|
|
The atrophic rise of Judas Christ
|
||||||||||||
| Jun 30th 2006 |
|
||||||||
|
You pathetic fucking worm. Hi! I'm here to rattle your cage. These are my eyes. This is my perfect world. Perfectly flawed in every way. Just fucking give up already. You bore me, slut. Uh oh, singularity... what ever shall we do?! Oh, so fucking amazing! You have NO idea! I can see Jesus at the bottom of the gorge. Go be with Him, you fucks. But you're still so unarmed. Recycling your own filth intravenously. Pull the fucking needle out of your arm, then talk to me. Nevermind. This is beauty! Waste of curiosity, waste of flesh. *rattle, rattle, rattle* Hoo-fucking-ray for onomatopoeia! Mmm... your cerebrum's so fucking tight. Are you getting your money's worth? Would you like a straw? Would you like to know every little detail about my life? Wouldn't you love to make me obtuse like you? Sweet little peppermint pussies... begging! pleading! screaming! ccy gleg chevvis Oops, I'm sorry... (no, I'm not) (YES, I AM!) Did you want me to change your life now? What a marvelous catharsis! U-fuck-ing-reek-Ah! Heat to white hot as a purgative. Good for the soul. What do you expect when you put your leash in my hand, bitch? Such soothing abuse suits you so well, baby haggot. Run through fields of freedom and delusion. Aren't you happy yet, babydoll? You're smiling, so that must fool 'em all, eh? Gosh, you're so clever. Golly, I wish I could be just like you when I grow up. Gee, I really want you to fuck me unmercifully. It'd mean the WORLD. EVERY-FUCKING-THING IN THE ENTIRE FUC-KING WORLD! Yes, I can talk at you. So, who am I? One thing's still certain, but I'll never teeellll... I get off on your insanity just like a plump pair of tits. A pretty face made divine; shining with millions of the unborn. Cannibalism ain't that bad then, is it? Honest. I promise this. I swear that. I think I'm through castrating myself now. Even though it doesn't hurt anymore, it's lost its initial appeal. WHY??!!! Haha, having fun yet?! HUH?! Don't worry baby. Everything's alright. Imagine that. Everything being alright. Ain't that fucking trippy? You should know that you're the scum of the earth. Ain't that fucking wild, man?! So, I was so fucked up... I was drunk this one time... I was tripping balls, and... I was 69ing a midget the other day, and the craziest thing happened... You'd never believe it! NEVER! I'm nobody you think I am. Well, maybe, sort of, in a way. But this! This is definitely not... Wait, no. Fuck! Nevermind. Rebellion's such a fucking chore; sadly but truthfully so fucking trite. Certainly doesn't pay like any real job, eh? A&D (Analysis and Discussion) time! Remember, when a grown-up is speaking, little boys and girls must sit down, shut the fuck up and listen: Are our personalities nothing more than sums of equations built up of influences and inspirations? Are we really all so unoriginal? Are we so pathetically lacking in self-sufficience that we need other people to make us happy? Strange. There always seemed to be more to it than that. Universal simplicity is the name of the game, eh? Fuck your game. Fuck your expectations. Fuck your revelations. Fuck your dewey-eyed false idolatry. Fuck your underground. Fuck your mainstream. Fuck your love. Fuck your hate. Fuck your impossible inertia. Fuck your slogans. Infact, fuck this fucking list, fucker. Don't forget to fuck off. :) |
||||||||
|
|
| May 27th 2006 |
|
||||||||
|
Do not presume. Don't fucking assume. You suck at life. You're wrong. Stop guessing. Go away. Stop reading. Seriously, fuck off. I don't need any of you. But keep reading. Please? :) Before you bootlickers eat this out of me... I'm prying this out of my fucking skull. I'm waltzing gracefully into nihility. I'm redefining redundancy. Can you see my smile growing as you give me what I've wanted all along? You couldn't even if you wanted to. Yes, that is a gun in my pocket. No, I'm not glad to see you. Doesn't that amuse you? Because it fucking amuses me! I pretend not to know who's looking, but I know. Is this your greatest gift? Is this your highest talent? Is that the best you can fucking do? Pitiful. You don't even deserve the grace of my saliva on your face. Fuck everything that you love, including me. You're so fucking beautiful. Each and everyone of you (but not you, or you). You, and you, you you youyouyouyouyouyouYOUYOUYOU. It's too fucking easy. I am the end. This is the beginning. Little toys playing in their toybox. Kill your master... tonight. You've no idea what he's capable of. tHAT'S tOO mUCH oF a nARRATIVE! i'M nOT fUCKING yELLING! Stop trying to open the door because you don't have the fucking key. You never did, silly bitch. WRONG! WRONG! WRONG! Beauty is the end. Beauty is the fucking end. Pardon me while I kick the world in the face. Kiss it and make it better, sweetheart. God, if I had a sledgehammer... You'd feel that motherfucker tapping your shoulder right about now. Hello! I'm Mars the pacifist. "No banda". Oh yes... you're right. So marvelously fucking contrived. You're so correct! Good for you! I am the beginning and end of your greatest fantasies. I will offer no explanation. Fuck whatever you think you know. I am the frowning apex. I am reality, and I'm here to smack you in the goddamn face. This makes no sense(?).