Wednesday, February 10, 2010

A noose of blood to stop a life of hope

I am not disabled, just inabled to not be the empty-eyed man. Just a rose trapped inside an unopening fist of rage and hate. I am beautiful like an unending explosion and am spontaneously perfect. Like the demolition of love.

I don't need a god.

Being alone is the perfection I seek because its all I can handle in this Sub-Human life when I know I'm more than you regular Humans. Luckily, I am so fraking hard as Hell and can take all your bullshit minute after minute and year after year. It makes me so tired, so worn out and I can't seem to get enough sleep. Doesn't help when I get it though. I'm not meant to leave this storm, I am the storm.

Try to destroy me, just try. I like hard things, I welcome your feeble attempts.

Your all just dried out drums made from human skin and tied to ribs of a broken child you dumped during the Prom.

I rejoice in your deaths. That's the only thing you can do right, but not correctly. The more of you die, the more of me there is to replace you, the faster this world evolves from your Media controlled minds and bodies.

I think, therefore I am dangerous. You don't think, therefore you are controllable.

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