Sunday, March 29, 2009


The fuck-up you've all been waiting for.
When even setting one foot on front of the other is wrong, wrong, wrong. You wake up, you've made a mistake again.

Your imaginary friend has fallen downwards, aquired depression somewhere along the way, but it too much of a good actor to show it all the time. "Stop being so down, it's not like you", you mutter. "There is no self for to be like. I have nothing to base myself on", the imaginary friend replies.

Suspended in time?

A soft, liquid voice making its way down your neck, ice cold, freezing you, hypothermia. Blue veins turn to icicles, the sharp tip threating your netting of flesh, ready to burst through. There will be no blood.

"I am no more", the voice says, and repeats itself. You open your eyes and pull your head from the security blanket to face your fear. It's in the water. It's in the mirror.

Glass crunching, ching-ching-ching go the chimes.
Suspended. In. Time.
"This isn't real, I'm melting, I'm melting!"

Icicles dripping in time with the blood on the ceiling, leaking through from floor 26. We're high enough, take the fall. Take the fall. .... ... ....

But you can't face your fear! Turn to the mirror, embrace what you have become, a shadow cast of your former self! Turn up the volume and explosions approach. Look in to the mirror, motherfucker. Look at what you are.

You turn to face the mirror... and get the oddest sensation... as if, you're staring at your friend.

Saturday, March 28, 2009

There is no whole number

God fuck shit, now I'm obsessed with fractions.
I've already ruled out the existance of whole numbers.
5/8ths is larger than 0, but smaller than 1. 3/8ths is smaller than 0, but larger than -1.

There is no whole numbers!!!

(Easily sorted, since between 5/8ths and 3/8ths is 4/8ths, which happens to be 1/2, which could place 0 as half, but then every number would be half, and only two halves make a whole). HA! No whole numbers!

Fucking maths.

Friday, March 27, 2009

Dreams of forgotten seconds and the man who lived alone

So, I got thinking.
If no one else is aware of something, how can you prove it's physically there? You can not. How can you prove it's mentally there? You can not.

Example 1.
A man lives his entire life alone, not a single living person knows of his existance, and he creates something, in a room nobody has ever seen. To the world, he does not exist.
Now, a few questions arise.
A) Would anybody be able to see the thing he created?
B) Did the man ever really exist?

Considering no one ever knew of him, no, he would not exist to anybody, and if nobody else existed to him... Well, no, no one would be able to see his created thing. It's not there, without the knowledge that it exists, ithout any proof of someone creating it, and without any ideas he would have of someone, ( though no one existed to him, he was alone, the only man), no one could ever see this thing. And even if by some miracle they could see it, the man would still not exist.

Neo says, "There is no man".

Now, to further express the point I'm getting at, have you ever seen that film about all the children going missing and no one remembering that they existed? One woman, trying to prove there were children, but memories have been re-adjusted.
How cn you prove everything you rememeber actually existed?
We are aware there is no present time. Every milli-second that passes is the past, every milli-second that is approaching is in the future. You can never hit the exact point of anything. It's always coming, or gone.
So, how can you prove anything, when the exact second is never there, and all memory could've just been inserted and re-adjusted? You can not. Which shows, you can not even prove your own existance.
'I think, therefor, I am'. So, if someone else was sharing your mind, could see all memory, could create thought and influence action, how are they not you?
There is no way to prove anything, which brings us back to 'how can you prove anything if no one else is aware of it, and how can you prove it's in your head?'
No way possible.
You may not be you. You may not exist. And even if you do, how do you know I do? How can you prove you are not dreaming?
In your sleep, in your dreams, you have memory, right? While dreaming, you feel pain, have thought, have memory, what is the difference between reality and dream? More importantly, how can you TELL you're dreaming, while dreaming? How can you prove you're not asleep right now?

Unanswerable, right? No proof.

Crossing the room

Well, I'd never really believed maths to be all that interesting, until Chris started explaining the infinite halves.
So,theoretically, you shouldn't be able to cross a room, because in order to cross half of the room, you have to cross half of that, and then half of that, and it could continue forever. It's rather simple to grasp, when you understand there is no YET possible way to travel a kilometer, before crossing half a kilometer. And so forth.
However, we can cross a room, even though with this theory, we shouldn't be able to.
It then makes me think about the halves and halves and halves that I have crossed, and when the number is infinite, in theory, I haven't travelled at all!
I'm standing still, and have been for eternity because I can not cross the room, can not get to the number underneath a whole...

