Ed was at the end of his rope, an expression he detested. "There is no rope!" he would scream at the laughing walls. "There is only the end. No hope, No rope. Ending is better than mending. Doors of perception, winodws of opportunity- these are illusinos, like the killing floor." Ed spoke in a squeaky whiny voice with perhaps a slight tinge of glee, but this was only because he couldnt be bothered to develop a manner of speaking that truly reflected his mood. "This is a vacuum. There is no air in this room. Despair is no fun anymore. Nihilism knocked three times on the ceiling, but the rosy fingers of dawn always insterted themselves in the nose of unfulfilled promises. Angels sang Heysanna Hosanna. Paralyzed prima-donnas danced in the streets all day, but when the darkness came, everybody went home. I was ready- everyone else was asleep. And while it may have been a relief to see that I was right all along, here I am still: alone and trapped, awaiting the endless end.
"And I can turn it all around, and laugh at it and laugh at myself; I can laugh louder than the walls, the halls, the waterfalls, louder than Charles de Gaul or Fulton Mall, but I dont know what I'm laughing at. I dont know just what I think is so goddman funny. I dont know why I dont just shut up and give up and lay down and die. What do I have to complain about anyway," Ed asked his Picasso, "I'm a millionaire!"! This wasn't actually true. Ed's picasso was an obvious forgery, his three Rothkos had just been singled out in an article in ARTFORUM entitled "The three most insignificant paintings of Mark Rothko," and his Barbara Kruegers had been irreparably damaged by Rein Sanction and a few other bands from Gainsville that refused to acknowledge the value of art.
"Come to think of it," Ed mused to the laminated roadkill coffee table that he had purchased when times had seem slightly less bleak, "Come to think of it, not only does art have no intrinsic value, but my collection has no extrinsic value either. I know I'm not a millionaire, but thats no reason to complain. There is no reason to complain. There is no reason to