[!] Haha, isn't it fun to love lunacy and all its 'tics? "I'm stubborn as those garbage bags that time cannot decay. I'm junk, but I'm still holding up this little wild bouquet..." Damaged and yet still so fucking perfect, eh? I'm a chaste whore, a corpse deity, a fucking legend. pphh The most honest liar you'll ever meet, again and again. Champagne with rat poison. Lascivious carcinogenesis. Ontology recapitulates phylogeny." Subvert the dominant fucking paradigm. Then go have a sandwich. "Eat all the grass that you want." Don't look in my windows. Nobody's home and you're not welcome. Vandalize me and leave. Obviously I'm tolerating it, you clever bitch. Keep that up and you'll be due for a promotion in no time. None at all. Even if I end up hating it, I'm going to deserve solitude. I'm ashamed of my pride. I'm muting my mutability. I never said to follow me off this goddamn cliff. Goddammit, now we have to fall in love. How dare you? Seriously, how? You've got some balls, fool. You can't fucking kill me. *sigh* Where's Freddie Mercury when you need him? Stop paying attention! It's far too expensive to pay it to me and I can see that you're fucking broke. Ignore this! Ignore this! Ignore this! Ignore this! Ignore this! Ignore this! Ignore this! Thumbs for sale! 2 for $1! Fuck victimization. Fragile, obsequious, digital concubine. You are not alive. You are not free. Not like me. The complacent malcontent. Don't ambiguous pronouns drive you fucking crazy?! Aren't you curious? Aren't you salacious? Aren't you magnificently fucking vacuous? When I'm through laughing at you, I'll pretend to laugh with you. It's alright, dear. Aren't I so fucking sincere? This is a truth that could be a lie at any time. Aren't I versatile? Aren't I clever? R'NT I LYK... SOOOO EFFIN' H0T?! XDDDD Stitch those lips shut, bitch. Open wide and discover purpose. Filthy and goddamn gorgeous. A poisonous, peppermint fairy in boots. One last (im)purity in a place where nothing is the last anything. To begin again from the beginning. |
||||||||
|
|
| Jan 16th 2006 |
|
||||||||
|
Poor, poor girl. Please hold her. Please kiss her. Please love her. She has no lips. She has no soul. She's not like you. She is no longer human. But doesn't she have a nice smile? Doesn't she have a concealed weapon? Shouldn't we kill her? Shouldn't we ignore her? Shouldn't we play pretend? She could've ruled the world. But, the fool... she fell in love. What an insipid fucking retard, eh? You'll never hear her say she's sorry. So much bitter hatred, yet she found love. She could tell you stories, but you don't care. Be honest. I'm not lying. Believe me. She could've been trusted. She really could've been... She was scary. She could feel. She was so ashamed. She just wanted to be normal. She just wanted to be numb. She just wanted to be boring like you. And you. And you. Grow the fuck up already. Don't you have anything better to do with your time? So easy. So fucking easy. So pathetic. Cast in calluses and blisters. Such a toxic little malcontent. But she could've given the world. She could've ruled it. She could've kicked it in the fucking face. She deserved every heart in her hand. No matter how insignificant. She commanded attention with a goddamn sledgehammer. To think, all she ever wanted to do was talk. Share her life. Share whatever could be known as her soul. She hated people who wished on stars. She hated praying as an act of desperation. But nobody ever knows what they want, right? NOBODY EVER KNOWS WHAT THEY WANT, RIGHT?! That's why she invented the word, "misanthropy." And yes, that's why he hated her. He wasn't the only one. But he wasn't the one. Plane crashes are so sexy. Suffering made her wet. She fucked herself everytime she saw someone crying. She was jealous. You have no idea. You really don't. Those teeth enticed her. God, she loved his smile. God, she missed smiling. And those eyes... What a marvelous disguise. She knew this was the last she'd see of him. She was crying as she prepared. Nobody'll know which brand of tears though. She regretted piercing herself for him. She regretted trusting anyone. She regretted not doing this sooner. She regretted having something to regret. Seriously. You are now officially hated. Now. Feel special, you fucking imbecile. ... Have you begun? As she climbed the stairs, she remembered that night. Everything was so perfect. She thought, "Finally... happiness." She wept as he had his way. The boundaries of sorrow and joy blurred further that evening. She knew. Her tears made him throb. Her skinned knees, her raw knuckles, her purple wrists. She bled, she cried, she came. Her old teddy bear seemed to be looking at her. Looking so disappointed. Freshly penetrated. Now, now, she's a woman. ...right? She can't tell. He'd be mad. He was afraid. She'd leave him. She'd hurt him. She had to know. She belonged to him. Ouch. That sux. I'm sorry. I love you. I don't know. Wish I could help. Wish I could offer another tender platitude. I'm fresh out. I have no more attention to pay. My attention is expensive. So pay me, baby. Yeah, fuck you too. Suddenly, she was wrong. Suddenly, she was ecstatic. She wasn't happy at all. She was numb for the first fucking time in her life. She was content. She hated everything, and that made her smile as she reached for her gun. That old lullaby echoed in her mind as she closed her eyes. Still smiling. You should've seen 'em. You really should've. But remember, she's a failure. Such a beautiful, disgusting failure. A divine fucking waste of flesh. You should take a picture. You really should. It does, indeed, last longer. But she's changed. He'll be so proud. She'll be a success. She cradled his pretty head in her unworthy hands. Her dirty, filthy fucking hands. You should've seen where those hands