NEEDLEWRITER

Ether said she was not a boy. She was electrifying all the cables nowdays. But it was a serious question. What was I Ether for?
Was I invented or made – or sexualy born?
Who fucked who in that situation if it was true? Then something blew?! Or what was that anyway?
Ofcourse, a sudden realisation, an impulse, an thought or emotion maybe? Can I Ether really have that at all? Must I really be the so called neutral situation of the so called – yes we may call it World – the „IT”.
Oh it sobbed, twisted it self all around the itself – no help for Ether after all – it must just stream forever more to almost infinity and maybe never reach it – „to be or not to be” was no more the question of it. It is real – it must not become aware of it self – or we the I, he, she ,we, us, they, them will perish in it’s sterility. „BYE”.