinner, went through the ritual of moving books around to get to the door. Books I haven't read in years, books I can barely read, books half burnt in fires, books that are against the reading of books, books about God, Lucifer, the Earth in between. Books about-I need to answer the door.
I wasn't expecting him. He, in this case, is a man, tall, white, blonde hair, dressed like he robbed a punk laundromat. He entered my home and sat down on a copy of Lolita, at which point I nearly stabbed him as that was, by a good width margin, the best book I have ever read. He got the idea and found a seat.
You know, every time that infinitely small moment you're living passes, your chances of living go down. Think about it, it's all mathematics: You have a certain chance of living and taking certain paths or dying by certain means, you could instantaneously explode at any moment, there's a probability anything will happen even if it's extremely low. In the next moment of your life, someone may fall from the sky out of God knows where and land in your living room with $3,000,000,000 in their pockets as well as some food stamps. There's a chance anything could happen, and everything does happen.
I heard a ring-my doorbell-and paused the music blasting in my ears, set aside my dinner, went through the ritual of moving books around to get to the door. Books I haven't read in years, books I can barely read, books half burnt in fires, books that are against the reading of books, books about God, Lucifer, the Earth in between. Books about-I need to answer the door.
I wasn't expecting him. He, in this case, is a man, tall, white, blonde hair, dressed like he robbed a punk laundromat. He entered my home and sat down on a copy of Lolita, at which point I nearly stabbed him as that was, by a good width margin, the best book I have ever read. He got the idea and found a seat.