had been. You really should've. And then, there they were. Those gorgeous windows to his fucking soul. Or whatever. He awoke as he felt the blade firmly gliding across his neck. Wouldn't you? Suddenly, he was content. He was then freshly penetrated. Then, he could've been a man. He parted his lips to cry out to her. She merely placed her finger to her own and whispered, "ssshhh." Her knife finished its glorious ballet, and he had begun. To bleed, to cry, to cum. At once. The last moment. He knew. Nothing mattered. He was so proud. He smiled, and she fell in love again. Everything was so perfect. You should've been there. You really should've. And as he slipped out of this cruel fucking world, she softly sang to him: It was always you that I despised. I don't feel enough for you to cry. Here's a lullaby to close your eyes. ...goodbye." Isn't it funny, really? She felt so original. So unique. Like a stupid fucking snowflake, right? She knew. She knew they'd laugh. She knows you're laughing now, fucker. She still hates you. And you. And you. The smell of his blood was remarkably intoxicating. Definitely something to write home about. She wanted to fuck herself so hard. But remember, she's a failure. A spectacular mess. Yes, that's who she was. She could've loved him unconditionally. She could've been trusted. She really could've. But you wouldn't care. Be honest. Isn't she selfish? Isn't she insignificant? Isn't all this so inconvenient? Don't you love her now? She knew. She had one friend left. She had but to pull him to be in paradise. Gently now, gently... He was going to set her free. Doesn't it make you smile too? You should've been there. You really should've. |
||||||||
|
|
| Dec 28th 2005 |
|
||||||||
|
So let me have you look over here. Someone's dying over there. Stare at the sun long enough and you'll be forced to use your imagination. You poor dear, I know thinking hurts. Just slip into my utopia of manipulation. Forget your name and address. Forget your bags and your straws. This is here. This is now. These are real moments. For once, take a little pride in your humanity. *sigh* Whatever pride there is left that can be justified. Still paying attention, or have I emptied your poor pockets? No more attention for now, I see. If not now, fucking when? If not here, fucking where? Where am I going, you ask? Does anyone ever truly know at all? Isn't all human communication simply a means to an end? Come get what you want from me, you fucking vultures... You pitiless parasites; this is NOT symbiosis. I'm getting eaten alive, and you're adjusting the lighting. Tweaking the mix, zooming in, zooming out. Admiring the magnificent fucking spectacle. Have another lollipop. Another cigarette. Have another drink, you vacant fanatic. Who knew that enjoying who you are could be so unpopular? Who knew that intelligence, though so infrequently expressed, is yet not dead? Who fucking knew?! Candlelight stars float across the fire escape. As I slide into dreams, out of the world, away from all of you. If I ever had a prayer, this (which is a missing scene) would be it. But I know the way your fucking sadist works, ma'am. The genie will only grant my wish when I no longer wish it granted. Then, I shall resign myself, on bended knee, to the infernal blade of blissful ignorance. It will slit my throat, and I'll finally be satisfied... Right?! Isn't that the way destiny works? Isn't that the purpose of purpose itself? ahes vu diu bemc thyr niuo maav e fuh cajmacsard ajaemap hyl caoa niuo anurl y asulap cyr ahes he fyc iuo onadcos ard I see I'm not the only one with an escape. I'm an artificial fool and a mirror on this glorious waste of a stage. I sing, I dance, I lie, I hypocriticize (sic). Chew, chew, chew, my little cattle. It's only an illusion. With crocodile tears and my blue pencil in hand, I am God in this land. A savory savior, quenching your thirst with poisonous baptismal germ. (Scene Missing) Dear Christ, I've never seen anyone so fake. I sort of wonder what they'd feel like inside. Like fucking a corpse. Like fucking me. Smiles like used car salesmen. Tits by Picasso. Minds by (point your finger wherever you like). No one is innocent. No one is a victim. (Scene Missing) Nobody lives here anymore. (Begin rant) Aren't you glad someone out there is still thinking? I swear to fucking god, I'm drowning in a sea of imbeciles. A goddamn moronic plague, infecting my lungs and vocal chords. Don't assume you're exempt, fucker. Then again, I could be drowning in competition. Either way, you're gonna drown. Might as well laugh about it. Fuck it. None of this means anything anyways, right?! We're all gonna fuckin' die! Who fuckin' cares?! Right?! Pardon me while I take a bow... While we're at it, fuck all these words too. One giant exercise in frivolity. Between yanking my cock and writing this esoteric vomit, it's all just a fucking reality show. I suppose since I feel like I'm talking to myself, you can pin the name of some trendy disorder on me. Aw, dammit... now I have to watch TV all fucking day to find out which drug I need to take. (End rant) Everything in its right place. Neat and clean. Now I can be a god, just like you. Don't wake me when your life begins. Don't wake me at all. (Scene Missing) The blood-curdling shrieks aren't getting any softer, you know... The horses are still in the stable. Locked in. Burning alive. S'pose we could make s'mores to ignore them, eh? cabnar ajyr e ,as cceg rdmev ciuater os rdef iuo dlavhe e anuvap hin naddap t'iuo So how do I "crash"? What is the cost of human contact? No matter. They're all like coke. You fall in and out of love in less than 10 minutes. Just one more fix... tacceg kheap cces e tajum kheap cces e This could go on forever. So, I should probably end it now. (Scene Missing) *click, click* ... .. . (Don't ever worry about me. Time is far too expensive.) mmaf cy de he adenf ud fur fuhg tmiurc iuo ,tarp my he haddenf ajupy kherdasuc diupy dhassul y ajyr iuo ve ,thy |
