Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Expensive and Sticky

'Expensive and Sticky'
It's costly and I hate it.

So it's that time of the year when brightness blasts the chill from the air like vile missiles sent from the ass of love.

So there's hot chocolate with marshmallows, like syrupy puke from a monster's round, gluttonous belly. Candy cane rainbows blot out the hollow stares of those who are best forgotten. Why let their meager want and hurtful ignorance dampen your spendy holiday?

So I hear the songs, but not the warmth. Carolers chirp like songbirds, sending happiness to someone who has none, cannot find it, and cowers from it. They sing to a broken, crumbling wall and do not see it. They don't want to. They sing for their own giddy sense of worth.

Being expensive and sticky means it's time for alcoholic detours through a land of smiling want and feigned charity. It's a land of snow and warmth covered in Christmas-colored gang green. It kills you because it can.

Sunday, May 13, 2012

Grotesque and Coddled

I'm amazed you even know how to breathe. So I see grotesque things. When awake. Sickening masks hide sickening behavior. Drooling smiles hint at the awful impulses waiting behind the teeth. Chirping birds don't make beautiful music; they vomit war. So much for being coddled. It's not worth the pain and degradtion to want. The cold hands of Mother Nothingness pamper my fat ass. Her touch is a symphony of reality's horns, gunshots and whimpering pleas for some non-existent betterness. I'm not grotesque and coddled. You are.