Make Out City

They asked me if I’d ever spent days awake… if I’d ever thought I had powers other people didn’t have… If I thought I could do things other people couldn’t…

Art is worthless,
without a large large number of throats.

Ants thrumming in oxygen drums. The buzzing of three billion? Now, how many. Infinite numbers of insects drilling holes in themselves, tunneling home to nowhere for the sake of
Iforget which I wanted…
the bullet
or its power
the gun
or its revolution
the chamber
or its
solace
I frustrate against myself
I think now the greatest experience of my life was reading, neigh, listening to the audio book ‘A Scanner Darkly’ by Philip K. Dick.
I try to picture him as a human being.
Not an idea.
Someone I can lie beside.
Clasp hands with.
I have no pride sometimes.
Love is a disaster film with propellors coming out of the screen.
People hacked to death against plush royal purple red cushions.
I kissed you in a movie theater once.
We were intangibles like jujubees origins of Gods from planets that had no
revelation as some dumb words on a page.
But something that lived in our veins, I-swear-to-you-
you will all die alone.
You will work like a slave.
You will end in the dark
behind eyes
with no name
Never known any place
no memorys
nothing,any,longer,safe.
You have wasted your life.
You gave nothing. You GAVE
We have slept while we offended.
Pull the curtains down
smash it all in the face
I WOULD DIE TO END THIS DISGRACE
dON’t YOU SEE
THERE IS NOWHERE TO GRIP IT
ONLY OUR HANDS MEAN ANYTHING TO TODAY
No building has anything to say
No cubicle knows a thing about grace
right angle? not the same… not a future
180 million miles give or take
from here to the sun and back
It’s not a race
It’s not
important
It’s silly, and sunny
and we’re all laying beneath it
dying
of old age
despite all my rage
I love the smashing pumpkins
I think it’s a cool name for a band
And if you can do ANYTHING
for me,, for anything, for anyone, for yourSELF
don’t be ashamed
My heart is blaspheming God to his face
and I love everything I see
but I can’t touch a keyboard
without spilling my rage
and just begging
do it you motherfuckers
I hate you
If you’re not desperate

you’ve never seen

we can’t use you

You’re living the american dream

and we’ll never wake it up

so its dead on its knees

stop yourself before you kill again

Tags: anomalous materials, clearly you're not a psychopath, I'm sorry, obviously you were gambling, too blev

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