Micolus the Colossus

I posted two rather long texts regarding kettle and  reality on my BDB recently. Now, why did I do that? I also realized that I had, without being fully aware of it, posted a poem on that atrocious site as well. As I contemplated this relatively strange behaviour, I realized the reasons for my doing as I did. Although those texts were clearly made for blog purposes, I chose to post them onto a site, where I have a lot of "friends", thus deliberately advertizing what I wrote. The interesting thing is also that those, who do not come to my blog, are those who do not take the time to read anything i write (this is not whining mind you, im trying to prove a point), and thus there will be no difference in the amount of "readers" or real "views" that they get. Yet somehow I felt the need to post them on BDB just so people, those whom I do not care about, would see that I'm still active and still one o dem smart kids, writing about cynical depression. I need to be regarded as that fellow. My inner being feasts upon others looking at me with fear and respect, and with the notion that "I don't get what he's saying, so as a result, he must be smart". I want to be the outcast. And the only way to cement my position as one, is to write cynical texts and get them popular. However, this is not to say that anything that I write is untrue. But I, as a being, clearly have no tangible gains from "ventilating" on BDB rather than to gain other people's attention. And that is the very same thing that I'm doing right in this very moment...gaining attention...cementing my position as an outcast...

also, im working on a short story, three pages thus far..

adieu, and carry forth the revolution, comrades!