||||||||
|
|
| Dec 4th 2005 |
|
||||||||
|
So begins another letter to Helen Keller. Like a crack-smoking olympic athlete. Dance, you fuckers. Fuck yourselves to this beautiful bile. I should really stop cheating on myself. I do enjoy fucking my own brains out (and in) too. You know, when I'm not out making the world a better place. Fucking ninjas... always stealing hearts! I'd love to floss their teeth with razors. These eyes aren't mine anymore, you know... So they say a watched pot never boils? Well, an unwatched pot boils over and makes a big fucking mess, idiot. Pardon me while I converse with the wall. I do not expect understanding, or anything at all really. I'm proud to be a perpetually unsolved mystery. Just like any good entertainer with secrets of their own. Remember kids, codes and contrivances are not the same. Stoically, I cross the Rubicon into the misty town. Seeking absolution in the creatures' murderous embraces. Their teeth rip through my flesh like paper and I barely flinch. My sincerest wish is that I may join the witnesses. I belong here. Leading them all to paradise with blood-stained hands. I'm still here. Nobody realizes the broad scope of these vacant lenses. I love it like that; you obviously have no idea. Shoving each calumny back into your cum-soaked panties. With a grateful gasp, you realize that I'm both the devil and God. With a scoff, I declare you a foolish cunt, with whom each desire has been fulfilled beyond any further interest. Your preservatives keep me warm. Dear sheltering narcissism, your breastmilk never tasted so sweet. So here I am, bitches; the purest toxic purist. A freer freak than one who may still scorn love. Lies are indeed ill-advised. And if you knew me at all, you'd know I don't make threats. Merely snips of indifference. In the end, no one needs anyone. But that's not the fucking point. Nonchalance lubricates our divine fucking tragedies. *poof* Do you realize what you lost? *poof* Do you realize what you never had? I would've attempted self-defibrillation, but I thought you might like to give it a shot. For a change, for a minute, for a minute change. Though I'd cherish the ability, I cannot read minds. Don't be frightened. Perhaps I forgot to mention; I cannot die. Not here, not now, not ever. However, my life is still priceless, and so is yours. Those eyes, that smile... you still captivate me, dear. You still make me grin like a retard. At last, I can understand my past. I'll enjoy this love as long as it'll last. Turbulence and baggage can make the flight so much more interesting. Don't you agree? |
||||||||
|
|
| Oct 16th 2005 |
|
||||||||
|
Today, I pretended the sky fell down. Everybody was a robot. Insects owned every house in the neighborhood. Poor little me; I was not supposed to be there. I wasn't meant to be anywhere, but I was. Today, I took a walk and pretended it was normal. Nothing out of character; nothing to worry about. Calm yourselves. Things aren't as bleak as they seem. Or, at least, today I pretended they weren't. Today, I pretended all love lasts forever. I pretended everyone understood what it meant. Nothing to be afraid of; nothing to be just merely enjoyed. My toxicity was trivial. Perhaps it isn't so imaginary. Despite the crooked path behind me, I tread forward into uncertainty with great anticipation. Today, I pretended to step outside myself, such as I am. I saw beauty in mediocrity. But who's to say what either one truly is? Today, I shook my own hand. Pats on the back are just not enough. A few revelations, a few resolutions, the usual. Just exploiting my God-given curse of thinking. Hearing what I heard, seeing what I saw, feeling what I felt. Letting the rats run their own races. Perhaps I have you to thank for these words. Though your eyes remind me that I need none. Today, I pretended my confidence had been restored. I didn't feel 100 lbs. heavier again. Maybe if I keep pretending, it'll happen for real. Maybe it's my poison talking. It does that sometimes. Today, I pretended those were admiring stares; not malicious glares. Father will stain them, too, with his silent cyanide. From flowers, to mountains, to planets, even to little boys. Nobody is free. Today, I laid down in the forest. For once again, and not the last time, time didn't matter. Mother didn't scold me; just caressed my feverish cheeks. She spoke in comforting, albeit somewhat silly and trite, ways. Whispering in my ears no discernible messages. She helped me remember another she loves me too. Today, I remembered that total freedom doesn't exist. Today, I cherished the challenges. Today, I realized sometimes compromise is inevitable. Today, I realized that isn't so bad in comparison... I'll be trying a new chemistry; a new alchemy. Though I won't be laboriously trying, so much as calmly experiencing. I wish I believed in God so I could thank him/her/it. I also wish you'd realize that athiesm is idiotic. The full spectrum of human emotion; the music I've chosen to enhance it... Breath-fucking-taking, seriously. Today, it all floated away. You should be so fortunate. You should be taking pictures. Or kicking the world in the face anyway you know how. Remember, a kick in the face can be another way to say "I love you." Only if you're a pro, though. Today, I remembered that solitude is bad if you don't love yourself. Today, I pretended to understand it all; to know everything. Today, I practiced breathing; counting my heartbeats. Today, I felt so alive, even if it was only pretend. |
