(no subject)
Life looking down the barrel of a gun is much different than life looking up it.
You see your prey. You see the fear in their eyes. You see the urine stains on their pants as they tremble in front of you, begging for you to 'spare them'. Why would they want to be spared? So the can go on living their useless un-fulfilling life, never amounting to anything. Reading there magazines that depict articles of those who have done something with the breath they've been given... Pathetic really.
You see a face of non wavering hate. A face that's been formed this way through the process of life's hardships. You tremble as you look up the barrel of the gun knowing there's a possibility that at any moment it is the last thing you'll see. A bullet could come screaming out and paint the surrounding enviroment with your textured insides. Your inner thighs suddenly feel over-whelming warm, as your urine seeps from your urethra without your permission. Staining the clothes your lower body is currently occupying. That doesn't seem to even phase you as you replay a single phrase over and over in your mind... "why me?"
Life looking down the barrel of a gun is much different than life looking up it.
You see your prey. You see the fear in their eyes. You see the urine stains on their pants as they tremble in front of you, begging for you to 'spare them'. Why would they want to be spared? So the can go on living their useless un-fulfilling life, never amounting to anything. Reading there magazines that depict articles of those who have done something with the breath they've been given... Pathetic really.
You see a face of non wavering hate. A face that's been formed this way through the process of life's hardships. You tremble as you look up the barrel of the gun knowing there's a possibility that at any moment it is the last thing you'll see. A bullet could come screaming out and paint the surrounding enviroment with your textured insides. Your inner thighs suddenly feel over-whelming warm, as your urine seeps from your urethra without your permission. Staining the clothes your lower body is currently occupying. That doesn't seem to even phase you as you replay a single phrase over and over in your mind... "why me?"
Life looking down the barrel of a gun is much different than life looking up it.