Welcome to the most embarrassing plague to ever inflict the universe with its sustained existence.
Welcome to the world.
Yes, welcome to the entire fucking world.
So, this is it?
This is the extent to which success is measured so meticulously?
g_D, it’s a good thing I know everything about everything already.
I’d be so fucking confused right now if I didn’t.
Am I even old enough for that?
Welcome to separation (read as “independence.”)
Sometimes C-A-T actually does spell “antidisestablishablahblahblah.”
Welcome to self-expression!
g_D, your (sic) so fucking deep!
Your (sicoafhfe (“said in context once again for heavy fucking emphasis”)) so fucking possessive!
U fucking pwn me!
U pwn my fucking soul!
.
Yup.
.
Totally.
.
Why fucking bother?
You should go lay down somewhere soft and fuck yourself.
Hard.
And smile.
I promise.
You’d enjoy it (and understand it) much, much, much, much, much, much, much, much, much, much more.
(: ?Ygolohcysp
Welcome to a waste of your precious fucking time.
Welcome to a billion (read as “1,000,000,000″) other things you could be doing right fucking now.
Who has any time for introspection when there’s so much money to be made?
Who has any time for creative expression or communication when there are so many magnificent, colorful distractions in which to so thoroughly, mindlessly, absolutely indulge oneself?
Time is money, motherfucker!
Opportunity is bashing in your motherfucking head with a g_Ddamn sledgehammer.
Welcome to bullshit that you call poetry.
Welcome to poetry that you call bullshit.
Welcome to words that aren’t stupid fucking poetry.
Welcome to progress with a frown.
Welcome to misunderstanding.
Stop right where you are and give up.
Don’t search for me.
No one fucking lives beyond these words.
Welcome to words that don’t affect you at all.
Welcome to words that you read over and over and
overandfuckingoveragainthatmakesyouwanttofuckingdestroysomethingorsomeonebutthatjustfrustratesyouevenfurtherbecauseyouretoomuchofamaterialisticfuckingneatfreaktoactuallydestroyanythingoranyone. Tyler would be fucking ashamed.
Welcome to yet another mental enema.
So fucking cathartic.
Get your cup, girls.
My dearest digital trash aliens.
You must be starving/thirsty.
Welcome to reality.
Fuck it.
Hard.
Somewhere soft.
Smile.
May I rape you sweetly now, sweetest of hearts?
As if you weren’t already begging for it.
You did have on a tight bathrobe.
*snicker snicker*
Welcome to flesh.
Watch it fucking wither.
Watch it.
Watch it.
Watch it.
Watch it.?.
Watch your youth die before your vacant fucking eyes.
Smile.
Give us your soul (read as “money”).
We’ll make it all go away.
Welcome to beauty.
Don’t let it die!
.
!
.
Oops…
Ew.
Fat people are such wonderful self-mockeries!
Watching ugly people fall in love is so hilarious.
They’re so adorable!
Marketable, too.
Welcome to something that won’t make you one cent richer.
*gasp*
Sharing is caring.
Kiss me, sweetie baby dearies.
Guess where?
Go ahead and steal everything.
Make copies of copies of copies.
None of this fucking bullshit belongs to anyone.
And one day, it will all be fucking gone.
Forever.
So fuck it.
Really hard.
Somewhere soft.
And don’t forget to smile…
Welcome to a secret never told.
Welcome to a soul.
Yadda-yadda-fucking-yadda.
Not worth sharing.
Not worth caring.
Not even out of spite.
Welcome to sentences you wish were about you.
Am I telling the truth?
Or can you only trust the voices in your fucking head?
Welcome to a sentence you’re not reading that doesn’t mean a fucking thing.
Welcome to a verbal vomit kaleidoscope.
Open wide and shriek,
“AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
Sure is difficult to scream with your throat cut.
Isn’t it, emo boy?
g_D, you bleed so fucking beautifully.
Not even your precious fucking g_D could keep me from viciously raping that gaping wound.
One razor + one neck = instant fuckhole!
Yay!
Ya see? I can say plenty of things I don’t really mean, too!
Welcome to religion.
I’m going to slap you in your filthy fucking mouth, you whore.
Deigning, gracing faces of faceless, faggot deities with sophic saliva.
With cookie-thief smirks and piss feathers peek sneaking.
Venerating shit-stained, paper baby saviors for melodious money lollies.
