P;AEO8R7
One day in my confines of my urinated on brain, I will live a fantasy. I will stab through porceline faces and dice up the eyeballs like granny smith apples with the same moist sliceing sound. Then they will be served on Wheat thins with slices of sharp cheddar cheese and tuna, if you so desire. After all that I won't be able to stop laughing, because I already AM laughing you see, laughing at the lot of you, all you people, all you fucking consuming shitting eating breathing sleeping crying people, hilarious humans, falling for my disguse amongst you, thinking for a moment I could be sunk down with fear or sorrow or guilt or anything human, you thought I could act humane and treat humanity like I was just that; human and humane and humanity...Your lives are being excavated back into a house with walls that whisper but it's best your existance is diminishing from THIS house, because THESE walls don't whisper, they scream, they scream louder than any damnation you've ever heard and by god how they do seep blood and tremble and quiver and growl and roar in protest when you dwell inside of them. There's nothing more fragile than watching the plaster getting peeled from those walls like a serpent...a gorgouse and beautiful and fucking amazeing serpent shedding the scales that have become too old and tight to harbor him any longer. Watching the plaster fall away from the cracks that would otherwise swallow you whole, your escaping the empty blackiness of the hallways and the squeaks in the staircases that only seem to sound like footsteps when no one is on them. I see that as a massive gain on your frontier, you can't coexist in this dungeon of modern appearence and benign light fixtures and sweeping brooms and soiled floorboards and drafty windows, you have to get out, leave this dark and haunted pit to my own devices so my faux sense of human life and my brilliant disguse of 'human' can remain unquestioned, and undisturbed, and without irritation or annoyance. Your swords and weapons weild close to nothing except the bristle of my hair to me, cleaning house is always a good idea and weeding out the termites from the woodwork is always best policy before they start drilling holes and leaving piles of sawdust which I just could NOT tolerate. I know that which is important, producing my venom and flexing my spine and curling around my brood. Cry, laugh, be happy, pretend to be happy, just do whatever helps make you feel human. I'm more than happy to watch through a lizard's eyesight and giggle when the door kicks you in the ass on your way out.