Wednesday, February 29, 2012

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Monday, February 27, 2012

This is where it will end...


It's been almost a year since I was sent away after my last entry for mr. kann. What does that mean? Does it mean away inside your own head or away in the literal sense of going into the hold? Transferred? Well I'll tell you............it feels like a beat of a drum as my heart pounds away, down that road of life and into a gutter that was narrow, filled with dirt, grime. Acid filled up around my testicles as I sat in the HOLE. Yes the black hole known as the center of hell that only Dante knows. But I feel as if I am approaching a level that has broken through the membrane of flaccid tissue surrounding my soul. Broken into pieces, shattered beyond repair as the medics rebuild it. Torn by teeth of truth, this flesh burns with the forever knowledge of brutality and pain.
I am the sun that beats down on this mother of which she is called Earth.
I am the deaf following the blind through this skirmish called life.
I am the flick of a match as it descends to the watery grave of a muddy puddle filled with the dog shit from two years ago.
I am the piece of pie cooling on the window sill.
I am the blade of grass we cut and feed to our animals.

Traveling through cosmic time known only as the decimal point era. The causes are unknown, but knowing your enemy, a fly you cannot catch. The little bastard eludes you-then when you think you have him cornered, out smarted and surrounded-you lunge, causing collateral damage in your space. BUT do you succeed? NO, you fucking fail and that dung eating 100 eyed cock sucker rears it's E.coli suckers and comes back for vengeance as you lay there with a cut across your brow. How dare he lands there while you're unconcious. Filling your blood with poison from a 1000 beasts-flowing into your highway of arteries. To your brain. EATME.......DRINKME........

this is what he is thinking, laughing at you, you fool- grace was never one of your strong points. Now you mr. kan are the prick on the floor, bleeding from your tender wound-I will feed off you until i can make it back. telling me I cannot be alive within the confines of my mind. your wrong.