I can almost smell them now.
Choke, you fucks.
“And g_D said unto man,
‘As your souls fester within your pitiful flesh,
so shall they be plagued by your pathetic humanity.
And I shall spit upon you with great joy
while proclaiming my boundless love for all of you.’”
En-fucking-JOY TO THE WORLD!
THE LORD HAS CUM!
Open wide, kiddies!
Gargle and try to sing, “Jesus loves me; this I know!”
Remember, Timmy: this is our little secret…
I apologize for not wiping the blood and shit from my cock, first.
I know it probably tasted a little yucky around the end.
I know the smell was.
Forgive me, Father, for I have raped a child!
Will you autograph my epitaph?
…
So, this is your salvation?
Is this really what you believe in?
This is what you call, “peace of mind?”
This is what injects purpose into your empty, lazy fucking life?
Fuck your g_D and all his/her/its ineptitude.
Don’t worry, sweetie baby deary.
I’d never call you a pathetic fucking idiot to your face.
(Greeting card.)
Welcome to digression.
Disconnect.
The connections are false truths.
The false truths are honest lies.
(Billboard.)
Smiles masticating fascist façades.
(Sitcom.)
Do not worry.
All states of connectivity are illusions of varying perceptions.
We are all fundamentally (dis)croensnpected.
Ever so pleasantly dejected.
Resign yourself to the halcyon maelstrom called the true world,
because now the burning clouds smell of kerosene and taste like China White.
(Hit single.)
Like bitter bleach drip-drip-dripping through mucus streams.
Cabernet DNA helices spiraling through every water body as we pronounce ourselves anything and everything we fucking want to be forever.
Fuck time.
You still own the air.
It’s still not fair…
Desperate, panting, weeping, pissing beauty the hostage.
“(I’m)Purity. Nice to meet you.”
Exhilarating the undead.
Red pill. Blue pill. Purple pill.
Fucked and loved. In love and FUBAR.
Without a sense of urgency, desire loses its value.
(T-shirt.)
Welcome to procreation.
Are you ready to populate (read as “pollute”)?
Take my hand and prepare to breed.
Remove your pantaloons and undergarments.
Insert your penis into my vagina.
Hurry up and stick it in.
Now retract it.
Keep it up until you ejaculate.
DON’T YOU FUCKING LOOK AT ME!!
…(omission, omission, omission) Complete.
Thank you.
Now it’s dark
Now get off of me.
Go away.
Oh, and feel free to die, too.
Feel really, really fucking free to die.
Welcome to something clever.
Fuck you, too.
Welcome to parenthood.
Did you enjoy producing your little production unit?
Isn’t human life such a miracle?
So fucking sacred?
“Pop!” goes the miracle!
THUNK!
THUNK!
THUNK!
THUNK!
Whoooaaaa! Way too many miracles!
Why are there so many miracles?!
Hey, g_D, at what point do miracles become viruses?
Oh, yes, it’s a wonderful life.
Welcome to life (read as “survival,” or “existence”) in America.
Go ahead and shove that golden, capitalistic cock up our asses.
Aren’t we sexy?
Fill us with your shimmering, hot diamond jizz.
Wipe us down with the death shrouds of your puppet leaders.
Legal fucking tender as rape rags.
Oh come ooooonnnn.
Wah wah wah.
Boo fucking hoo.
Is it really so bad being force-fed glass shards and feces for 50-60 years?
You’d better stop vomiting!
You’ll never graduate high school!
You’ll never go to college!
You’ll never get a good job!
You’ll never get a car or a house!
You’ll never get married!
You’ll never retire!
You’ll never spend the rest of your miserable fucking existence paying back the debt you owe!
The very fact that you continue to exist is a debt you owe to someone you’ll probably never meet.
And don’t you worry about a thing if you die.
The debt will be shoveled upon those humans who were unfortunate enough to be related to you.
Even dying is too fucking expensive.
Welcome to nations united!
Totally, maaaan!
…
Fuck every single one of you and especially the skeet rag flags in which you blanket yourselves.
Sex…
Violence…
Sex.
Violence.
Sex!
Violence!
Say it with me, kids!
And lick your luscious little lips…
Colon + right parenthesis.
Welcome to love.
.
?!
.
Haha.
Did you come to play or be played?
Are you good enough?
Are you perfect?
You’d better be.
Remember, you did something to deserve this.
Do NOT ask to be reminded.