Suddenly, I understand maths on a whole new level. It just confused the fuck out of me.

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Ward 23


The continuous ringing insists you drag yourself from the yin-yang rug and put on a red dress. Shoes to match, no time for your hair, cut it all off.
Snip-snip-snip, falling locks enter the sewer system, choking rats.
"Quiet, they're sleeping", mutters the wallpaper, the little purple flowers with 'ZZZ' abover theit weary heads.
The politeness of the morning light is non-existant, you decide as you take a step in to the kitchen vortex to hide for a little while. Emerge, and they'll all be gone and you'll be back in ward 23.
A whirlpool approaches.


The continuous beeping insists you drag yourself from the dope-scented couch and put on your best tie. Smile to match, no time for your face, slice it all off.
Hack-hack-hack, falling blood enters the tile pattern, drowning ants.
"Quiet, they're sleeping", mutters the mother of two, the little goblen thieves with 'ZZZ' above their ugly heads.
The politeness of the morning night is so welcoming, you decide as you take a step in to the street vortex to escape for a little while. Re-enter, and they'll all be gone and you'll be back in ward 23.
A whirlpool approaches.


On the streets, the mother of two in the red dress, matching shoes, no hair. Face painted to match the wallpaper, purple and tired. Wipe it all off.
Smile-smile-smile, for the love of God, smile, entertain the customers!
"Quiet, they're sleeping", mutters the brick wall, the little winged creatures with 'ZZZ' above their tiny heads.
It happens to be the promised better tomorrow, you decide that everyone is a liar as you take a step back in to the mish-mash of your head. Exit, and they'll all be looking at you funny and you'll be back in ward 23.
A doctor approaches.


On the bed, the mother of two in the white straightjacket, matching sheets, no hair. Face painted to match the state of her mind, no expression. Take it all away.
Medicate-medicate-medicate, for the love of God, medicate, please the doctors!
"Quiet, she's sleeping", mutters the frowning nurse, the little lady with '???' above her distant head.
'It happens to be the promised better tomorrow', she thinks, 'but still I'm in ward 23, and yet, never really anywhere'. Connect, and they'll let you back out in to the world you despise so much.
A suicide approaches.

Silent trees

Three lines. Oozing, red and weeping, seeping out the stories as they embraced her left breast and protruding right hip bone, jaggard stripes of raised flesh. Thre triangular mark of her slayer was etched into the pale,white flesh of her stomack.
Elbow bent a bruised, arm extended, reaching for something to hold on to in her last reathing moments. Dried blood and rotting skin was trapped beneath her spilnter-struck fingernails, proof of a feeble attack, and an unproffessional assassin.
Glass lay in glistening sunlight, somewhere in the midst of her travels had she aquired the shards in her hands and feet.
Throat slid, hand clutching pathetically at the gaping wound, wishing to restore breath to her choking state, blood spatter making filthy patterns, yet somehow beautiful in a twisted fashion, across her chest, arms, face. Golden curls tangled in a blood-stained mess. Legs splaid wide open to the point of splitting her blood-smeared cunt open.
Her fragile, naked body lay undisturbed amongst the piles of leaves. She would rest here forever, for the silent trees told no secrets.
Are you satisfied, you gore hungry whore? Do you wish you could've heard those famous last words, that eery, tortured scream that escaped her maw in those last dying moments of her miserable life? Do you wish you could've seen some sick fuck ravage and brutalize her pretty little ass? Are you saddened that you didn't get to see the mortified look on her face as her eyes glazed over, eyes locked on his the entire episode?
Her spine is still intact, it was never removed from her body and used to skewer her, fuck her, destroy her. No limbs were removed, and her eyes were never gauged out, no pliers, chainsaws or machetes involved.
It was a little hunting knife that ended her.
Her slayer was consumed by the crimson as it flew from her cut jugular at him in rage. He was satisfies, he would drink of it, bathe in it, take a picture to get himself of to in the future.
But you already know this didn't happen. You already know who he was and what exactly he did to her. I'm so sorry it wasn't a random killing, a sick, perverted fuck on the lose, but there was a story behind all this.
You do not care for the story, you're in it for the blood, you blood-lusting mongrel!
But alas, you know how the story goes.
For you were the killer, and you were the victim. A little battle between two lovers, your other half. You've a taste for suicide, my friend.

