moments

now is the moment of my discontent. and yours too. god this blog is nothing. but i attempt to make it something and in these attempts while not looking i think i have created something that is wholely unique. i could be wrong but tonight i am not. the fall may be upon us but the vomit could rain down like absolution from the worst of sins. and it does, oh how it does. over and over, we throw into the bucket of our remorse. the feral ascendent is a magnificent manifestation of the worst thoughts imaginatible. nothing but morose sympathy for the fallen. pink cups and grey nothing, romantic fallacies. i'm sorry for ever believing that a pop song from 00 engaged my every notion of love. posters and celefane. koros. baka. words. warning; suffocation risk. i've suffocated. we've fallen from nothing and hopefully the pillows give us something to believe in.

i crushed a potato. without remorse. it had no choice. neither did i. it needed to be crushed, it bled everywhere. like nothing i've ever seen. blood everywhere.

to them we are certainly something

i need a job writing shit on empty walls, burdening people with epitaphs they dont care to read. if everyone inhaled and exhaled darkness and light, we could solve pollution by killing moral ambiguity. grey thought would not be fit for consumption, and therefore frowned upon. Everyone and everything would be alive or dead, right or wrong, ugly or beautiful, happy or despairing. is that a world we would want to live in? the would-be revolutionaries would be those that dared to be average, to not care, to express apathy as an emotion. but if it were not simply an idealogical principle, if physics itself restricted grey thought, than we would have to interpret this as the plan of g-d. there is no substitute for the will of g-d when actions contrary kill your countrymen. if morals existed, there would be no room for failure. there would be consequences of the death sort to all that infringe. a celestial prison state. what would be the purpose though? of killing free thought? the death of the feral ascendent. stand and be counted wolves of nothing.

friend and patriot

i cant help but notice that the carpet has grown 20 inches high. i lost my shoes in its folds and ripples. its not so different now, not seeing my feet everywhere i go. but i made a collapse to walk on and its treating me well. i really hope everything is going well in oklahoma. theres nothing here but rusted beer cans, lamenting their discardment, moaning in the wind on a patio i've seen. they speak like they know the greatest of secrets and have commited the worst of sins to learn them. i know the cans are full of bullshit because i've never trusted them. lunatics. nothing they could ever emit from their metal carcasses will change my mind. i'll pave my roads with their crushed and broken souls.