my computer is infected.
The next step, watch as I write these words, my the teeming with desire, my cock so long with threaded mirth. Why can’ I see into the future, these are the words of my mind, look into it look into the deep, my head so bloodied now all I want to see is carnage, this ranting rant, so valid in its demise. Rent this world to losers like me, the universe like a feather, 25, why does this number ring its truth, we’re so small yet so mindfully killing. Can you bleed? Can you get what you need? I just want to write but nothing seems to come to mind, these words so long have they remained, now you’ll see my mind its truth its menacing reparse. Would you want it though? Would you want to see my thoughts, only death would you find in them. Why can’t it come why is it bland, the sadness reach’s to depths that I didn’t know I had, so long a fall two mile’s long will I be caught.
DOUBT IT, SO FUCKING DOUBT IT. Please help me, please help us all, my eyes are closed, my craving is so low, I just want to live a little longer to discover our full potential.
I know I have no purpose. I have no will to live. Just lust and blood and hate and everything piled on top of that. I want to Live. Just want to live. These are the words running through my mind, through and through, maybe now they’ll have the peace I cannot attain:
Bring me down, can we not foothold our own demise? The universe a feather, number 25, so much truth within this method, is this what we wanted, who is going to take us out. I don’t think so, I really don’t, this is not what I wanted, this isn’t what I wanted, and peace is only so long achieved so long ago, maybe not even ever. Bring me down into the fire far below my mind is singing songs the transformation is complete, but the darkness has followed suit, its taken over, now I seek a way out, anything will do, I’m planning something stupid, this is the note, this is the notice the new will not air, this is the music that has nothing to do with it, no bullies, no fighting, I’ve always been liked, maybe I’m a little fat, but guns will come the metaphorical bullets will fly and blood will flow religious will glow is frowning bow.
These words just words, I need to learn how to play the guitar, I need to get laid, I want to be the feather, I want to be the number twenty five. I want to see the triad, the fucking triad, have I been lied to all this time. No. We’re really not better.
DOUBT IT, SO FUCKING DOUBT IT. Please help me, please help us all, my eyes are closed, my craving is so low, I just want to live a little longer to discover our full potential.
I know I have no purpose. I have no will to live. Just lust and blood and hate and everything piled on top of that. I want to Live. Just want to live. These are the words running through my mind, through and through, maybe now they’ll have the peace I cannot attain:
Bring me down, can we not foothold our own demise? The universe a feather, number 25, so much truth within this method, is this what we wanted, who is going to take us out. I don’t think so, I really don’t, this is not what I wanted, this isn’t what I wanted, and peace is only so long achieved so long ago, maybe not even ever. Bring me down into the fire far below my mind is singing songs the transformation is complete, but the darkness has followed suit, its taken over, now I seek a way out, anything will do, I’m planning something stupid, this is the note, this is the notice the new will not air, this is the music that has nothing to do with it, no bullies, no fighting, I’ve always been liked, maybe I’m a little fat, but guns will come the metaphorical bullets will fly and blood will flow religious will glow is frowning bow.
These words just words, I need to learn how to play the guitar, I need to get laid, I want to be the feather, I want to be the number twenty five. I want to see the triad, the fucking triad, have I been lied to all this time. No. We’re really not better.