Sunday, March 22, 2009

Amongst the trees

So, what a horrible episode... It ends so nicely.
The serpent departs for a little while, my thoughts are my own. He leaves behind a soft, scented trail of bad luck, but nothing I can't handle.
Each time we kissed, he was so eager, so gentle, yet so furious. Just the way I like it. Losing clothes in piles of leaves, a psycho sound filling our ears somewhere far away in the distance of dancing diamonds. Somewhere deep in the bush, amongst trees and darkness, amongst folds of skin, mounds of flesh, somewhere in my own little world. This is exactly what I wanted, let's begin.
What I've been waiting for, for so long it starts to hurt somewhere deep inside, when even your voice makes my whole body tingle with warm pleasure. I envision your face and it overwhelms me, I can't hold back, I need you so bad.
"You know you want to fuck me, and I really want to fuck you, does that feel good?"
Oh, fuck yes.
Taking me on little pleasure adventures, things I'd never felt before, things I would never allow another to bring to me, but still, he never entered me.
One step at a time, but oh God, these steps are so fucking far apart, I can'twait any longer, but I already promised it to you, and so you will get it. I never break a promise.
Sunlight, welcoming the memories of a fucked up night, people I knew so completely wrecked, while my head was only buzzing a little. I tried to mend friendships, meet new people, take care of those too far gone to do it themselves... So lost in other people, I couldn't fully kick back and let the fractals combust, rush towards me and repeat themselves for eternity. 'I could live like this, I swear it'.
And so, the morning came, filled with bodies in close contant, as early chill struck our spines. Little conversation, the passing of a cigarette or two and the hazey thoughts of 'what did we do last night?'.
As the morning graduated into early afternoon, I'd regained control and had the strength to re-enter the world as I previously knew it, keeping gathered information to myself, unlike so many others who graphically explained their stories to me. I checke dup on a few of the worst from the night before, but they were fine, had enjoyed their state and were loving the morning as it came.
And there it was. I suddenly saw how happy they could be, all of them, away from the material world, and safely in the arms of the trees, the music, the real people. Never had I seen them so themselves before, but fuck, it was beautiful.

Thursday, March 19, 2009

How we got this far

Without this make-up, we'd have lost already.
But while we're in this pretty mask, we can achieve anything.
March down the street in a delicate fashion,
Then rip of your clothes and start a riot.
Somebody told me I'd always finish last.
I figured out the soul proof here,
In the writing that we decorate ourselves in.
Black ink and whispy white text,
Lacing the vortexof the blank with a pure understanding.
We're here to stay, regardless of your wishes.
I don't mind. I don't mind. I don't mind.
I'm now fully submerged in the music again,
Fully submerged in my mind and the wisdom of the snake.
And when I step through and come out the otherside,
Something will have changed.
But do you have the courage to take the leap into the unknown?
Hold my hand and we'll whisper away the darkness.
And through the blinding fluro light,
We'll see the oncoming future and pause it,
Sudden change, sudden change, sudden change.
And we'll look back and rearange what went wrong with us.
And suddenly we'll be a part of the world.
But we're never satisfied this easy, oh no,
There will be much more of this before we cease to feel lost.
You're addicted, little rabbit,
And here's our proof.
Dance through the sound system, making love the chemicals in your system.
Watch the sky explode inside you.
Butterflies making there way across your stomach in a wicked two-step.
Last time I felt this free,
I wasn't created yet.
Fuck this mind to the extent of your abilities.
Here, the serpent garrisons.
He lies in wait for any disturbance and cuts of your head!
Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
I am free, as long as he is still a part of my imagination.
Seek liberation. Seek liberation. Seek liberation.
Here, the serpent sleeps.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Finding your way back to here

And just as I thought the serpent was dead, I felt its cold body constricting tightly around my throat, crushing. The headspin, vision blurred as my knees cripples under its hypnotic spell. What a way to welcome yourself back, I thought.

"Venomous voice tempts me, drains me, bleeds me, leaves me cracked and empty, drags me down like some sweet gravity".

Cold skin, encrusted with muddy stains. The needle sticks. As the calm frequency washes over, a waterfull cleansing your insides... Why do you forget about the outside so often?

I don't want to know. I don't want to know. I don't want to know.

The serpent warns me to go, but he reminds me I can never leave, his grip tight as he pulls me closer to the edge of the world. We forget the earth is a sphere, we forger that the edge lacks in existance. And so, suddenly, I'm falling, and he'll go with me, for I belong to him.

Gently pulling myself up into his coils, the soft skin a weak sort of comfort, temporary, but so fucking secure I could die beside him and continue to live. Closed eyes, and the fluro parasites march across my skull. Leftovers, Serpent tells me, leftovers from your travels.

