terça-feira, 29 de novembro de 2011

Fellow Writing

Fuck the World, fuck the Earth, fuck the Space, fuck the fucking Universe. I'm tired as hell, I'd sacrifice my own mind to give this shit a whole new existing and living concept. Who was the asshole that invented "distance"? Fuck no, it wasn't God. It was no one. Distance is apart of every living dirt. I need to wreck something, I need to fuck something up, I need to build a wall of bricks and break it with my own damn head, or mind. I need to leave this place, I want to run away, hold you and never let you go! I'm frightened of my own thoughts, they're so scary sometimes that they even keep me stuck in the self-loathing crap. It's so fucking stupid and unbelievably painful to be far away from the one person we most love in our lives. Not being able to hug her, kiss her and just see her smile is just so...unknown and, at the same time, one of the only things that I actually know in this shithole.
A slut yelling, a driver crashing, a smoker burning, a drinker falling, a couple cuddling, a murder happening, a flaming soul intoxicating, a brain dying, a whole life gone as fast as 7 billion people blink and cry. In my nightmares, I'm an assassin, a masochist being, a burning torch wishing to burn things up, a flyer rising and falling, a worm getting stepped on, a slayer revenging animals. My insanity doesn't have limits sometimes. I just don't give a flying a fuck about what people demonstrate, show or say most of the time. I'm a lighter silently lightning the closer and killing the younger. An elevation of my unique crisis kills and buries the ones who try to shut me up.
I sure as hell love you, my love.

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