23 March 2011
16 March 2011
15 March 2011
02 March 2011
01 March 2011
Praise god I feel incredibly destructive.
I want to burn bridges and sever ties. I want to collapse then fences I have mended. I want to flail around, destroying things I have worked so hard to create. I want to bang my head against the wall in frustration. I want to injure others. I want to throw your kindness right back in your face. I want to mock what is important. The more others don't curse, the more I fucking want to. I want to be childish, throwing temper tantrums wherever I see fit. The more you plan, the less I stick to it. But I hate the impulsive nature of the non plan. I don't have a plan. I want to self destruct. I hate what you love. I love what you hate. Fuck peace, make war. BORING! FUCK FUCK FUCK BORING!! IS EVERYONE THIS BORED?!? DO WE HAVE TO MAKE BORING COOL AGAIN?!? I must bore others out of their skull with my predictability and stupidity. Self centered egotistical asshole. Again and again and again. Maybe that is what pushes. I feel my mother's side of the family in me, stubborn and selfish. I feel my father's side, quick tempered and isolated. Put that all in the pot and pull out a fine american mess. Maybe this is what he felt before up-heaving everything. It would make sense. Ahh fuck it.
Who knows? Do you? I sure don't. I can't find a thought in my head that makes me want to. Is that what all this is? An attempt to destroy? What would that accomplish? What are we trying to accomplish? Does anyone care that the uphill climb leads nowhere? Are we climbing up a volcano? Years of hard labor to fall into a pit of despair and death. What are you going to do about it? What am I going to do about it? It is easier to destroy. Not to say it doesn't give the same rush of life. But fuck it man, why climb and climb and climb when I can trip others and laugh about it. I can cut their safety lines and watch them fall screaming into the dark. I can stomp my feet and anger the volcano. I am the Samoan god of death and chaos. I will incarnate your fears and frustrations. I will make life harder for you. I will torment you for the rest of your days or at least until the end of the commercial break. fuckit. Who am I kidding? Myself? You? God? HA! Stammer Faulk asked that and ended up buried in a shallow grave with a snake and cheap whiskey, chest collapsing, struggling to breath under the oppressive weight of his fear.
She exists in the eye of this storm of destruction. She is immune to it which is only by the grace of god. She is the only thing I am sure about. All the rest can burn in a fiery shit hell. Hallelujah and amen.
I want to burn bridges and sever ties. I want to collapse then fences I have mended. I want to flail around, destroying things I have worked so hard to create. I want to bang my head against the wall in frustration. I want to injure others. I want to throw your kindness right back in your face. I want to mock what is important. The more others don't curse, the more I fucking want to. I want to be childish, throwing temper tantrums wherever I see fit. The more you plan, the less I stick to it. But I hate the impulsive nature of the non plan. I don't have a plan. I want to self destruct. I hate what you love. I love what you hate. Fuck peace, make war. BORING! FUCK FUCK FUCK BORING!! IS EVERYONE THIS BORED?!? DO WE HAVE TO MAKE BORING COOL AGAIN?!? I must bore others out of their skull with my predictability and stupidity. Self centered egotistical asshole. Again and again and again. Maybe that is what pushes. I feel my mother's side of the family in me, stubborn and selfish. I feel my father's side, quick tempered and isolated. Put that all in the pot and pull out a fine american mess. Maybe this is what he felt before up-heaving everything. It would make sense. Ahh fuck it.
Who knows? Do you? I sure don't. I can't find a thought in my head that makes me want to. Is that what all this is? An attempt to destroy? What would that accomplish? What are we trying to accomplish? Does anyone care that the uphill climb leads nowhere? Are we climbing up a volcano? Years of hard labor to fall into a pit of despair and death. What are you going to do about it? What am I going to do about it? It is easier to destroy. Not to say it doesn't give the same rush of life. But fuck it man, why climb and climb and climb when I can trip others and laugh about it. I can cut their safety lines and watch them fall screaming into the dark. I can stomp my feet and anger the volcano. I am the Samoan god of death and chaos. I will incarnate your fears and frustrations. I will make life harder for you. I will torment you for the rest of your days or at least until the end of the commercial break. fuckit. Who am I kidding? Myself? You? God? HA! Stammer Faulk asked that and ended up buried in a shallow grave with a snake and cheap whiskey, chest collapsing, struggling to breath under the oppressive weight of his fear.
She exists in the eye of this storm of destruction. She is immune to it which is only by the grace of god. She is the only thing I am sure about. All the rest can burn in a fiery shit hell. Hallelujah and amen.
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