I know I must believe him, for he knows all. Oh, you demonic reptile. Why do you always have to be so right? And why can't you stay with me longer? I need you to drag me down again, against the cold tiles of a bloodstained bathroom. Someones blood. I know who's, but he's too far away to care if I bathe in it for a little while. Serpent told me to, he told me it would cleanse me.

I'm watching you drown. I told you, to swim back. But you wouldnt listen! And so I am no more. I will wait. The fastest way to learn to swim is to place a hungry shark in your path, though I'm sure you are surrounded, they're just invisible to the human eye.

I'm not the demon, or the angel. I am not the human, or the snake. I am no more.

I will bask in the rays of light with you, because you tell me it is good for me. And you are always right. You demonic Serpent... Emerald eyes, cheap disguise...

I could think of you all day, write for you, though I do not know what you are. You appear in my imagination as a serpent, a serpent who understand LSD, knows all and is a scheming, yet honest companion. I do not trust you, yet I seek your company and guidance each day, and you dissappeared for so long.

"And the snake is drowned and
As I look in his eyes,
My fear begins to fade
Recalling all of those times".

Here comes the episode of lengthly regret, for now in this state of mind I miss the one I hated so much, I chose to slam my fist into his face. Here comes the episode of heroin. And thus returns the serpent, to guide me through these troubled times, through doorways in my thoughts, writing and dreams.

He will watch over me, for he knows all. The sinister little taunts do not bother me, for he will do no harm unless it is needed. I know this, for he told me so, and he never lies.

"You'll get out of this, little rabbit. In your eyes there is nothing, no information. You examined the objects in the grass and asked how much knowledge they contained, and was it worth it. You decided even if it were just a small dose of knowledge, it was still knowledge. And what I thought as I emerged from your eye sockets and used the glass panels as mirrors was... Was it me? You never will know, for what am I? I was created from the LSD, acted as a nightmare guidance, dissapeared through-out the simplicity... And here I am. I rotted away your eyes and fed off them for months, I'm here to give you your vision back. Now you will truley see. You fear me, yet so happy to see me, after all that".

I can only smile, for the demons... The demons are feeding off my heart, mind, body and soul, and oh, it feels so fucking good.

We're really fucking.

Saturday, March 14, 2009

You're wrong

The little rabbit. She's suffocating in the drible society spits, and she's forgotten how to swim. Theyre all in too much panic to help her out of the water and I'm scared to tell her, I'm not her teacher, her friend, her mother, her lover. I'm not as all-knowing as I sometimes feel. In fact, I know nothing about anything.
"Admit it now while you still can".
Okay, I'm an idiot, and a hypocrite, a manipulative bitch and a peice of shit.
"But that's not all".
Enough with the negativity, brain! I've heard slash seen enough in the past few days, Im quite content for now.


I breathed for him. I knew nothing of what to do. I was terrified, but they didn't seem to care. And I spoke to his semi-concious form as he drooled and twitched, choking, flailing. All I could do was shed a tear and suddenly, start hoping, praying.
So funny, I believe not in any form of God, and I despise science, yet I suddenly, though Im still aware of how much I believe NOT, always turn to one of the two in desperate situations. Does this prove I am insecure and need a higher being or an intelligent book to guide me through?
Maybe I'm unsure of what I believe in.
"Keep an open mind"
I am, I am, but at the moment I wish for you to SHUT YOUR FUCKING FACE.
Stop interrupting me!
I'm busy ranting.


A cold night, surrounded by silence in someone elses home, while he bends and twists between fluro lights and loses his previous state of mind to little peices of poison candy. He was waiting so long, I never waited for this. I didnt care for this, but nor would I care for beats of havoc and a diluted mind.
I want the enhanced mind, bring it to me. Maybe I'm looking to hard, and maybe LSD is playing tricks on me.

The heart-heart-heart plans on spoiling me the day I graduate from childhood and become a legal adult. Less than a month, but so many days til I inhale spirituality.

You may declare I'm not ready, but who the fuck ARE you but a flea?


The days are getting more pathetic. I watch her turn insane and I long to scream at them all, too, let them know just how fucking worthless they are. But I hold back, because I need them for a little while longer. Besides, as much as I hate them for being human, I love them. I couldn't express the hate without having to even it up again, so why not just shut the fuck up and it all stays how I want it to be?

