bleh...
blehh... here's the mildly artistic, mildly poetic fall out that comes after failing your english 10B midterm and eating a package of easy mac.
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The state of my being is worthless. It is a stagnant mass, a collection of cells functioning to consume and not create. It is neither aesthetically beautiful nor economically viable. I am a consumer, I produce nothing, I decompose nothing. I am a black hole, absorbing all matter that comes in my direction, selfishly guarding it for my own unknown purpose. I am as wasteful as the monarchies of medieval Europe. I pick and choose to fuel my epicurean delights, partaking in only the sweetest and most prime of all things. None of this do I deserve, but my desire is fueled infinitely by my own irresponsible greed.
I am the eight of the seven deadly sins. So deadly, yet so universal that a piece of me lives forever in each and every one of you in your every day lives. I am gluttonous, prideful, deceitful, outrageous and lustful at the same time. I desire your death. I desire the death of those better than me in any respect, the death of those worse than me in any respect and the death of those like me in any respect, for it is respect that I lack in my vacuous being.
I am fueled by sugar, by sex, by lust, by desire. I take your phallus when you show it to me, and introduce it to a yonic paradise; wet paradise between the two roads at an intersection of darkness marking the beginning of a moist sultry jungle where my Heart of Darkness will slowly destroy you alive.
No one can save me. I can only save myself. But my excess of apathy and sloth prevents me from doing so. No temptation can I resist, I indulge in those things only found in the Garden of Earthly Delights. I cannot be the Nike of Samothrace, I cannot spread my wings and fly off to victory for I have already failed miserably and will now succumb to living with my failures. Only death, the infinite state of dreaming, can absolve my worthlessness and rectify the wrongs on my behalf.
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PS I don't think you should take this entirely that seriously.
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The state of my being is worthless. It is a stagnant mass, a collection of cells functioning to consume and not create. It is neither aesthetically beautiful nor economically viable. I am a consumer, I produce nothing, I decompose nothing. I am a black hole, absorbing all matter that comes in my direction, selfishly guarding it for my own unknown purpose. I am as wasteful as the monarchies of medieval Europe. I pick and choose to fuel my epicurean delights, partaking in only the sweetest and most prime of all things. None of this do I deserve, but my desire is fueled infinitely by my own irresponsible greed.
I am the eight of the seven deadly sins. So deadly, yet so universal that a piece of me lives forever in each and every one of you in your every day lives. I am gluttonous, prideful, deceitful, outrageous and lustful at the same time. I desire your death. I desire the death of those better than me in any respect, the death of those worse than me in any respect and the death of those like me in any respect, for it is respect that I lack in my vacuous being.
I am fueled by sugar, by sex, by lust, by desire. I take your phallus when you show it to me, and introduce it to a yonic paradise; wet paradise between the two roads at an intersection of darkness marking the beginning of a moist sultry jungle where my Heart of Darkness will slowly destroy you alive.
No one can save me. I can only save myself. But my excess of apathy and sloth prevents me from doing so. No temptation can I resist, I indulge in those things only found in the Garden of Earthly Delights. I cannot be the Nike of Samothrace, I cannot spread my wings and fly off to victory for I have already failed miserably and will now succumb to living with my failures. Only death, the infinite state of dreaming, can absolve my worthlessness and rectify the wrongs on my behalf.
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PS I don't think you should take this entirely that seriously.