Best Kepp quiet, You don't Listen To me anyway.

Nov 14, 2005 11:42

It begins... like a creepy, looming sensation, tearing at the back of your brain... the pure terror of it all, the realization that this might finally be your end... that here, in this moment, you might well fuck over and die, and no one would stop to wonder... but all would stop to stare. I quit. Everything. Slowly, I am beginning to realize that $7.00 just doesn't do it for me anymore... nore does laboring school days and meaningless tete-a-tetes with idiots and freaks who don't know shit anyway. I'm my own damned idiot freak... I don't need it from outside sources. What I want are quiet nights poised over the burning pen... what I want is not of Earth. What I want is a plague that will surely, as all other desires have been, cause my frightful tumble into revolting defeat. My stamina is lost in cheap clothing and expensive meals... extra tips for the waitress at Hooters with the sweet ass. Slow death for me, hunched over a plate of hot wings and fries, eating my health to shit... smoking my lungs to dust, bitching my mind to insanity. Dear God, I have destroyed your temple. What will you have of me?

You're gonna lose and it's gonna show...



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