Hot, stagnant and rancid-milk thoughts spill ignorantly from their brain-buckets, trespassing in my space, a raging river of raving idiots all tangled in each others' limbs. It's a mental picture even the blind couldn't miss, should they ever happen upon this panoramic horrorscape by some cruelty of fate.
I try not to hate this mob, and I fail - but with enthusiasm. My role, my function, my job is to squeeze every last fetid drop of curd from its little toy actors, then return them with painted-on smiles to their meaningless lives of tedium and superficiality. Even their delusions are uninspired, tainting me as they do with the stench of wasted thought. I would rather die a thousand torturous deaths than live a single one of their lives, and being drowned in the minutiae of their dramas, day after day, year after year, does wonders for provoking such satisfyingly-morbid manifestations of my own dark dreams.
Ahh, if I could press a button and eradicate them all, down to the very last one, I would. I would press it and never release it, filling its sacred socket with my determined digit, satisfying my desires as if those of a lover. If only I had such a button...
— And there, suddenly, a break in this cloud of human flesh: a brilliant beam of life, emitted from the last vestigial reserve of cerebral heaven within my vast hell. The Earth upsets itself beautifully, and I hear it plainly: a sound I'd long forgotten, an idea I'd perhaps only ever imagined...
As if that terrible switch was flipped off somewhere behind the cosmic gate of insanity, my reality reshapes itself, taking once more its place at the helm of my mindship, changing course just slightly - first port, then starboard and finally starward, away from that maw of oblivion which lurks ever-patiently in the shadow of every tomorrow, gnashing its teeth at me hungrily.
And then, suddenly, the curdled folk became not quite so smelly as they once were.
... What button?
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