"They are loaded—the clock strikes twelve. I say amen. Charlotte, Charlotte! farewell, farewell!"
-The Sorrows of Young Werther
by J.W. von Goethe
The End? Poor Werther had somehow been connected to The Unknowable. Stumbled upon Just when he thought his path had been written and played out...a reincarnation. He had always owed his being to a collection of words, he was in fact a fictional character. Goethe had attempted to kill of Young Werther as a sort of sacrifice but more like a replacement for his own suicide. But Werther for all his sense and suffering now finds himself in a new structure. He senses a great deal of freedom to wander in this vale of Infictive.
His Shattering Fragments caught up in some sort of whirlwind.
Werther sat alone in the small room. A radio droned in the background along with the sound of the stove fan. A plate with a bite of cheeseburger sits to the side. He adjusted himself in his chair, 240 degrees west, he sat facing a screen.
Married to the game.
"I'm alive again, more alive than I have been in my whole entire life I can see these people's ears perk up as I begin To spaz with the pen, I'm a little bit sicker than most, shit's fixin' to get thick again They say the competition is stiff, but I get a hard dick from this shit, now I stick it in
I ain't never giving in again, caution to the wind, complete freedom Look at these rappers, how I treat them, so why the fuck would I join them when I beat them?"
-Eminem : No Love
Death and Taxes.
Department of the Treasury Internal Revenue Service Ogden, UT 84201-0012