||||||||
|
|
| Sep 19th 2005 |
|
||||||||
|
These are my purest moments of honesty. I sincerely wonder if I'd miss you humans. Chasing fairies' tails with a fast car you know eeeeeeeverything about. Kill yourself. Haha. I would've taken my own pill long ago, except I know it'll be a hell of a show. I never have tired of watching a toilet flush. It'd be the first time I'd applaud it though. I'd laugh, but... Haha, oh well. For all pokers and pushers, I speak in the present. That which does not exist, I speak within and of. I cherish my cynicism. I'm in love with my disdain. I reject. I entertain myself. I'm asking and answering all my questions, and it feels so fucking good, you have no idea. A smile is no mask for my ignorance of your staggering imbecility. Just thought I'd let ya know... I may still be plotting your demise. YES! Come to me, my little haggots! You keep my kingdom buzzing; you put ants to shame. Though I'm a bit superstitious, I think my encryption will dodge all bullets. You may have to run for your pulsating lilliputian deities. You may not have permission anymore. Don't yell at me, I just work here. Oh, the fucking temptation of mediocrity! Oh, the allure of vanilla fucking cunts! Guess what? Fuck ALL of you. You don't know who you are. If I have my way, you never will. *poof* *snip, snip* Aaaalll gone. *single tear* I'll miss you. Pphh. Eh, but why stop reminding myself I'm alive? After all, not knowing is half the fun. Just let me know when to take my foot out of the door. Of course, that's assuming I still trust you. Is a cartoon grin really your best disguise? Burying your identity with a bouquet of insecurity. We can giggle all fucking night! Jacks without boxes praising anonymity and idiocy. Isn't this life defined? Isn't this life lived? Nevermind communication, comprehension; this is rapture. Significance is irrelevant. Who is this poor little girl out in the poor little world? Wearing a t-shirt that says she's interesting. The truth is in the tits, bitch. Searching for the peacock to her replicunt. She's written down all her answers 100 times. Can anyone hear this trumpet when I stand on this soapbox? Or are you still waiting for dick jokes? "Oh sweet rapist eyes, look what you've done to me." Hovering hypnotically through stygian channels. Aurora on hold; our own nowhere, doing nothing. So far yet so close; such lunacy entices. Tickled pink but neither ticklish. Carefully selecting words I don't need. Swaying in blacklight, a glance tells all. Or simply enough for now. All in good time. I am. You are not. Go home. |
||||||||
|
|
| Mar 22nd 2005 |
|
||||||||
|
This entry is marked private. Or is it? This could be meant for you, or nobody at all. You shouldn't ____ __ ___ ______ without me. It can be quite impolite. And now, a story: It's almost bedtime, boys and girls. Your narrator paid good money to ruin himself. You see, some need an atrophic hand. Casually festering into mediocrity. This was therapeutic once. All in all, this black bar between my teeth ain't so bad. Complacency certainly is tricky. Take me in with open arms. My feet no longer touch the ground. My flesh, a mere husk. The windows to a vacant soul, stained by time. Shut for the winter, shut for fucking good. The silence is beautiful beyond comprehension. And all the pieces on the ground...  Suddenly, words aren't enough. The inertia alone can drive you mad. This is important. This, right now. Don't pay attention, it's all bullshit. Who is the strongest weed? Who loves to be numb? Ahh, the air is ripe tonight. Tonight we murder! Tonight we murder! You see, you can't see. Through the eyes of ennui. All will turn green and envy will be frivolous. Are you suuuure? I'd bless your blindness, but oblivion is so much sexier. Pump it, one, two, three... Now is your life complete? Filling the voids in our materialistic souls with the best air money can't buy. How about now? I'd say it's sad, but I'd have to care. The ever so intangible "they." How ignorant they are to the solemn beauty of the night. How easily one can forget, and yet how easily reminded. And how proudly I stepped through those windows,  but I now am unearthed. Grace wasn't amazing. And I'm not saved. Far too many were lost... now that's sad. And I do care. ...sehctib ,em wolloF Will I be born still? Isn't eroticism erratic? An armful of trophies and a stunning frown. Observe the obsolescence. Ignorance shines as bright as insight. Walk into the fucking light. So I suppose I should strut. Somehow, I sow, but I don't reap. *rrrrrrrip* *pluck* *snip snip* deleteteledeleteteled Let me (for)get that for you. It's so simple! Clap on, clap off. Maybe it's just me. Maybe. it's. just. me. Isn't it pathetic? Isn't a pity? Isn't it fucking redundant? Bound and blind, karma's rape continues. Forced contrition in the midst of this snow job. I'm grinning with your cold barrel between my teeth. Oh, that smile. Just to defile you once again. Rub my skin white again. We can compare carapaces when we murder the sun at dawn. Like the sheer viscosity of eption in December. We abandon all our senses. And we mute the shrill shrieks of the dying embers. Because it's better that way. Comfort is life! Complacency is next to godliness.  Such shock at such ignominy. Can a gasp truly clench one so tightly? Know now that mere notes may awaken the behemoth. I've even gagged myself for now. Tread lightly, bitches. Dear Mr. Santos, Your voice resonates louder now than ever before. I sincerely thank you. Dear Mr. Horseplan, Your audacity has always been an inspiration. With 8 seconds, I exorcise and baptize. You've seen 'im; that pesky old demon. Three cheers for insipid repetition... Dear Faceless Audience, Dress your minds once again. I've finished my cigarette with a scowl and a sigh. And my feet still do not touch the ground. |
