I don't fell like writing or beng judged. I don't feel like judging, catagorizing, demoralizing the people around me. I can cure my disease. I can't kill your demons. I want to create, not hate. Art is a form of beauty released into the world that trys so hard to be policed, but constantly screams to be released.
As the words flow into the data eating machine. As the mind and eyes are overwhelmed. As the sound contionues to pound at the doors of your concentration. As everything unviels itself. As sight fails. As sound deafens. as tastelessness becomes substantial. Every day night falls dripping in the amber dread of the life it bred.
Irrationality is inescapible but can be channeld into a flow of words that allow your soul to be heard. No i will not be allowed to fall forward onto my knees. waving against the thoughtless wind i wish for life to be something more. I can not allow ignoble thoughts anymore. I want to delete this, my past, and the present of which i am choosing to show you this. Undying bliss kiss my lips. Lieing lowering living i am saving sacred service for future fertility enliss mutiny seeks to destroy the claims of beauty that are right fully furnished by unblemished people allowing their thoughts to flow freeliy not caged or enraged or ordering orders at all animals in their path trying to direct a merciless bloodbath fed by lust of undying greed that wants to feed a nation built on the ealaborite lies that become ties which will drag us down. Frowning down upon a race that is the same and seemingly vastly inferior to those that would shut their ears to the jpleading and bleeding screaming being that are no longer their own.