Do NOT simply communicate openly and honestly.
Words do NOT simply mean what their dictionary definitions claim.
At least, not after the first few months.
Don’t do it too soon.
Don’t be too late.
It’s all about the mind games, baby!
Oh, and never be desperate.
Never be fucking emo.
Or else…
You’ve been warned.
You’ve been warned.
You’ve been fucking warned.
Welcome to the most intimate moment imaginable between two steaming, festering piles of humanity.
Was it good for you, too?
Mmm.
Your lies are so fucking delicious.
Can we pretend to tolerate each other foreeeeever?
Remember when I welcomed you to reality?
Are you still fucking it?
Are you still smiling?
Good. Great. Grand. Wonderful.
Welcome to California (read as “Los Angeles”).
Welcome to the hideous scab on the festering corpse of hope.
Welcome to the meat grinder.
Mmmm… I love your pretty pink hookhole.
I wanna fuck it so fucking hard…
You’d better be on fucking birth control. I’ll strangle you, cunt.
Roll your eyes (if you still have them).
Cough up your heart and lungs as if they were actually functional at some point.
Give me your fucking wallet first.
g_D, the cell bars feel so cool on my (facial) cheeks.
They’re such a delightful contrast to the searing pain of your salt-covered cock being crammed up my infant-tight asshole.
Like sleeping on pillows of plastic-wrapped flesh at the fluorescent supermarket.
Vomiting dollar salads for purest purist shit fuel.
Even despair dies here.
Rape me slowly,
rape me gently,
if you please.
A world in pieces is a world at peace.
(Climax.)
Slowly smiling.
Welcome to money (read as “paper”).
Do you have enough digits in your bank account to justify sustaining your existence?
How is your fucking credit rating?
Have you ever considered suicide as a form of economic relief?
We are in a recession.
Has the fear of financial strain on your loved ones ever been the only thing left that kept you alive?
You’d love to drive the car into a million different “accidents,” but you don’t want to risk ruining the car.
You don’t want to be another fucking bill.
But too fucking bad.
You’re still only another fucking bill even when you’re fucking dead.
Deal with it, emo kid.
Welcome to sweet fucking nothings.
I love you, sweetheart.
And I love you too, sweetheart.
I love him too, because he’s a sweetheart.
And I love her too, because she’s a sweetheart.
I love you all with all my heart, but I definitely wouldn’t trust you enough to rape and impregnate me twice.
One screaming, weeping, bleedingabortion is quite enough, thank you.
I would never hurt you like they did.
You don’t deserve that.
…
I’m going to rip your fucking tongue out and slap you with it.
Ya know that nagging sense of impending doom?
It’s your world getting smaller and smaller,and smallerand smaller…
It’s your own bullshit running after you.
And it’s starting to catch up.
Are you worth remembering at all?
Even for a little while?
Welcome to the truth.
Welcome to lies.
Welcome to the truth wrapped in lies.
Welcome to lies wrapped in the truth.
Welcome to .?. and .!.
Welcome to freedom.
Would you even know what to do with any of it?
Look. Listen.
Standing upon that plateau, wistfully gazing across the plain,
most of you would run screaming to absolute domination…
Welcome to a wholly sincere apology.
Welcome to a whole fucking pile of them.
Are those crocodile tears I hear?
It’s not you. It never will be you.
It’s me. It always will be me.
Does my ass look fat in this excuse?
Welcome to somewhere you don’t belong.
Welcome to somewhere you’ll never be, though it’s somewhere you’d kill to be.
Welcome to pathetic apathy.
Accept it or give up, baby.
C’est la fucking vie.
Welcome to instability (read as “pure fucking chaos”).
Enjoy the melody.
Welcome to yet another intoxicant (read as “mind expansion”).
Welcome to yet another drink.
Welcome to your third nostril AND your third eye.
You’re so fucking profound.
Welcome to another fucking needle in your vein.
Welcome to denial.
Definitely not a fucking river.
Enjoy your stay.
Welcome to an empty wallet and an even emptier fucking soul (if that’s even remotely fathomable).
Keep on running.
Keep on running.
Keep on fucking running.
I promise; salvation is somewhere at the bottom of that glass.
Somewhere at the end of that syringe.
Somewhere in the smoke.
Somewhere in the flame.
Vacantly calling your name.
Your favorite hallucination.