Lets all accept it's coming. You can feel the change, Im sure. And so, you know something is going to happen. I despise the burning sensation in my chest and the slow on-coming of each second as it spirals down, back in to the Devil's pit.


And Im sorry I'm not a good listener. Im sorry I'm 'failing' to accept everything you've ever told me. But please, don't think I havent learned from you, from everyone. I just think I may be right about certain things, and though I'll consider what you say, the time my mind has to mull over a certain thing, I come up with far better points than you can in a few lines over the internet.
I know you feel that I'm 'getting there, just need to listen more'. I know you feel that you've 'all been there before, we're over that now'. But believe me, you were never at this stage, and I'll never get to your stage, for we, though some would disagree, are different people, seperate minds.

And though, as of late, I've found synchronization within dreams, you still can't see ME as I see me, and I will never see YOU as you see you.

You think I have nothing to teach? You think because my knowledge doesn't come from the books of another, that what I have to say isn't valid? Well, those books you study, the people who came up with those theories thought for themselves, at least to an extent. Sure, they listened and considered...

But... Well. I like philosophy, and if you cared to listen to ME like you so blindly listened to THEM... You'd see I do have something to teach.

You are no better than me. You are to you, as I am to me, but neither of us is right. Never just one side to the story, friend. Please try and understand I'm not as innocent, helpless and thoughtless as I may appear.


To sum it all up, shit is getting hectic. I don't wish to help or save anymore, I'm sick of being tossed aside. You do not want my advice/help, I can not/will not force it on you, and so, since the FUCKING MAJORITY RULES ( though its the minority thatcarries the ides), I choose to leave it and bask in my arrogance for a little while, then have a giggle at your stupidity, then realize...

Every time I'm angry, I think I'm right!

I'll admit to my idiocy again when I'm in a better mood.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009


The still sanctuary that you wanted so dearly to call home but never felt comfortable enough to do so. The unreliable friend who leaves you in the middle of nowhere with no way of getting ack to somewhere. The drugs you take to pick apart your mind.
"Do you really think by tearing up your brain, you'll understand it?"
Not anymore. But it doesn't matter anymore, because I've found a temporary stability in this insanity. It may not make sense to you, or me, or anyone, but I'm fairly sure that's the point. Though I couldn't be entirely sure it was the point for it would ruin the purpose and therefor, contradict the point!
Isn't it thrilling? Mind-blowing? LSD, anyone?
They keep asking me... What is it? I can not explain it to you, but everyone, yes, fucking Dr. Arrogant, seems to think it is simply a drug. It is not taking a drug and fucking yourself up, it is taking a journey of discovery. And it is comletely ridiculous to take these powerful things in to your system with the idea that it'll be fun. Because, though, oh, it can be, (how it can be), it wont always be.
The point of it all is to open your fucking tomb of a mind and let some light shine in! Quite literally, Im not being all cliche here, I'm talking about...
What am I talking about? That's right, I'm not permitted to know, and you are not able to understand.
"Do some fucking research".
A man named Carl Jung.
A man named Buddha.
A year of 2012.
Have you pictured it yet?
But anyways, lets move on from there because, let's face it, chanting on street corners isn't very attractive. (Fucking Christians).
However, anything beyond science is illogical and therefor, insane.
You know what? Fuck science.
Fuck faith, too.
I will wear my insanity with pride, or else, I will wear my brilliance with a smug grin. Either way, I still win, fucking losers.
Get in right, I'm in front, simply because I think I am. If I choose to think I am behind, I will know nothing. Though, I already know everything, I just haven't remembered it yet. Which, by this, I could be speaking of blueprints or else doing some warped thing with time in which all that will happen was a part of the past. Which, though it's hard to grasp, makes perfect sense when you think about it, since time is only a human creation and is easily manipulated.
However. Now I get to the stage of where I feel I am on a higher level, where I feel I must teach, save, enlighten. Where I feel I must frown down and make all the decisions. For no one can touch my intelligence, not a debate I couldn't win and not a situation I couldn't wiggle out of. I am untouchable, in my own mind, and as of this moment, I am the only thing in my own mind. When I leave my mind, I know someone is ready to prove me wrong, but hey, I CAN NOT BE PROVED WRONG BECAUSE I AM INFALLIBLE.
However, this goes against my own beliefs. Hmmm. 'Nothing is infallible, everything can be proved wrong'. So, in which case, I deem myself as nothing, which would mean, since I am nothing, I do nto exist and therefor, am untouchable. And, with my untouchable force, I can TOUCH everybody else, manipilate them in whichever way I choose.
Is there a mental illness for a person believing they are God? Or should I stop this hypocrisy and admit to my arrogance?
Oh, dear. I believe I have typed up an entire blog about my brilliance.
This is unnatural.