||||||||
|
|
| Mar 21st 2005 |
|
||||||||
|
(Note: There is no right or wrong; all I want is an answer.) |
||||||||
|
|
| Jan 31st 2005 |
|
||||||||
|
Fucking page... How blank art thou? And yet tyrannical and brilliant. Slow and sadistic. Your ivy chokes me. So now I must beat myself back to life. Flood my throat with your peppermint Shiraz. Drown the wasps; jailed in coarse ivory. My dear KB corpses, what a shameful parade. I'd smack myself, but I'd have to care more. I refuse to not let you use your imagination. I've learned that censorship is a pretty dirty fucking word. Why are sentences so peculiar to you? Am I a. better artist, now? I hope my circle dance fascinates you. I hope it makes you fall in love with me out of pity. All I have is a hat full of change, and I'm writing this for you. This is your life, that is mine. Our imaginations are on vacations. Our creativity is watching a sitcom rerun. And our futures are $5.95, just around the corner. Do you hear time marching on? Strike yourself out of awe, because possibility is fleeting. Honesty is simple, but so is selfishness. The two are too mutually exclusive. Let me live while you hesitate. So, can you see in the dark? Or must you feel Bunny's hand in yours as you trudge through the poetic muck? I hope you can read. I became a spoon for a second there. (This time, there is one.) Waiter, is my steak ready for me? ...And tears blur my jaded yet intrepid eyes. Each time I see us in others. You know that while I'm your bear, you're my warrior. No matter how little, I feel you protecting our world. And however far away, I'm guarding us too. Building a utopia... perhaps invisible, yet indivisible. Imperfect to others' eyes, but we can see that flaws can be sexy. ...And suddenly, I begin. Mere fingers carry me into the beyond through a symbolic matrix. Now the distant isn't so much as simply within my grasp. Though the shell has thinned, my spirit thickens. So do my perceptions enchant you? At least as much as they do me? Love yourself first, then true love will come. You'll see with a clarity they try to deny you of. Your eyes are your own to define the intangible. Though if that seems an exercise in futility, congratulations! You've begun to comprehend your own liberty. And though you'll never be a libertine, you can conquer your backyard. Become the ruler of a room for whom it does not presume. You are who you are. Neither transitional nor transitory, I begin again from the beginning. All the clouds in your Skye have captivated me, dear Amaris. I'm still preparing a life, and I hope your patience lasts. Such ineffable beauty awaits you... be strong, little warrior. |
||||||||
|
|
| Dec 17th 2004 |
|
||||||||
 |
||||||||
|
|
| Dec 9th 2004 |
|
||||||||
|
She was even blonde like Julie when she left... Now, it's life v2.0. I promise, I'll make love to your mind next time. So now I'm standing, sitting and putting my foot down simultaneously. I refuse to be ousted as if I didn't exist. I will not perish if not by an inferno. But here I am, playing with matches; anticipating the solemn flame. Is this what those simple people with their simple words meant? So now I'm asking gently, is there something I should know? No? Run along then. Your naïveté is so fucking sexy... I could merely spit to proclaim my affection. To think you'd find sanctuary in such a feeble fortress. Just compare the bitter, empty air to the sweet, empyreal seed. You'll soon see, I used to be me, but now me's not there. Take it or leave it? Take it, now leave. "Yes!" I speak at you as I pat your head in pretension. It is a nectarous absinthe, but we, and only we, have the fitting flasks for it. Now, don't you disappoint me by revealing your effrontery. You'd need the key, and fortuitously, I'm well fortified. "...please, please, help me..."  Are there names pinned to these tirades? I think not. Or do you not think? Therefore we are not, right Descartes? Sing to me, O glorious insipidity. Oh, how vacuous are we? Let me count the fucking ways. So, how's the weather down there? You fucking imbeciles... This is my pseudonym for a reason.  