When will the third of the Fates snip the cord of my life? How will she do it, and where? Will I go gently, or will I scream in a panic? Will it be quick, or drawn out?
Will the snipping cut me up, leaving my blood in a splash, staining my clothes and surroundings, or will it be painless, me not knowing it happened at all?
And what of the fate of the world? will it end with a bang, or a whimper? Will the scissors snip with a piercing clack, or with an unnoticed smoothness?
All I know is that her scissors are right by the thin string. The blades surround it, and they are ready to close and cut. The string trembles in terror.
I'm merging the variety of topics I've blogged about--which include literary and film analyses, anarchism, socialism, libertarian-leaning Marxism, narcissistic abuse, and psychoanalysis--into a coherent philosophy centred on dialectical materialism, dialectical monism, and object relations theory. Now, one dialectical opposition is that between the erotic and the ascetic, so accordingly, my writing encompasses the sexual as well as the philosophical; the former can be found in my publications on the Literotica website, as well as my self-published (erotic) horror writing on Amazon.
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Infinite Ocean 