so here we are another day in the grind of ambition and loneliness. all these beautiful things are going to die and here i am making jokes trying to look into gods eyes and find what i see. the fascists are in control and it's our fault for letting the ignorant control the reflection, the one that lies to our face as we stare into the mirror. how can we help people when we can barely survive? or when the interesting and beautiful people we meet justly questions out intentions? the psychosis is deep man. it makes you feel like your the limo driver for death. his diamond rings and nonchalant fascination with things he doesn't understand but still we serve him rather then the life giving water we are offered at every moment of kindness. i ask him a stupid question "why do you want me to drive you around?" and he with his empty bone socket eyes stares at me and says "this is as close as you are going to get to heaven." i laughed defensively trying to make it seems like they love me. but here i am a unsympathetic-monster trying to reach out to the abyss and all it does is stare back at me letting me know i already understand. one of the four beast's said come and see and i saw. behold a white horse.
i feel justly convicted of my sins. i remember Kevin screaming for help as i crushed his nuts in my hand. as i knocked his teeth out and felt righteous doing it. his screams for salvation comfort me at night. one hundred million angels singing. i am a sick man but it is hard to kick against the pricks as they try to torment and their punishment is their own conviction. i will burn and i will suffer, this is the price of understanding. the madness the irrational information that confuses like a living labyrinth that sadistically follows every decisions with another anomaly. breaking bones and pulling teeth. screaming for salvation. i see the road surrounded in shades of darkness. the way it chooses to confound and i feel pity for my enemies if only because unlike me they have something to lose. but one day i woke up and their was a pale horse, and the name that sat on him was death. and hell followed with him. and in that darkness i thought if women cant wear yoga pant's in heaven, why the fuck bother. the end.
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