In filestube, somebody googled (filetubed) kyrie eleison. I like to think it was the despairful cry of someone with no-one else to whom to turn, and not just someone looking for christmas music.

I am lonely. Lone-leeeeeeeeee. The word glides off the tongue when it should stick like a cock in the wheels of a bike. The three words, those three words of the English language; fuck the others for whom other three words are the pertinent ones, fuck them in their stinking asses. These are the three, threnodic, galling, abalienating, their to-be-spokenness exuding, an essential property, one I possess in every possible world.

Lonely; and never not lonely. And a disastrous attempt not to be; hope at start of year in PH, whom my lack of preference for whom chased away, from that yclept MC, founder of this blog, who never liked me. But not that: that no one's. Ever liked me. Nor, perhaps, ever will. Possibilities there are not. Just the gut shot of a persevering loneliness, et nunc, et in perpetuum. And would not a graceful God just simply be buggered looking down, at the meal for one industry?

לֹא-טוֹב הֱיוֹת הָאָדָם לְבַדּוֹ

the ipsissima verba.

Can GOD exist, and I alone? Is it possible that I can be so fucking twattish? Can GOD exist, tho life exists? But still: I need to hope, to God, to eutuche, to karma, to the weltgeist, I need to hope to. Give me a chance, send something my way and I won't make you disappointed again. Sad.