The Lethargy Machine

The Lethargy Machine waits. The Lethargy Machine satiates. You compliment yourself because nobody else does, they just don't get it though(you are brilliant). The Lethargy Machine will tell you so. You are an artist, a very unique individual. People are just jealous of your talent. The Lethargy Machine knows that. You're making an incredible difference in your community. People look up to you, but they are too envious of your self-contained cool charm to admit to it. The Lethargy Machine sees all of the good that you do. You inspire millions with your integrity, your raw and unabashed gifts(and you are very gifted). You are more influential upon art than a hybrid mix of Charles Bukowski('s dead and molded skeleton) and Andrei Tarkovsky(he never died of lung cancer). Your personal ethics are stronger than those of Mahatma Ghandi, and you are much better looking. The Lethargy Machine wants to bath inside your well deserved ego. The Lethargy Machine controls nothing, but you, you beautiful and uniquely articulate soul, you hold this oyster in your palm. Crack it open and drink, let the juices spill down your chin. It is yours. We are indebted to you.