Poetry time

FUck you all.

"I am the push that makes you move."

'dont give a shit don't ever judge me'

Can't escape me. I'm the cobra veins that inherited the poison from my goddess.

I am the fucking Libra death triangle, the deadly circle, the Bermuda your planes lost.

"get this cuz your never gonna get me"

Today i saw a tatoo'd beauty. I told her she was the most beautiful creature I ever saw and walked away. My hearts already sold to another (dont worry ladies the other is music). *sipping 4 lokos after jager bombs and much beer, alcohol calms me. But it doesn't conceal me.

I will continue to harass those who have touched me but can't touch themselves, like burden bridges. broken bombs, bombarded barricades, barracuda blades.

"OH sinner man"

i love this drunken self, this non-esemtful full of passion no regret, no and later eating mother fucking.

Cross faded fucker.

I set two alarms because my unconscious has outsmarted me. Fucking personality disorder I've completely lost myself, but the crazy people around me are too scared to admit their own personality disorders.

love

this confession is meaningless

Vent

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.

get outta here

"I believe in a balanced diet with rigorous exercise."

My diet:

Blueberries, Ginger Ale, Nicotine, Pomegranate juice & KP.

My exercise:

A healthy dosage of masturbation, mental games, followed by doing laps around the house and exerting exotic sounds from my vocal cords - sounds previously only found in the deepest jungles of the Congo. I then proceed to music and writing. This is my exercise, exercising the brain.

I am donating my sperm to a Surrogate mother. She believes that my sperm in combination with her seed will bring forth lucifer. She is a highly intelligent devil worshipper, graduate of Harvard University (Straight A student), with a heavy background in Science and a family history of Black Arts. She shrunk my penis to prove her point, I believe it has helped decrease my ego tenfold, as I already had a small penis, but with an even smaller penis I have found myself experiencing Napolean syndrome, but it's not my bodies physical height that ales me. I am now in search of a large truck and I would like to own a couple big guns.

*The child is due to be fermented on a special full moon and the pregnancy will occur exactly at the stroke of midnight on 2012.

side note: Many beautiful women whom I neglected to appreciate in my past life have come back into my present life. I am blessed. Thank you.

Jahova

Welcome to the glamour, this adobe is my shamrock.
"Things I don't remember' slowly fading into memories.
I only have one love, a corset mineral I call Fran.
Beyond the capable. I am the available.
"This just isn't working out"
Piercing her belly button with a needle.
Etching vitamins into her gently.
"Turn Up the Bass"
Full of excuses, so many.
Run

Pretend to live so heavily,
Exhume the colour red.
Drive.

In the Olive Garden

I stole my wealth with Engine Nudity,
A classy gal I met the night before.
She stole my heart with ingenuity,
such a toxic frame....

I'm bent out of shape thinking about her Cuntnivorous ways.
Like a cannibalistic musical she devoured me whole