“If only you were covered in Bourbon…”
Welcome to frigid fucking silence.
Frigid.
.
Fucking.
?!
Silence.
.
Welcome to some more of it.
And some more.
And some more.
And some more.
Wrap yourself up in it.
Fuck yourself with it.
Hard.
Somewhere soft.
Smile.
Welcome to promisespromisespromisesbrokenfixedbrokenfixedbrokenfixed.?.
Are those crocodile tears I hear?
Welcome to yet another fucking endless minute.
Welcome to yet another 4 AM.
Alone.
Welcome to bleeding fucking eyes.
Welcome to yet another smile.
Welcome to a ceaselessly impending anxious breakdown.
Welcome to despondent wishes for some sort of guilt-free injury or death.
Show all the Helen Kellers what they left behind.
As if they ever cared.
Here.
Have a flower.
Have a balloon.
Have a sunset.
Have another beautiful distraction.
Get back to work.
Welcome to the opposite side of everything you love and trust.
The purest positive negativity.
Hold your breath.
See if any of us care.
Haha.
Let the noose tenderly caress you like no lover ever did nor will ever have a chance to again.
So beautiful.
So fuckable.
Such potential.
Too fucking late.
You don’t deserve that shit!
You deserve a woman who’ll treat you the way you deserve to be treated!
Not me, though… I can’t deal with you; you genius, you.
Besides, you deserve better than me, too.
I’m just saying.
Yeah.
You truly deserve a round of applause.
Around and around and around!?!
Your test results are in…
Welcome to insecurity
Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Am I worthy of you even a little bit?
Even at all?
“There’s always a chance with tits like yours.”
There’s always a chance.
Always.
Always.
Always.
Always.
Always.
YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYours. Truly.
Yeah.
Right.
For(n)ever starts tonight…
I can’t wait to hear your excuse.
I’m sure it’ll be adorable.
I’m sure it’ll be creative.
I’m absolutely certain it’ll be fucking clever.
Give it to me, baby.
Keep it up.
May I have another?
Welcome to pain.
Make it sexy or shut the fuck up.
Such young, tender meat.
Such a great fucking injustice.
Ugly people deserve it, though.
That is, unless there’s money to be made.
Toss some change at ‘em.
It’s the least you can do.
(Slow-againSlow-againSlow-again).
Welcome to disappointment.
Make yourself at home.
Kick off your shoes, get naked and kill yourself.
Slowly.
Watch yourself bleed out.
Smile.
Make sure your money’s got a good home.
Honestly though, who has any time?
Time is money.
Time is fuck.
Time is production.
Time is the excruciatingly slow death of absolutely every living thing.
Life is so fucking precious.
So “natural.”
Enjoy yourself while it lasts.
Yeah.
Right.
You fucking selfish coward.
How dare you stop suffering?!
Is it really that bad?
Is your life really that fucking bad?
Do you know how many people are starving around the world?
Fucking emo kid.
What a fucking failure.
Welcome to sleep from which you’ll never fucking wake.
Good night and good luck.
Go towards the light!
Go and find your fucking g_D!
If ya find more than one, go towards the one with the bigger dick!
On your knees, bitch!
Open wide!
Pitiful little human.
Welcome to surviving through your life with an excruciatingly feigned sense of purpose.
And lots and lots and lots of smiles.
Hope you enjoyed the fucking ride.
The End.
Welcome to death.
Wow! What a wonderful fucking life you lived!
You achieved so many remarkable things!
I’ll bet all those precious piles of humanity will remember you well forever and everand everand…
You should consider the possibility that your soul mate is already fucking dead.
Slain by their own hand in a fit of neurotic, despondent frustration.
Trying to find you…
Siring sextillions from sausageapple cribs to mud carpet graves.
This is what it means to belong.
Swiftly perishing in the same beautiful puddle.
Shrieking for salvation from their lorD.
The opacity in mine pierces the diaphanous lies in yours.
I eagerly locate the X and… without a sound, they’re gone again.
You’re gone again.
Do you even realize that all of your words are still true?
That they’ll always be true?
They’ve evolved beyond the fickle wind into which they were whispered.
Beyond the now deafened ears they once fell upon.
Your adulation will be ceaseless barring the ball shoved back between your fucking teeth.
Its purest home.
You will ♥ me forever.
One 5th (or 7th, hehe) eye must behold and possess.
This is the unconditionality spoken of; yearned for but rarely attained.