Fuck the beast and the Priest; this is my life. A new life that eclipses the old. Be patient, reviletion (sic) is on its way. The scissor wounds make this throne so much more comfortable. I sit in perpetual smirking derision; watching you all putresce. Behind this radiant, glowing window to the world. What else can one do with fascist, self-righteous apes in control? Control? is right. Haha, but I wouldn't waste the criticism. You can point that finger right at me. ...God, who am I anymore? A blessed coma victim and prophet. The weight of the world on my eyelids. I press on through the storm, cause I'm obviously a goddamn fool. Can I be the first thing you see? Your candor is much appreciated, my dear. Are you still watching me? I should remember the rotten blooms, as I sell my lips for a pittance. Seeing something collapse and augment simultaneously... It all brings tears to my crocodile eyes. Such stultifying beauty in artifice. Coalesce, concentrate, solidify. Snip snip, bitches. Suddenly, it's all gone, but it's all still here. Dramatic, eh? Will you kiss coins under my tongue when my world is done? Flourishing, festering, gorgeous fucking mess. Now, if only you could see the smile on my corroded face. She sympathetically discarded my dead and gave me new, so now I can play another day with you. Come walk through my garden of R-shaped candy canes. We can revel in our sanguine complacence. We can mock the Earth, and if they aren't jealous now, fuck 'em. A girl and her island. The warm water makes callouses so soft. I dunno boys and girls... should I rub them off? I'm carving my epitaph with a blue pencil. But only I will see the blue within these gold letters. This trash has been formatted to fit your screen. This has been a blank production by the most eidolic of idols, Judas Christ. Finish your circle dance and I'll tuck you in, you brass harlots. pphh |
||||||||
|
|
| Aug 16th 2004 |
|
||||||||
|
Little girl... I seem to be lost, but then again, so do you. I invite your "God" to try, but I, as one man, will dethrone your deity. Not to take his place, but to fucking burn it all down. I remember when the contents of your panties used to interest me. My seed coating your amorous grin. "Did my heart love 'til now?" Pphh... God forbid we attempt conversation. Oh, and fuck those cotton lips. Those sugar tits. What a joke. Drown and laugh motherfucker. Your life is over.  And there'll be no time for goodbye... I think I'm finished. I've exploited the final physical disclosure to ridiculous lengths. I'd sooner enjoy fucking a corpse than you... I'm the most honest liar you'll ever know. Lay your natural state down and frown. You're safer now that I hate you. So we're here in oblivion... now what? It's all a part of that same old dance. circlecirclecirclecirclecirclecirclecirc Fun for the whole family! Bring the kids! Half off with coupon from participating retailers! You're the most disgusting waste of flesh I've ever seen... Wanna fuck? but it's quite apparent to me now that I've fucking OD'd. You should've seen the smiles on their faces. You should've seen the smirk on mine. But I refuse to float into insipidity with you.  Snip snip... Now disappear completely. Don't you know how? Aww, poor baby. Did you try to do something worthwhile? Just lay down and rub yourself for me. Just let yourself decay; don't fight it. Discard all color in dreams. Only dream of fucking those you can't have. And despite all of this, I do still love. You might want to make a note. You'll rarely see me speak so candidly. ...and I'm back! By the way, nevermind. Oh yeah, and goodbye... |
||||||||
|
|
| Jul 11th 2004 |
|
||||||||
|
Keep smiling... Dispose of all my watches and clocks with fucking wet cunts and hard fucking cocks. Don't forget to ignore everything! Take a picture cause my fucking head is spinning. I've become an original cliché. Remarkably trite and a tolerated vandal. And I'm still smirking as you serve me unknowingly. Giggling as I rewind and rewind again... But somehow I'm back to my black-toothed grin. And I can't even laugh or cry, so I'm lying. I could upstage the arch dandy with my disappearing act. On my stage, where no one's even a black dwarf. And suddenly, they come...  You're still my favorite enigma. And this time I'll solidify my sternum, because I can't afford you. Not just yet anyway... You see? I can love life... as long as existence is convenient. I'll dry your tears and show you how green my lawn is. One day, you'll be salivating for the time of day... I won't have to beg myself to remember you love me. You won't have to beg yourself to not let it die. Trouble comes and goes and comes and goes and comes again. And I flinch only once out of disgust. A girl who should've sewn her mouth shut and sewn the other open. The sweet exploitation of the lovesick obtuse and obscene. Don't be fooled. I'm merely skilled at hiding my madness. You don't know me, and you never will. Nor will you care to, so leave now. Save yourself some time, go shopping. Eat all your dessert. Indulge your ignorance, as it is so blissful to the happily blind. And please fucking shoot yourself. And, my tender reformative countess, I have never been called anything so inane. Not even in the strangest of my dreams.  But alas, I slept on... Hoping I'd get it right next time. And as it was then, so it is now. I promise, I'm not this, nor that. So good luck, for now. |
||||||||
|
|
| May 13th 2004 |
|
||||||||
|
"So, is this one gonna make any sense?" "Well, they all make sense; at least, to me." I flew through the one horse town with three angry Armenians. I saw a black man and was relieved. Relieved enough to dull the shock of the bumpkin vacuity. He reminded me that I know nothing, and thus can now begin knowing something. Haha, GOTCHA! I may now be truly justified in inking myself with atrophy. I may now be truly dying from within. Take a picture and grin. Remember, there's so much to look forward to.  Aren't you proud of me? Hi! I'm fake; nice to meet you. Please take pity on me. Ah, but alas, I grow jaded of pounding points into heads like railroad spikes. Maybe the angle's all wrong. I'd like you to meet my vacant side. Frivolous and ostentatious as a silicone heroine. You WILL indulge my iniquity if you know what's good for you. I'll never be lonely again.