Oh, fuck.

Sunday, March 8, 2009

The little thing

It doesn't belong here.
Let's play hide and seek, like when we were kids.
But this time, the hider has to seek the seeker.
And somehow you find yourself seeking liberation instead, though that has nothing to do with childhood games.
Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck.
I hope this is how subliminal messages work.
Perhaps if I coated over the thick in italics and shaded it pale, it would work better, but I don't really care.
And somehow, you find yourself seeking something a little more ABSURD
Than the thing you started with.
But you know I always hated the taste of your ABSURD logic, anyway.
And now we'll read it backwards.
Still not sinking in, but I'm having fun with the
Melted characters anyway.

Simple as, NOBODY GIVES A SHIT about your AbSuRd, ObScEnE little orchestra!
So shut the FUCK up.

When it's all over, you'll look down and see the words in the sky, but they won't be there, they're just a part of your absurd....
Filthy fucking imagination.

And send it
To your little ABSURD, OBSCENE hell.

My logic is amusing me, now.
I'm watching yours buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurn.

Mister Man

Its starting to scare me, but its brilliant. Just a passion, a single passionate hope and POOF, in to existance.
Many times this past week have I experienced... A something. Theres always this something, whatever it is.


And to Mister Man.
Youre a cunt. I hate you so fucking much, I hope that hit hurt bad. And dont think it'll be the last one, either.
But, I love you a lot. I really do. I now need to deate with myself over why that is, since you go against everything I stand for... And since you are not here to argue with me. I do love our arguements, they're highly entertaining.
Fucking maggot and sitting beside the couch where you lay, begging for forgiveness, though I knew what the outcome would be. You did deserve it, you just didn't care... And you'd forgiven me the moment I forced us together in to a hug. You just wouldnt admit it because we need to argue, it's what this... friendship is based on. Our anger, hate, disagreements.
I told you to move over, so I could lay beside you, as you told me you hated me, that we would never be friends again. But still, you moved over and put your arms around me, and enveloped mine beneath your shirt, against your warm chest.
And I laughed, I couldnt make sense of it. But then, with you, I can't make sense of anything. It could've been you were just too tired to give a fuck, but I was worse of than you and I couldn't allow myself to pass the fuck out 'til I humiliated myself sorting shit out. It could've been that you were just being nice, but the idea of you being nice is the most absurd thing ever! We all know you're not very nice, friend/enemy.

Anyways, I hope that when I see you again, you'll demand a hug from me, like always, then proceed to insult my intelligence and 'shut up, bitch', then deny you told me to shut up, because you 'changed your mind'.

You're fucking weird, fuckin' metro hippy.

Ah well, it's nice to debate with someone other than myself. I miss you already.

Friday, March 6, 2009

Ignorance, please be infected

Should I feel guilty for the bird flu conspiracy?
I mean, only the night before I was told of it, I spoke with passion of my hatred for humanity and my desires to whipe them out. Then, I am informed that a vaccine has been 'accidentally' contaminated with the deadly bird flu virus, released into 18 countries by the American company Baxter.
Holy shit! Pandemic?
I'm rather glad.

Let it target the old.
Let it target those twisted cunts with no morals.
Let it target the people who always want to cause shit.

Most importantly, however, let it target the ignorant.

On the train, dummy in my mouth.
Fat cunts scratching their balls begin yelling it out to the blind and deaf, that yes, I had a pacifier in my maw!
Wow, you illiterate scum, I listened to you talking for about five minutes and realized that you didnt know anything about anything! Christ, you weren't even aware of your lack of intelligence!
Now, I couldve pointed the perfectly obvious out, but, just as everyone on the train already knew I was mauling a dummy, (unless they were the equally pathetic cunts you call friends), they were very aware that you were ignorant peices of shit!

Please, virus, please.
Get them.
They will never ascend.
What's the use of them?
Please don't tell me rude, foul, unintelligent cunts are worthy of life!?!?!?

Angry, now, at how low some lifeforms can get.
Shall fill my material lungs with some nicotene.

Thursday, March 5, 2009

End of the world.

