I paid for your confidence, in cash, and now I am stripped with mine, which I paid in death, together, I paid for everything in cash, death, dignity, and you made a fool of me.
My dream is to live in the house of anti-christ, will you come with me? I will stab myself to death, or I will swallow all the pills because I don't know how to start a fire, or maybe I do. I will do it when it's convenient for everyone, so you can attend my funeral, I am scared of being lonely, I admit, I do all sorts of stupid moves when I am drunk, I cry no one will attempt to solve my enigma, so what? Texas, maybe, that will be a good time, fuck all the BxT selfish bitches. We are all here to make a fortune, and won't it be a fortune if a T cannot analyze its fucking self? (because my xxxxxand would rather fxxk x xxxxxr) I tried, didn't I?
Understanding Tee and Meowgu
An attempt to understand the multiple minds of this person through daily activities, routines, encounters by means of recording through the use of this blog. The successful rate of fully understanding and the ability to comprehend this person is still yet an unknown factor.
Confirming.
Confirming what your fears are. Betrayal, reveal, lies, hurting, stabbing, it hurts most when your most treasured, your deepest fears, your nightmares, comes to life. Am I scared of ghosts, hidden shadows, thoughts grabbing my throat, sneaking in the dark corners, no, because of love. Now that there is no true love, when you know love only lasts one hour, or was it thirty minutes, when your dick was in me, what is it beyond that? What am I frightened of then, my prayers to god, I believe, can you give me strength to move away from the things that hurt me? To walk this way alone? I can, please help me stay strong.
I love you, for the rest of my life.
I love you.
The morning dew gives off an enlightenment, almost falling off the tip of the leaves and it hangs, crystal like, shinning, hopeful, then it shakes, and all has fallen. It was never long lasting. It was just a moment, of nothingness, of nothing, of not-a-thing. The end, since it never even occurred.
Confirming what your fears are. Betrayal, reveal, lies, hurting, stabbing, it hurts most when your most treasured, your deepest fears, your nightmares, comes to life. Am I scared of ghosts, hidden shadows, thoughts grabbing my throat, sneaking in the dark corners, no, because of love. Now that there is no true love, when you know love only lasts one hour, or was it thirty minutes, when your dick was in me, what is it beyond that? What am I frightened of then, my prayers to god, I believe, can you give me strength to move away from the things that hurt me? To walk this way alone? I can, please help me stay strong.
I love you, for the rest of my life.
I love you.
The morning dew gives off an enlightenment, almost falling off the tip of the leaves and it hangs, crystal like, shinning, hopeful, then it shakes, and all has fallen. It was never long lasting. It was just a moment, of nothingness, of nothing, of not-a-thing. The end, since it never even occurred.
This and that and this and that. I re-read and found out what has been faded. It was stronger, than, nothing. Past "fool", past "castles", past "beginnings", all the cards which have been forgotten. The phrophecy, the irony, the imbecile, and the imbecilic me. I still remembered when she said the word. I still remember when you spelled the word. I still remembered. How uninteresting it gets when I don't even try. I don't try. And. It's. Just. Ends.
We devoured ourselves with our immense love (and so we thought at that time) oh how deeply we drown free falling into this jello-like liquid sinking into a hole of unknown darkness with sparkles lighting up our thoughts covered our minds mesmerized our souls sold to the lovers at that moment in time. Our pupils dialate our hairs flowing our breath tender and perplex we fall into a trance state where all else is black like the well of the ancients and so we call softly to our lovers and we draw out our hearts with bare hands handing it to them hoping in return of some warmth we beg until our knees bleed our foreheads crack open oh how we long for the return of some warmth.
It's simple when they hide in caves and chewed all those ancient plantations making the sensation appear and spitting them out inventing shadows appear like ants at work, wolves howling, fingers grabbing and dragons spiraling. One hundred million years later, we crawl on all fours and grew up walking on two limbs and we have been inspired. By the blood spat out, by the tiny gaps you katzenjammers have squeezed through to paint those chutzpahs made from dollops, we ponder and ponder on why the fuck you did that.
Review and analyze. Review and evaluate. Review and look. Review and review. Eyeing all the captured and eyeing all that has been accomplished and completed. And then conclude. The details of scars, hurts, bloatedness, puffiness; the detail of wrong shampoo, oily hair; the drunkenness, the up-turned eyeballs, the flips of lips, the pretend of nothingness. Great job. *SNAP* *SMILE* here we go again. Don't want the emotions? It doesn't involve emotions. Just smile or the food: sashimi, homemade, rich, dense, bubbly, condense, healthy, organic, fatness. The people: eating, smiling, faking, hugging, contaging. It's ok, we know, what happened, how it happened, and the details of emotions leading to the concreteness of the evidence.
hey you know you know, i wasnt done with the eggs. there were still the perserved lemons in the corners there. here we go. deep fried rotten lemons. ketchup lemon cheesy sticks. cow intestine fed lemons. fellatio lemon suckers. lemon for fungus growth. lemon for cancer patients. swollen lemon inserts. hallaluah lemon bibles. lickidy yah yah acid C juice. lemon Es. lemon Acidic stamps. Enough enough. dead lemon wins.
Abandoned places, trashed, used, sorrowful, lost, ancient, broken like the ejected lung, like the lost minds, like the suicidal thoughts that lurked in the back of your mind which never subsided.
Then the day appeared where every thought solidified as real as the sensitivity of your scar. The exisitence, the omnipresence of pain, the descent of the enduring fallenness. We shattered into pieces then we rose once again as a fragmented vase, as a fragmented ashtray, as a fragmented urinal. Then poke. We shattered once more. As easily as we fragmented. But who cares.
Then the day appeared where every thought solidified as real as the sensitivity of your scar. The exisitence, the omnipresence of pain, the descent of the enduring fallenness. We shattered into pieces then we rose once again as a fragmented vase, as a fragmented ashtray, as a fragmented urinal. Then poke. We shattered once more. As easily as we fragmented. But who cares.
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