veritasthe yearningof truthi searchto findits so fleetingi can grabits essenceits shadowbuti want its bodythe body of truthit's whole beingand i want to dig downto its coreweep into its poresto its skulldown its spineand cry outits secretandlet it crawlinsidemeinto my skulldown my spineand let itconsume mefrom the insideoutuntili stop breathingleave my bodyand becomethe truth
feed meI want to inhaleyour energymouth to mouthithealsmy sorrows as ibreatheitout.let me drinkyour gazeswallowitwholeyour strengthfills upmyemptysoul.
hungerthis is a different hungerthe kind wherei acheit's a thin sheetof anxietyof unsurenessof futureof purposethat spreads overmy bodymy mindi am awakein aluciddreamand when i try to remove the sheetmy body wont listenmy limbs don't movei am trapped insidemy mindandmy bodyand the sheetand i acheand the hungereatsme alivewhile i laymotionlessmy mind screamsmove,goddamn it!get up!but it is too latea tearflows down the cheekof my dead bodyit is too late
breathing is secondarythe tap water is too coldto rinse the ice from my throatand the chill from my lungsbut what does it matter, whenthe birds in my ribcageare all flying, up up upand through my skull,and falling, down down downand onto the floorlanding in front of my feet,the same ones thatstood me still in the snowand wouldn't let me leaveto find somewhere warm.
the worms of Avalonpenumbrali was not before but now; i amquick and quixotici threw an unlikely feast for crowsbut only the fossorial showedfrom dark, chthonic holes preparedto eat themselves to deathand in a single breathdissect the messthe monsters wearand live in mandate stridulationwith the titans that they fear
the human syntaxmottledthere are carbon copies walking the streetscut/and/paste people whoderacinated from scriptured roots rarelyever realize that history is always unfolding right before themor that somewhere in the bubblingooze of their jurassic hearts a pasquinade has sprungan unintended flood of reasoningtonguesand merry mutants will come out to playin scorched supernova shadowswhile predation in the bio-mass[has]reached its all-time lowestas shown in graphs designed to demonstrateindemonstrable conundrums
.not too much moreicicles in the desert.whatever you give me,give it to me undivided.thank you for your quintessence:"if you're out of ordinary,you need a refill."
Me the NothingThere is no meAnd there is no youThere is nothingWhat our minds createdThere is no spaceFor our forged projectionsBodies are but vesselsOf mindless activityNothing I thinkIs trueNothing I feelNothing I perceiveThere is no oneIn my empty brainMy pseudo-personalityIs my biggest vanityNo true meaningNo one to hang on toThere is nothingIn my subjectivityI can talkOr I can walk awayFree of consequenceFree of the world aroundI can dieOr I can live foreverNobody can see meAnd I barely see myselfShades of happeningsSimply pass me byFlow around my bonesAnd my false reflectionAnd the silence screamsFor my fake existenceWhere anything is realIf I picture it to be
from here to christian apologyin the end i break my teeth on the cyanide almond.the capacity for evil is trivial and irreducible.it is a rock in the bloodstream,it tumbles in the purifier and never gets out.no you can't wash this out. you can scrub & scratch yourself into a corner through little transgressions.they say loitering on the edge heightens one's sensesto things like pastel bricks of scarfwork & liquor store workers who remember your name.they say hanging up on scam calls will cost you an earthquake. is this an earthquake?what little love there isslinks gently like a beanstalk wilting on the steel fence.no you can't wash this out. some of us wanted the jungleon our terms, and that was the mistake.you play fair or never at all.
border control hazing protocolreached the border control of an unspoken citysashimi-grade flesh turned inside outprobing fingers leaving dints time can't handle on its ownyou have to keep balance once the highways fold:the examination by buckets of rain;took a left turn on that highway past the 24hr minimum wage slavesbade a longing farewell past the last known signpostsurrounded by shades of red carmine/ venetian/ rosewoodman-made neon fighting out a spot against dark liquid once the roof finally collapsesunder eastside raincast futile spells to reverse the water,you have to learn to absorb the blows time can handle its own
Dig inDig inTo reach what is insideDeep inside whereBlindness is consuming youPull it all outThe worms that feed self-pityThe pain and the liesInflicted upon your soulDig inAnd filter hate through lungsBleed it all outAnd let it burn your skinWhere it hurts the mostKeep damaging the shellRedundant is your veilRusted by transparent tearsDissect and disassembleImages willingly hiddenBurnt into your faceFrom beneath the skullDig inAnd touch your darkest fearsDeep inside whereNobody can feel them
SynchronyBelonging and complianceBe one of the undeadThe model behaviourThe infectious suicideBy daily resignationThe repression of willBroken in the processTraded off forA silent discomfortWidely acceptedShut the voicesDeep inside your bodyImages fabricatedInject them intoYour starving eyesShut the voicesThe turmoil in your heartStagnation is progressDeeper towardsAll-consuming nothingnessDeath from the insidePlastic skin on worn-out bonesDisabled and connectedInto the commonDegenerationA sugar overdoseAsphyxiation with pressurePraised self-mutilationPoison-fed organsTick in synchrony
the fruitsilently burstingripewith nectarforbidden tonguestaste thissweet sinit is the truthbutknowledgeisdeceitdon't let herfool youdeathlies beneathher sweetfruits