Self-incarcerated prisoners devising further Daedalian constructs of bondage and domination.
Galloping gleefully into obsolescence.
Grinning that toothy, piss mordant grin.
I greatly enjoy extracting pulsating pieces of myself and meticulously analyzing them for flaws.
Am I lovable yet?
Do I exist in your world yet?
Don’t you know?
That’d be the supreme fucking validation.
I ♥ you enough to protect us both from each other.
I ♥ you so much that I’m willing to wrap my throbbing dick in strangling latex just for the privilege of sticking it in your celestial cunt.
Dearest, when you beg me to fuck the shit out of you like the worthless little slut you are, I think of how much I ♥ you and it brings a tear to my eye.
It’s so amusing to think of the money you waste on makeup and clothes.
Trying to be beautiful for a grunting ape, when the most beautiful you ever were was stripped bare; face coated in fresh jism.
I speak in past tense because, frankly, it’s all downhill from that first time.
Hey, I just took a shit and I’d swear I saw your face in it!
You even disappoint me in my most vivid, salacious fantasies.
Isn’t that sad?
We can still be friends though, right?
I’d really love to cry on each others’ shoulders sometime.
Commiserate over the world and life in general as if we ever knew anything about either.
The fact that we’re here, there, every-fucking-where for each other is just so goddamn special.
It makes the whole world so much more bearable.
It brings MEANING to my paltry existence.
Can you do me a huge favor?
Can you share your deepest, darkest secrets with me?
I swear, you fascinate me so much more than I could ever fascinate myself.
I wanna know all about you because I bore myself stiff as a frozen toddler.
I promise, I won’t tell a soul worth telling.
Don’t worry!I care!I appreciate you for the unique snowflake you are!
I’ll cherish you forever and a day!
Don’t go thinking just because I don’t call for weeks, months or years that I don’t care about you.
Life’s just been reeeeeeal crazy lately.
I could elaborate, but I’m sure you know that’s just an extremely pathetic and tired excuse.
Hey, wanna fuck again sometime?
Don’t you worry about a thing, sweetie baby deary.
I have my perceptions to keep me cold at night.
Isn’t it such a fucking shame?
I’m just so goddamn close to being perfect.
The flaws are simply far too fluorescent.
How does it feel knowing you came close to caring for anything less than an Olympian archetype of masculinity?
You should be fucking ashamed.
Spread your legs wide; I’ll fetch the needles.
Would you rather plant (red) roses (rotting) in death valleys?
Let’s make our lives spick-and-span paradigms of desperation!
We know what life is aaaalllll about.
Photographing absolutely anything and everything.
Painting our faces and smearing them with ♥’s bitter liqueur.
We’ll never be worthy of one another.
We like it just.like.that.
We don’t trust anyone enough to fuck them twice.
We’re so divine; we’ll never confess.
We’re so symbiotically independent.
Aren’t we versatile?
We’d cry, but we’d coalesce.
With crocodile smiles welded on mediocre mouths,
we ®Evol(t? hahaha)ve back and forth through rings and spirals of stultifying, lascivious idiocy and vanity.
Why would any of you be so insane to attempt establishing sanity in me?
Like shoving a democratic cock in toddler-tight, African and Middle-Eastern shit chutes.
Aren’t I so much better this way?
I’m so much lovelier ♥less.
Wouldn’t you prefer me transmitting some rare, incurable illness to you?
Then we’d putresce together in snazzy fucking shaaaades!
AIDS put us in the best shape of our lives!
We’ll watch the world’s incessant warring between apocalypse and evolutionary endurance.
We’ll laugh as they invent and innovate themselves into absolute fucking abject obsolescence.
You want something to brag about?
Fine, but first let me use this belt sander to smooth out our facial wrinkles.
Let’s fuck with our thumbs!
Oh, baby, I didn’t mean txt sex.
Although that’s fucking spectacular, too.
Wistfully describing all the filthy things we’d do to each other if either of us ever actually gave enough of a shit to put down the phones and go fucking do it.
No, I was thinking we’d make a few new orifices.
Lemme give ya a kiss, bitch.
I wanna be a loving, soaking PSYCHO; loathing –logy.
This is something that never belonged to either of us.
“Hovering hypnotically through stygian channels.
Aurora on hold; our own nowhere, doing nothing.
So far yet so close; such lunacy entices.
