I just want to listen to music through the headphones of the globe, I'll mix their screams with the cries of laughter. I'll cross over from obese greed and drown it in tragedy. I'll take one shot to a building and ignore the millions of bombs we drop to compensate for our more expensive lives. I'll bask in the glory of being able to eat the African families weight, malnourished and all. I'll parade around in clothes I don't need, expelling exhaust. "everything i could say would feed into insignificance"

Welcome to my Journal. IGNORE GRAMMATICAL ERRORS, or become my Editor



Loud thoughts and insomnia. Drunken words are the best. Sweet and sincere. But like the climax after a nice ejaculation, the orgasm you will never know, it has all passed, it is over. In more understandable terms, it was a necessary bowel movement, releasing the last of the toxins from the body. Now healed, us children must move on. Satisfied and happy.

Immature? Passive Aggressive? Lazy, maybe. Just the order of a writer. This is my place to vent, my journal, those who frequent it only proves one thing...

aside: Sometimes you just need to scream into a pillow, punch a wall, I don't do that. Some people rather hold it all inside and then unleash it in a post office. I'm an open book. Read it.

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