Arf arf

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Arf arf... not a word, not a word. Never a word for the sound, and never a sound for the dream. Definitions and dictionaries take place of everything and then we have omniscient Dictionaries to define the world. All-knowing codexes that contain anything and everything and are limited only by what one can imagine, thus is how theoreticians manage. They make up the impossible and go with it. Religion, number theory, computer science... it all makes perfect sense until you put it to practice, and then, suddenly, the witches do not float. The NP hard problems remain unsolved. The all-knowing dictionary of everything intentional fails to exist, and 'arf' is not a word. All that comes up is Arg. Short for Argentina, but it will have to do.

Arg. Arg. Arg!

But it is just not the same. It's never the same, the theory and the idea and the dream and the pitiful, pitiful reality. All it is is reason, but there is no reason for anything. Reason is merely an illusion we suffer, and an illusion we suffer for. No reason to arg. No reason to arf.

Bats are eating my legs.