Ass to mouth, muzzle to breech...
What is this burning, itching sensation inside my mind...is this gonorrhea of the soul? Who did I pray with to contract such an unholy blight? This is really killing me...this is the kind of irritation that can only be properly scratched with a 12 gauge shotgun.
I won't die alone though, that would be too selfish...how can one hoard such a wonderful gift as non-existance for himself? Suicide is a choice, the best choice...it's a choice to stop making all other choices. Let me choose it for you too.
Whenever I start thinking about my imminent self-destruction, I start thinking about my father as well...I'm not sure why, but the two always seem to go hand in hand. I've been thinking about him alot these days, the original madman, mechanically insane. I think it was from him that I inherited my particular brand of psychosis...when murder and suicide are the favorite topics of conversation around the dinner table, something tends to get...ingrained?
I try to conquer my demons, but should they be vanquished who would be left standing? I'm a shadow held up by ghosts, there is not a shred of substance in my being. I'm tired of willfully swallowing all this bullshit, I'd much rather by force fed broken glass.
Life has stopped fucking me in the ass long ago and is now fisting me with both hands. I'm just so wrecked, I can't even believe it, don't want to believe it, I just want to roll up my eyes and believe that I'm dead...
I won't die alone though, that would be too selfish...how can one hoard such a wonderful gift as non-existance for himself? Suicide is a choice, the best choice...it's a choice to stop making all other choices. Let me choose it for you too.
Whenever I start thinking about my imminent self-destruction, I start thinking about my father as well...I'm not sure why, but the two always seem to go hand in hand. I've been thinking about him alot these days, the original madman, mechanically insane. I think it was from him that I inherited my particular brand of psychosis...when murder and suicide are the favorite topics of conversation around the dinner table, something tends to get...ingrained?
I try to conquer my demons, but should they be vanquished who would be left standing? I'm a shadow held up by ghosts, there is not a shred of substance in my being. I'm tired of willfully swallowing all this bullshit, I'd much rather by force fed broken glass.
Life has stopped fucking me in the ass long ago and is now fisting me with both hands. I'm just so wrecked, I can't even believe it, don't want to believe it, I just want to roll up my eyes and believe that I'm dead...
posted by thyfleshthraxus at 6:59 PM
6 Comments:
Does it burn when you pray?
Seduce your demons.
Or, become a monk.
Or, simply go to Thailand and help those who truly know suffering rebuild their lives. They haven't given up. They'll save you.
join the army... become a comedian...
no... become a junkie... i dare you dare you... (no need to fight, throughout the night, never a frown with golden brown...)
You realy wanted to be fucked in the ass? It`s highly overrated.
Hi, Indi. Oh, no you don`t alienated me and sorry, for the confusion.
Was just a fun for me.
Bangbang- Glad you're back, I've missed you.
All agreed on the overrated, I'm guessing.
In defense of Thyfleshconsumed, it seems he'd wish life would leave his ass alone, entirely.
He'll be fine once the sting subsides.
Hey,ja realy!?
You`re nice.
And I hope Thefleshconsumed suffers on (not realy), so I can leave my empty bullet casings.
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