you really are not the beast you think you are
At 6:45am Leonard woke. His wife was still asleep. Leonard's routine was simple. Piss, teeth, shower, coffee, dress, shit, kiss the kids, leave for work. Today, however, he didn't need a shit. At 7:30am every morning Leonard left the house. But today he left at 7:25am. The walk to the bus stop was easy. To the end of the street and a few hundred yards along Primrose Avenue. The 73 was always on time. 7:45am prompt the bus would turn into Primrose and lurch to a halt. Leonard was always first in the line. Today he was second. He didn't care though he did want to know who the young man was that had taken his place. Smart, suited, slick hair, 20 something. "I hate buses," he quipped. Leonard loved the bus. He was a closet hippy and detested cars and congestion. It was 7:43am. Across the street a skip sat in the road. The house had been having an extension done for weeks. The bricks were in place, a door had been slotted in. Now it was the windows. Leonard watched as the bus turned into the road. Coming the other way was a glazier. The sheets of glass were strapped to the side and roof of the truck. 'Geez, he's going too fast,' Leonard thought. 'Good job there's no kids about.' The bus driver fainted. It was no accident. The glazier truck driver had misjudged the skip and the bus. He hit his brakes hard and a sheet of glass escaped its lash. It cut the early morning air with some grace. Leonard watched the whole incident. He'd only just finished thinking about the weekend. Daniel's birthday party. Dressing as Batman. The kids jumping all over him. It was a glorious weekend and Facebook relished it. The glass flew. As it sliced clean through Leonard's skull the glass truck driver looked up. He heard something and vomited. The man sat next to him vomited. The young man in the bus queue fainted. Leonard collapsed. A split second later his brain and upper skull landed on his twitching corpse.
oh please, everything you say is pure rot. poor people are the dirt on my shoes.
i suppose that was my fault too
not today you useless wretched ugly cripple
please let me out it's so damned dark in here i need to leave and breathe and feel human. the wretched. the wretched. one of us wretched.
Just a fucking mutant. Spastic mutant. Look at you you utter wretch. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. Loser. As if she'd want to be with you.
I am disgusting
You are so beautiful
Take it. Just take it. I've no use for it now. You saw to that.
oh you know it. you know who you are. don't think we've not seen it. we've seen you. you cannot hide. this is your face.
wretched. pointless. empty. but the sounds are sweet. so sweet. so heavy, intense, sweet.
i'm falling. it's a long way down and i'm falling. no control.
just.out.of.reach. but what is it? is it real? why? why me?
there is no shame, only pleasure. don't let shame have control. shame has no place. shame has no hold. for pleasure free yourself of shame. freedom is the ultimate pleasure.
Oh god. Oh dear god. What the hell have you done? Why am I being punished like this? What did I do? I hope that you are happy you fucking wretch. I hope that you are truly one happy fucking deity. Ruler of all. Ruler of all. Who are you? Look at me. Look at my fucking state. Look at what I have become. That's a piano you can hear. My piano. I'm not playing it though. I can't. I have no soul. That is the piano of the below. From the depths that you've sent me. That is not my voice.
is it so bad? really? to be like this. is it really so bad? what do you see. what do you see when you see me? do you see enough? do you see what you want to see or what is really there? is it really.......
"Oh god. Oh god. Please. I thought you were broken. I thought you were useless. How can it be... oh god." Never believe everything that you see.
my love for this beautiful woman.
that beautiful moment
i love it when i'm told how to feel. i love it when i don't have to think. i love it when somebody tells me... i love it when i'm told what i should want or should do or should believe. fuck you. cunt.
everything's fucking american everything's fycking american fucking american we're all fucking american gotten kinda pussy ass motherfucker sonofbitch fucking american turning american wannabe kissmyass do not understand a fucking word of it
to the death
don't stop. be you. i love you. you smile, i smile.
i've stopped caring.
nobody knows what i live with. nobody. i don't care.
you're letting him get away. you're letting it get away. take it. grab it. don't fucking lose it. you will pay. you will surely pay. what I can't give you, you need the most. what I can give you, you don't fucking need. live. live, cunt, live.
this is a story. read it like a story, not like a dick. you dick.
so fucking bored of normal. so fucking bored of normal. so bored. so bored of you. so bored of your clothes, your hair, your voice, your car, your house, your sundays, your damned life. you bore me. you bore me.
i'm so sorry
the melt. the deformation. the loss of perfection. the suffering.
Feeetus! It's a fucking feetus! Look at those claws. She wants. She needs. She claws for everything she can get for her feeeetus.
yesterday i was a mess. which is funny, apparently. today i'm not a mess. which is also funny.
it's easier to drift around the edge of reality than swim against its tide. i want so much more than i have but that's not my problem. it's society's problem and something i need to learn to adapt to or reject. i need no more than i need. to hell with commercialisation and materialism. to hell with more, more, more. be content. be happy. be peaceful.
have it. just have it. i have no use for it anymore. i'm no longer the man i once was. trampled and left to rot.
how dare you be happy
'what is your problem?' What's my problem? What's my FUCKING problem? You have to ask such a dumb fucking question?
She pushed me away. I can live with it. She's beautiful and I adore her but she pushed me away. There are few women so truly beautiful and finding a replacement is hard. But I'm a soldier; trained to fight against the shit of life. I will fight and she will come. Like a beacon from the bright, intense light of the future. She will come and I will be waiting.
I listened to the old hag as she packed my fucking bags. I listened as she commented on every fucking item from the basket. I ignored her questions. I left.
Identity. I am officially nothing. Empty. Void. Vapour.
Anxious? Really? Why. Just why. Thank you DOG.
Survival of the sickest. Outrage.
I'm a creep. A weirdo. What the hell am I doing here? I don't belong here.
survival of the...