Cautiously selecting words I do not need.
Swaying in black light, a glance tells all.
Or simply enough for now.
All in good time.”
.Staorht gnidnapxe gnikcuf yldipar now ruo nwod evohs ELPOEP EHT ,EW taht ecnanetsus rof sesucxe gnitsugsid eht gnikooc ,nehctik eht ni elpoep deen syawla snoitaroproc doof-tsaf esoppus I
.Taht ot desu er’uoy erus m’I ;krad ecalpemos
!Ti tog ev’I!Tiaw
!Reredrum a emoceb
!Ylsuoenatlumis noissergga tnetal ruoy tuo ekat DNA tenalp siht gnilgnarts s’taht noitalupop eht tuo niht nac uoy ,yaw taht
What a deal, eh?
Just study your craft well so you won’t get caught.
I know, you might say, “I could never do that!”
“I could never take an innocent victim’s life!”
As George says, “There are no innocent victims.If you live on this planet, you’re guilty. Fuck you; end of story.”
Or, you might say, “What difference could just one murderer make?”
That’s why you need organization.
Form an ambiguously innocently-named underground network: CUP (Coalition of Ugly People).
Just imagine the possibilities if you all started striking simultaneously!
Near anarchy would ensue if you had adequate numbers!
You could help flush this miserable “melting pot” down the fucking drain!
Oh, and make sure you if any of you are caught that you do NOT let anyone know you listen to ANY music, watch ANY movies, read ANY books, etc.
Don’t ruin those things for the rest.
*shrugs*I dunno.
Just a thought.
(Disclaimer:To all you fucking idiots out there, don’t actually do anything I just talked about.No matter how bluntly or in whatever plain terms I speak, literalism is rarely ever appropriate.If you want literalism, go join P. Robertson and his fundamentalist fuckheads.I’m sure they’d welcome yet another cog in their well-oiled, fascist, hypnosis machine.)
I ate shit through a psychotic grin all the way down.
Expecting nothing, as usual.
Receiving just barely enough for an evening, as usual.
You evicted me from my mind by suffocating it in your sultry stink.
Thanks for a pantload of nothing, you white slave.
Godai.
The roseserpent slides silently across your name like an assassin with Tourette’s.
Crossing tack-threaded spider wire over inverted skyscrapers.
Nice brain!Way to go!
Now that we’re sufficiently obliterated, guide me to the bathroom.
Or the bedroom; that works too.
*knock knock*
Uh oh, I think the freshly circumcised ape dick is upset.
*pound pound*
.Dnuora noitome tnasaelpnu emos worht thgim eh kniht I ,ho hu
.Yddub ,efil ruoy fo ♥ eht dekcuf I yrros!Spoo
.Sah ehs tnuc suoiciled a tahw uoy llet ot deen t’nod I esoppus I
You’re exceptions to all rules except the already shattered ones.
An inhibition stalker.
A gay, child-raping, murderous nigger with a full bladder and America’s grin before you like a prurient, fawning baby doxy.
The floor tastes somewhat like submission and shame.
Thanks for asking!
If they ever make murder legal, the first thing I’m doing is buying a blumpkin.
How ‘bout you?
Do I look strange with Alice’s glistening anus protruding from the looking glass stapled to my scalp?
She told me she ♥s it in the neck stump.
Is that fecal jizz dripping from that zombie’s lips?
FUCK!
Put the gun right in my mouth… haha.
My fear of everything is making me a bouncing bullet in your fiery arm.
Owwie… being a quadriplegic hurts.
Did I happen to mention I named my balls Loki and Asmodeus?
My clone’s lookin’ a lil’ green under the gills, sir.
Can Paris Hilton predict the future?
Gah!What peculiar divinity!
Wait, that’s even stranger than those people creature things!
Dear Mr. Horseplan,
I wouldn’t have found the smallest fraction of myself in this Earthen mess without your brilliance.
Thank you for every time you quietly allowed me to step over the line at a certain time.
Thank you for being a friend; not just an ebony rubber-coated idol.
I love ya like Yin Loves Yang.
There is an absence of paranoia, and an ignition of anxiety to catalyze an onset of destructive hallucinations, bursting into thread, and plastering the walls with an Artbrush like Slap-to-Canvas.
People should just stick to methamphetadreams. Grab crayons, I’m colored impressed with you.
