i have yet to find a quiet place with which there is no insanity.
and in the darkness of the room i abide by, the looming frog with his majesty treats me into
this abode i call home.
the force of the air can be felt through the pores of my skin.
i sit and feel the tendons of my eyes pressing against the back of my sockets.
truth be told, there is a man living inside my mind.
he is the man that told me to rewrite this story.
he is the man that i dont know how to control.
this man loves to learn of inconsistencies, his urges to fulfill the need of the many provide
little want for the few, and in return, the corporate monkeys fixate their growing wealth
on his pile of trash.
his pile of trash is my hair.
and my hair is the one that forces my mind to be awake.
maybe i should go bald.
in the back of my skull lies the one and only truly terrifying subject.
the only thing that really concerns me is what it tells me to do.
yes, i listen to its calls, and i havent quite figured out why i do it.
perhaps the deepness of its voice persuades me to listen to its demands.
my skull tells me all sorts of tragedies of man.
tragedies that i myself have experienced, and tragedies that those around me wish to
the tragedies of complete forcing filler fasting far ffafasfsadfasdgfdasdfsfad the master of
its deeds is my master, and the master of the world is the one who is evil.
god has told me once that he wants all of us to listen to me.
i hope you can understand the substrate the world resides in.
my fingers are dehydrated, and my nose is cracking.
the trembling dark hair of my beloved lay on my chest, and i sit looking at the once truly
beautiful specimen she was.
dont care, theres no time.
but the fact of the matter is that the once charming person i was, has become somewhat of
does this really come as any sort of surprise to the downtrodden?
the greyness of the sky is the same greyness i saw once i approached my new caging hotel.
ah yes, the once beautiful metro i lived in is now its grandson.
and hello hello, what a surprise, the lovely ladies of the night wish to get with me.
if i only had twenty dollars.
maybe this would help the strongness of my soul regain its beauty.
hahaha, i can see why you would laugh, but maybe you shouldn't be laughing at this.
maybe this reigns true to you, and you believe it to be.
maybe instead of this beautiful land, you see the same five areas you've always seen, and
then add a little bit of ethanol to make it go by.
yes, maybe i do, but i am living its wonder.
maybe you should instead face the giants of the land, and instead face your fears.
maybe you should figure out how to stop being a stressed monkey with wings.
i am but a soul on a river in the river's heart, with the souls purse and i hate you.
but, maybe, beauty beauty beauty beauty.
maybe youre an idiot.
i know im not.
i do think, though, that the world is a place with dildos and donkeys.
i do think, actually, culminating through my blood vessels are the genes of the once fallen,
the mighty bipolar and depressive invalids of the past, and the ugly and fortune telling
souls of the futures ass.
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