I s'pose my beloved friend Jess was kind of pissed enough when I told her child to 'burn some incense, chill out and shut the fuck up'. However, I have my reasons, she was whinging for no reason. I asked her to do a simple thing and she told me she couldn't move, then told me to do a lot of things for her and it pissed me off. She needs to calm the fuck down.
I guess I just don't have the dealing-with-children thing anymore.
Anyways, I then decided to yell at little Lisa for wanting to watch a soap on television. I explained that she was being consumed by the media and having society think for her, and that she was such a whingy little thing and would never be able to manage on her own, since she craves attention all too much and can't lift her fucking ass up to do anything.
Yes, I said all this to a four year old.

Of course, the little bitch called up her mother. I no longer baby-sit, and therefor, no longer recieve money. Which is awful, because, at current times I really need it.
The kid I'm-in-fucking-love-with is in a whole lot of shit, drug-wise. He needs to pay up, or get fucked up. Now, I'm not a dealer, or a theif but the time has come, that, since I have two weeks to make 2.7 grand... Uhhhh. Unless I sell my body, lol. Which, no, I do not plan on doing, I'm just trying to improvize.


I'm trying to figure out where all the fucking passion went. Where'd the peace-loving, anarchy-driven, fire-fuelled hippy protesters go?
Not that I wish for world peace, because basically, population problem.

Its nice you want to stop wars, murders, suicide and abortion. It's nice you want to fix every fucking ill or injured person and not let them fucking die. Its nice you want to keep people alive long after their expirery date. But, honestly, what do you think you're doing?
Is it because you think human life is actually worthy of existing?
Dude gets hit by a bus, let the fucker die? No, repair him, because we need him. We need him because his family and friends will be saddened if he leaves, we need him to reproduce because there isnt enough people, oh never, and we need him because, simply, he's a person and WOW... it'd totally suck to lose one of those! Theyre so fucking important 'n' shit! Not like he doesn't have another 2 million exact copies!

Oh, and yes, I'm all for euthanasia. Why not? Old crippled fucks who cant keep their waste inside, cant remember any of their fucking loved ones for shit, can't move without heay assistance, cant have any privacy, cant eat properly, and you know what? Unsurprisingly, they want to die! But nooooo. Its a human, people will miss it, let's not let it die!
Understand this. I mean, I know its hard and all, but honestly. I'm pretty sure the earth, and people as a whole, are far more important than one person and it's minions. Pretty sure.
Wait, I have this fabulous idea. Let's continue doing what were doing! Let's memorize textbooks and call ourselves intelligent and pick a fight with anyone who thinks differently! Let's get in to science, and further down the track, lets invent something really cool and add it to the swarming list of products and technology that is so fucking important! Lets test on animals, consume drugs, and generally destroy the earth!

But instead of doing it sooooo fucking slowly, bit by bit, why not end it all of a sudden? I can't wait til 2012.
Youre fucking idiots. You dont want the world to end, for that would mean your death and oh, wow, my life is so important that the world will suffer without me and oh my God, the world is important because it supports human life and life is great because it allows me to either fuck up my health and mind with drugs and get frowned on, or live as a fucking snob, being all successful and raise a family and by items to make me happy!

I want to fucking collapse the earth.
It is not important.
Life is not important.
Especially not the hypocritical, destructive, angry, contradicting lives of human fucking beings.
And most importantly.
YOU are not important.
Never get in to that delusion,
ecause you are nothing.
And even if I like you,
Love you,
Care about you,
Everything would still be better without you.

I despise humanity.
Which means I must despise myself.
Only reason I haven't killed off this pitiful lifeform is because if I did, who would there be left to destroy the world and all the disgusting things living on it?

No one.
Because you're a textbook whore, a television junkie, accept what you're told and love life, what you are, have fun!

Good luck.

You won't survive this.

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

What's next?"

It's like a sickness, a horrible sickness that creeps up and bites, and kills.
The cure is a complex mathematical equation that runs on for forever.
The trap is a separate dimension, with locked doors and windows and all the acid demons.

I sit there, in a zone I despise, so uncomfortable with the people that surround. All parasites. Watch the seagulls lunge at the pigeons, thieving bastards. And it's all fun and games 'til the Crow comes.

Watch myself deteriorate under thick circumstances. Pretend to breathe. It's okay. You're fine, baby.

And suddenly I'm pouring confessions to beings little more than strangers, barely acquaintances, and they tell me I'll be fine, they have my back, they understand, I'm sane and healthy, perfectly normal, functioning perfectly. They tell me they love me, and at that moment I fall back and feel my fists clench at my side as they repeat the same bullshit as the one before them.