I didn’t know that beautiful things were sculpted so beautiful on the outside too. Equilibrium seems a fallacy though…looking and listening at you would throw me off-balance.
I prefer it that way…feet askew, and anticipation eating at breath.
Everyone is like me…in that I like you.
mannequin, test man of kin, of skin, of the sin of time told tale fold.
It’s the flesh that feels forever like leather and lust less the lace of the face once faceless faced, grace the feeling of finger tip touch… You’re comforted, and by comforting, much…more than the age or the time, or a silly spread rhyme. Settle in, look around, though I must say what I’ve found is that with every touch of the twine, you’ve scratched something of mine…or aren’t those green eyes in a faceless reprise.
Touch, taste, dance…words turn, lean and burn…and eyes light perchance.
Rust raises no one, razes all sun…rusted just like me.
and sometimes, it’s perfect…
“…my god, the shadows.”
You’re razor wire for a night turned weak strong meek wrong bleak song…and I’d cry if I hadn’t given it up ages ago for anger and this ♥. What perfection holds words scarred from lashes and lashes from eyes and I and dye and die. Watch your fingers when you touch the face, while we commune while we disgrace…the skin falls away so fast…though I’m amazed at the moment…if amazement really lasts.
I want to reach out with a tongue-rusted-razor-wrapped-in-velvet-dipped-in-glycerin just to taste the fear for a moment…the strength for an hour…the gasp for a day. Do you own mirrors? Do they look like you, or are they ugly just like mine…or do they see..shine sublime, not divine, not of time and age, or false sage…just with a finely rounded chin, and the slightest hint of conspiratorial grin…and the truth of that face.
A living desire…a beautiful disgrace.
I want to watch you dance…I prefer to dance with you…but truth be told, I’d light the film afire…breathe the fumes. Your name…funny how I’ll say it someday…without syntax, rolling off a bitter tongue.
What makes you? How is there some Benzedrine dream pushed down somewhere in the world? You’re concrete and cold kissed…the rebar is the impressive part you know..the strength that will never let the cracks be more than faschia.
I want, like rain on bitten lips…and what a thought you are, filthy in a clean mind, the scent of rain on dirty streets. Trains aren’t meant for niceties, vapid moments of streamless vomit, the air rank with the stench of self-importance. You’re more fit to sit in the smoking car, watching the wisps make pictures.
I have carefully crafted a shard of Stiff, spoiled earth into a duct.
watch me mount the tool.
Hi.. you’re my muse, and an amazing want…thanks for these moments that you really haven’t even participated in.
Thank you for you…scarred, frail, biting, real, strong, alone.
I hope someday I find myself in the embrace of a relationship with someone as interesting, and beautiful as yourself. There are people out there that bond between two extreme polarities, and then those that link because of abnormality.
It would be fitting to fall between an equilibrium of sorts, and continue a-new with a significant other.
There is no one like you.
Any of you faceless bitches care to attempt topping that?
…Didn’t think so.
Fucking geography.
I, too, hope one day to battle each other like the Romans we aren’t, conquer the world and have a tea party.
You make me want to believe in g_D so I don’t feel foolish when you make me scream iTs name.
Let us marinate in opulent filth, glorious moll.
I’ll meet you where the wild things sweat their fucking balls off.
We’ll finally collectively kick geography in the cunt.
I won’t come home to you fucking the neighbor, my sister, my brother, our children, etc.
We won’t have to work ourselves cancerous and limbless for hideously rebellious progeny and a society that couldn’t possibly care less about us as individual beings with souls rather than as taxpayers.
We won’t eventually end up hating each other due to the wretched stagnation of our communication or sexuality.
We won’t shamefully descend into old age; decaying alive before each others’ indifferent eyes.
Granted, we’ll have to resign the great potential pleasure of watching the world flush itself down the toilet it, itself has become.
But really, how much better could life ever get than this; here in this amazing moment?
Let’s just call it a life, my love.
♥
What does it mean to be alive in this swirling mess of everything and nothing?
Where are we going?
What are we doing?
Who are we and why?
What do we want from each other?
I don’t fucking understand any of you… things.
Sometimes it amuses me.
Mostly it just disappoints me.
So, I don’t try.
Which is a truth wrapped up in a lie.
Consider this my resignation.
I quit.
This has been a work of [non?]fiction.
Any similarities to any persons existing, dead (or soon to be), or undead (or soon to be) might bepurely coincidental (but might not be).