A thought cannot be unthought.

Once you think it, it is the only thing that stays with you for all eternity.

That's a thought.

You may lose your sanity, you may lose your purpose, you may lose your life. But a thought will change you, define you in every subtle way until the day you die, and even after, through your words and actions.

Which is why every thought takes up a bit of your soul, like a cardboard box of things you can't throw out of a room. Slowly, the room fills up. Pretty soon, there isn't much space to move. You feel constrained. You feel narrow-minded. You feel lethargic.

That's a thought.

"How brilliant it would be, to see that empty room again!" you muse.

But we all know the only future is suffocation, in the grain falling through an hourglass, in the pit of bottomless quicksand. Soon, our thoughts will leave us desolate and hopeless and gasping for breath, ready and fit to die old and alone.

Our thoughts define us, but the nature of our thoughts is defined.

That's a thought.



//grab somebody sexy

Azazyl

Stench of humanity,
The rot of those fair.
Despair!
Of lost sanity and
Dreams never there.