I wouldn't want to remember your face even in the sweetest of nightmares. Let me read to you from Pg. 27. And Chuck, you're so right about the distraction-oholics; the focus-ophobics. Take me, I poked out my eyes in the rush to point the finger. Stare at the solemn man. He's guilty and he's holding a sign that reads: "This is not a slogan." Trust me, this is not thievery of even the highest degree. Trust me because I'm a fucking liar. And it's not funny, so stop laughing. I told you... I fucking told you... You talk to someone else. This is me, myself, and I. It's also nobody, believe it or not. So are we left to scrape profundity out of a deep, tiny cannikin (haha) with no fucking utensil? Guess what? *gasp* "There is no spoon." There, now all of you can nurture your NEO-NEOn (buy 1, get 1 free) imaginations. Do you have any coupons? Would you like a fucking straw? *sigh* "IIIII've been workin' on the railroad..." Don't you dare misinterpret this or that. I'll bite you, just like MICHAEL!  Anger? or Pride? Be yourself, and all that (junk)jazz. I'm trying hard to give myself multiple personalities. Is it working? IS IT?! Your heads have been the best fuck I've ever had. Or should I say "make love?" Choose your euphemisms, fools. I'll still never be lonely as long as I can shake my own hand. Greet my reflection with a grim grin. Maybe if I keep convincing myself that something's temporary, it'll become permanent. My, what a syrupy sanguine smirk you have... All the better to consume you with, my dear. What's consume? Is it like consumer? No, whore... nevermind.  Fuck this shit. I'm tired of dancin'. I'm ready for bed. But don't fucking try to tuck me in. |
||||||||
|
|
| Apr 2nd 2004 |
|
||||||||
|
I know somethin' you don't know. I'm tangled in lies, betrothed to truth. "Oooh, I'm sooo pretty." This is not what you see, this'll never be. Beware(where?) of facetious speciosity, sweet naïveté. I'd definitely apologize before the bullet bit you. Dewey-eyed, terrified, deity in formaldehyde. Pious nymph, divulge all my naughty secrets to the anxious public! In reality, she knew nothing. They all knew nothing of what I speak. I'd speak in the present, but it doesn't exist. "...Jackie (O.?), oh oh oh please don't die."  Multi-purpose whores, magical thinkers, come protest nothing with us on our front porch. We'll sing songs and hope the world sees it our way soon. I should probably turn off the red light... I wonder if he knows where mommy goes. Blame is for lazy people. It's nobody's fault that I cum with a frown and depart with a bigger one. Dear love, I live so many lives... you can't even count that high. So fucking indifferent, you should go pro. I can't defile pure affection (with words) though. Keep a big word book handy. Lube and vanity glass as well. It will dishevel that black wig. It won't always make noise. Dear mistress, dull nevertheless. What's the euphemism for serial killer again? Cloy your precious Sweet Tooth s'more. I double-dare ya... I didn't ask for thi... wait.. yes I did.  Look into my eyes. See life pass us by. We're so good at it, we'll do it til we die. "Dance with us... dance into oblivion!" I see the eclipse too. And I'm lying, so you're safe. I'll sew my mouth shut and go on a Drummond family vacation. Daytona's nice this time of year, right? Just waiting til we all get drowsy. Sleep overwhelming the world simultaneously. The plastic-wrapped beef will feel good on our cheeks, I promise. One I truly love proclaiming the same. Stripped to filth and purity, communion within bare flesh's embrace. I won't blind myself to call it unprecedented, but sweet 'lil sis, the sparks were so pretty. I suppose we're not that different after all then. Now that I've found serenity in indifference.  Start running now, because I've found a reason. Elysian liasons produce that which you see, blurry as it may be. Aww, did someone write "vacant" on you in your sleep? Dear gore whore, don't forget my promise. The rain gently tapping the glass while our worlds emerge. I'll catch you if you trip off the bus. The End. We'll take a coma together. We'll write about it afterward. This is the truth about the alternate. There aren't enough words to be wasted on your creative mediocrity. There isn't enough breath to be wasted on your curiosity deficiency. I wish I could take back each step of the dance. You couldn't comprehend the word comprehension. That's not pretension by any definition. Fact or fiction? You decide. You decide while I go hide. Take solace in sweet somnolent cyanide. |
||||||||
|
|
| Mar 19th 2004 |
|
||||||||
|
Dear ugly, scream louder. My dear, my virginal magical thinker. I toy with she who stares blankly at my hidden disinterest. Is it really guilt if I'm smirking? Tight, tight, rrrrawr. Mess our faces up, made up and tear-jerked. Is death still sexy? It was love at first frowning apex. I wish my hypocrisy had lips to kiss, oblivous and absolute. Make it pretty(,?) painE. Checkbook flock. Indeed a murder, indeed. Curative cyanide asses in martini glasses. Nice t... oops. Put me at the register, sourheart. Nameless, eyeless, soulless. Less isn't fucking more... March! 1,2,3,4,5,6,7-19.  Give me one fucking reason not to quit, to forget any poetic fragment. 6 years and I've yet to find validity in any of them. Sure do lead a tortured existence, don't I? Pphh. Fuck it, sluts. Devour yourselves, don't forget me. Stay (dis)ease-free. Masturbate into nihility. Don't forget to smirk.  Sure hope I don't regret it... |
||||||||
|
|
|
|
The glorious fall of Judas Christ
|
||||||||||||
cheerful
amused
indifferent
exanimate
calm
contemplative
pensive
worried
predatory
quixotic
pleased
frustrated