Depravity

Depravity. The steady slide  .The slow, uneven growth growth of stubble, the tangled  clumps of hair , some of it falling in patches, the greasy attire, the squalor of your space. The coarseness of voice, of speech ; the freedom and scope for brutal honesty that it offers. The mind numbing boredom of having nothing, being nothing, with nothing to look forward to, nothing to desire. The dimming of your intellect, the dull aching sense of being, the yearning for escape. The desire to seek oblivion. The scorn for the people around you, the bitterness their presence entails. Their sly whispers and their mockery, the derision and ridicule. The lack of food, the reluctant scavenging. The shedding of your last remnant bits of ego . Scavenging. Existing. Eking out a living, struggling on for you know not what. The atrophy of muscles, the  protruding ribs.The tattered clothing, the smell of piss and shit. Human, sub human, worse till the mongrel looks better in comparison. The exorcism of the zeitgeist, the rejection of contemporaries. Of country, family, kith and kin. Of name identity and the other million strands of existence  . Of life as defined by others . People . Utter rage and dejection. And rejection. A middle finger to their face and a jerk off for their values. The smug satisfaction of it all. The rejection of and the scorn for everything conventional. The negation of them. The allure of decadence.The freedom  of depravity.