‘i,i wanna go, i just have to, i…i…i gotta rushaway’, she said…i remind her melodrama is only good with soap, and then only to a specific subsection of the public, and then only during the daytime….anyways…. this change that’s been feeling me, it dosent the pain fade, there are only big differences these days, but yet,we only have the same ways to walk away at our disposal=duritz

caveats, inherent to their nature and purpose, usu come after, being creatures that covet comfort, but fuck strunk and white (writers know who the fuck these O-muthafuckin-Gs are) but CAVETE*** if I were asked, what are you rebelling against, my bone marrow would diffuse the clichéd and ironic answer,….;”what the fuck you got?’ thru evry poor, every vessel; my body w2ould find itself inclined, not a single fiber exempt, interstitial fluid would provide the bass line….society no longer bothers me, and there is something intrinsicly wrong with that…but i digress….***cavete; the longer thiese linesz proliferate out into the void of the dead that walk among us,the drunker i get…..i dont give a fuck if mr. anymous knows the deepest cracks in my foundation….fuck him, and may fuck begat those who are stupid…no stupid dosent cover the scope of it, but my limited vocabulary hyexes my words…allow me to expound upon absolutely fuck all…… fuckl those ignorant, foolish, insomniac tragic depressive death mongers, abandon all hope, those who walk upon the toxic l;andscape of the banal evil of these trivial, paper thin, fragile words, bred by lack of forthought….if god had a suggestion box, if god made housecalls, if jesus drank beer, and if he came back with porkchops, and no lawyers….justg the EEls if there was a comment card available, a how’s my driving sticker on life, a please take a moment to fill out this short survey so that we can better serve you next timeif I could wish every star out of the sky, I would wish that I could once again be the fool, that I could flock to folly often, and find great pleasure within the bliss of ignorance I am shackled to a life that wants to settle, I hesitate, but still i turn away…I am stalking irish madness, I turned in my application to become apart of the nation of Prozac…..so it’s official, I am no sunbeam, jesus wont return my phone calls.hoping to procure the means to be considered as ‘light’, I pursued other avenues…..there was one night I did meth…shit, bathtub meth, shake and bake; for those of you unfamiliar with the term; ‘shake aND bake’ is to meth as ‘boones farm’ is to alcohol, I am inexepireanced in this particular field of illegal intoxication, so, as expected, there were some left turn on this particular downward spiral (side note; I love graveyards, comfort harkens me; the clarity of death leaves an aftertaste of awe; and it grows within me, like a virus, infiltrates like kudzu in the south) I called her, confrontation dripped from my pores, my tone and candor inexcuseable……I said…..I said….how could you let him? this is London calling, must be some interference, I couldn’t possiblt have heard your retort correctly…you say you didn’t know? you say you love me?…..there is a gun In my hand…it is well oiled, the trigger burns to be touched like a ‘beard’ in a 40 year desert marriage…..wait for it….here is the punch line…