Like commercials, nobody really cares, they play so furiously on repeat. Taking up half your time, someone's money, someone's fucking life. Parasites. Commercials.

Fucking terrorists!

It had to be screamed, though it has/had nothing to do with the matter at hand, and I don't give a shit about terrorism. I'm not sure.

It's beautiful. He's beautiful. The cards told the truth, held hope. Past: Ran away from something terrible. Present: Reformation. Future: 'I will'.

He's mine. The jealousy, as he walked away with her after I'd been sitting in the black hole we call a park for half a day, waiting for him. It was intense, I couldn't cope with this cruelty, injustice.

But here I sit, listening to society break down and I feel it's time the world started a riot.

You think you're making sense, but all I hear is 'maaaaaaa'.

Monday, March 2, 2009

Sam, I think I'm dead.

That was when it would happen, and it did. I tried to stay with him, but he told me to wait for him, he'd be back in a second and he'd find me.
But he didn't. Instead, I found someone else, and we had our adventures, and he rambled on. "I'm trippin' balls man, I'm meant to be level-headed but I don't even know what's going on, man. Woah, what the fuck!? Fuck man, this is too fucking... Woah! Wait, wait... This way! Hold up... Where are we?"
But through the different pulses in the music, he began to scare me. I shuffled away from him, "What's going on? Explain the situation to me! No, really".
"We're fine, were sitting in the DJ booth tripping balls. It's all good, it's relevant to the situation, just calm down and listen to the music".
In the end, too far gone to make much sense of anything, Zach approached me and tried to make me understand there was nothing wrong with the drug, that I'd be fine. "You trust me, don't you?"
No, I don't trust you, or anyone. Off I go, to walk around in circles, looking for my demon, looking for his arms of safety to assure me I was going to be okay.

"I've been looking for you!"
"Ferret, I knew you would be, we are in touch, so in touch, 'cause we are the indigo race".
And so he continues to tell me of movement, energy, mind, matter, memories, knowledge, mirrors. "You're my exact opposite. See those stars? I'm in your mind, everyone has an exact opposite. You're familiar with the mind from body seperation process, right? you are just a star, reflecting me. Because you are me. And all those memories, you created them".
He began to ecome everyone and everything I'd ever known, and my mind began to compact down, down, down, almost there. And then, a distraction, and so that moment would never become and I would never see what he was trying to show me.
But I was so afraid.
"Am I dead?"
"Does it matter? We're only energy! Life, death, everything in between 'n' shit. We have nothing".
"I am dead. How long do we have to lay here 'til they come for us?". I s'pose I meant the soul collecters, or something. I couldn't yet accept the world I'd fallen in to. A world of repeatition, a horrible loop. I couldn't escape it, I was dead and it would go on for forever, a loop of nothing, how did I die?
"An eternity", he answered, as we lay down, him calling out to people that we had nothing, we were just souls left behind.
"You're not him", I sobbed. "Tell me what you did with him. I need him".
"It is me, but you are me, you created me. We are one, exact opposites. We will never be able to leave eachother, but we can't have eachother either".
And this proved true, as I tried to break away, walking away from the world of death only to be assured that it just continued, nothing to do, nowhere to go, souls scattered and left behind with nothing but endless circles of nothingness forever.
I returned to him, and he nodded. "You can't escape it, Ferret! See, nobody cares for us! There is nothing else, and it will continue until you realize! Feel something!"
But he'd taken away all feeling, as my head lolled and eyes closed, as the death of my mind called my body to join it. And then, Sam and Ash, amidst their own uncomfortable trip walked past, and I jumped up so fast.
"Sam, I think I'm dead".
He stared at me, shocked, trippin' face and I think I scared him a little. "You're not dead".
"I am, can I please, please, please come with you guys?"
But as the demon reminded me I had nowhere to go, the plan fell through and I was in hell again, with the demon of knowledge and power, the demon I loved and was waiting for.
And then, Armchair returned, and I fight occured.
Here it was, I could stay with me loopin' out demon of knowledge and probably die, or rejoin life with a couple of strangers who would tell me nothing but that they were trippin' balls.
I chose them, and as the memories suddenly once more became more than creation, as I exited the space of my mind and entered reality, slowly, but surely, I suddenly registered the truth of the universe, of life's blank and teh power of the mind, of creation, and I worried for my demon, but I couldn't enter the repeatition Hell ever again.

The hold in the morning, the ever-lasting "I'm sorry", "I still love you", and the realization of the truth was worth it all.