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...and the three-headed Beast said. "There shall be Light! And for those who are weak, punishment awaits.". And the earth was covered with blood of the Innocent. And we hid high in the hills fearing His wrath.
Unfortunately I was late for my meeting with the High Priestess and had to come back some other time. Guess I wasn't cut out to be a Saint anyway. And there were far too many hummingbirds around.
Remember the shore? Remember the junk behind us? Remember the Fear and the Dream? Remember the Old House? I guess I should feel some kind of emotional nostalgia, but strangely I feel nothing.
Deeply disconnected from my physical self I refuse to deal with a social reality, choosing my own hallucinated universe over the real one. The result is extremely satisfactory.
Resolved to eliminate my memories so I can make a new future for us. (By that I mean the whole human race, since I consider myself a new spiritual leader of the wicked and sick.)
Since my return to this place, things have changed so little. I wonder if it is me that changed, since I cannot notice any change in this environment. Somebody is lying to us.
It is like lighting your cigarette with a propane torch. It does the job, only too well.
Carved in a tree trunk somewhere in the forrest of bad ideas. Trees cannot survive without water, so I pray for the rain to stop. I hate trees.
Little bees all over my face, little bees inside my head. No brain but soon I'll have loads of honey...
We had a sister but she drowned. We tried to save her but it was too much fun just to watch. We miss her now.
The new generation should be defecated upon. And by that I conclude my confession. Sorry father for I have just sinned.
It is all going to be lost anyway. We might as well give up right now. Or is is already too late? Maybe we should have done it months ago? Who knows? I just hope I can pull through in one piece.
I guess there is a smarter way of handling this problem. Too bad I cannot see it right now. Might have to switch to alternative source of energy.
... hoping to touch the sky. I am sick of being able to come up only with cheap one-liners. I am sick to the point of desperation. Am I desperate? Am I really sick? Learn to enjoy loosing...
As a kid I hated the Circus. Nowadays I fear it. Who knows what the future will bring? Am I the next bearded lady?
And loathing is all mine. Too often do I find myself confronted with this Fear. Too often do I yield to it. Maybe it is time I shove my foot up his ass. Or maybe I should find another excuse to leave it for tomorrow.
In this blue and grey world I miss Sasha. I try to think inside the box, but my mind doesn't want to obey. Effortlessly shifting from one realm to another I find myself confused and lost. Who is this strange looking savage staring at me?