MONDAY: Experiments on humans
Deep Fried Frank Sinatra, Aug 02, 2007
I was in a walmart today, respectively shoplifting, when they
announced they where giving away free knifes, i had a moment of so
this is how i'm going to die. Staring into the most perspective abyss,
a pokemon puzzle set, thoughts such as; this is way to big to fit in
my purse, i could totally make earrings out of this... began to fade
as dawn dies perpetually. Then the barons of mundane consumption rose
to violence. Stunned, the horror I felt, as they marched white eyed,
nude glossed mannequin tactical dream material, they are the
architects within the structure. They hummed as the true radios would;
accepting the feed "Would you like fries with your shame?"
Satisfaction* within greed measured quantity and quality. Spectator
kill." The question. The answer. The context.
Now surrounded. Rocking aisles, they where going to kill me with an
avalanche of plastic based product... and i deserve the respect of
flesh. I dart out of the now tumbling toy section and manage to snatch
a t-rex to be used as a weapon. The children are the first line of the
attack, they will soon be fully grown into standard tragic moralists.
They fight poor in elegance but well in rage. Scraped knees and
bicycles is all they have left now. The women merged as one by the
will of a man. Its eyes bled mascara, breast betrayed by the falter of
youth in blood coated high heals. It screamed. Echoing from within my
very own bone structure, I began to walk towards it. No longer could i
forget its gravity. The pull is too weak, i fall.
Falling, I realize the rift is a delusion, men women and children are
one in the same, now i can defeat the beast, flesh's greatest
advesary and martyr, itself. Rise, I forget all i used to know the
mind becomes empty yet full on the moment. I smile and speak "The
individual is the real problem." This time though, the men cried the
loudest and were the only ones to be heard, they sung "Children don't
cry, women don't panic, men left to drown out on boats!" I reply with
hesitation "Labeled prisons of hate, organization and love. I must
destroy you as one, as though these differences are applied to be
accepted and rejected, not born, but grown." It ran on hate a
by-product of fear inc. sometimes the best thing to do is run, far
away.
*(inTrue non satisfaction and so the vicious cycle continues).
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