free

colin thought about this before. thought it a few times, but mostly that was all it was. a thought. then it’d disappear like so many other things in, what he now described as, “his aborted, afterthought of a life”. that’s really all it ever was. no one agreed with him. there was the all-knowing, life-loving chorus of supporters and wretched self-servers that funneled into colin’s little brain compliment after undeserved compliment. a self-satisfaction the unholy choir of no-nothings that spoke to colin only as if their “kind” words earned them some small, little accolade that they would later, hopefully collect in what, colin assumed, was their sad idea of an afterlife. afterbirth. really it was all the same. the only person that saw it the same way colin did, or at least found his notion of the matter somewhat entertaining enough to humor him, was simon. simon had been around long enough, around this world mind you, not colin, that he possessed the same shit-sniffing, “fraudulaic” (simon’s word, not colin’s. he always had the capacity for creative expression though being around simon he never really had the need to use it) power that allowed the two of them to hone in on those other pathetic excuses for “rational thought” and single them out for the phonies they truly were. “excise them from the world, the whole lot of ‘em!” he’d often say, or something to the same effect. with simon you could always count on his mettle, even if he showed it in a different manner every time.