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WORK OF HEART
Peace out? Peace in, like tearing apart this blog and trying to piece it together again like some weird jigsaw.
Mouvre along, nothing to see here except the Louvre, and Lucifer's loofers which incidentally stink of incidents best left unvisited, like exhibitions featuring Exhibitionists that have absolutely no inhibitions and gyrate in sexual positions for the purposes of the camera. The lens never lies, but it does take footage of people lying down in the Lions Den, having sex, but they don't want their current partners finding out. I'm cheating with Chi Ting, cute Asian girl that needs things, like Citizenship. But I welcome all Denizens, we're all Netizens and friends again. Free world, One Continent. Without that, it'd be a freak world with a lack of competence. The ultimate racism is in having country borders.
Fingers more brittle than Boney M. Why keep picking on Boney M, they don't have a bone to pick with you.
More freedom than Pussy Riot letting out Pussy Farts while in incarceration. This farce. Worldwide BluTag, Gulag, you lag behind Ron and the 17 thousand midges that he can fire from the palm of his hand at will, and HE WILL, if he's pushed by Ste Pusher, who is the main man in the wheelchair still using MSN, in the days of Sky and perverse PE teachers that will swallow today's youth and sign the Death Knell Certificate, then give it to Kate, who then ate it. What a fucking waste! It took me 34.55 seconds to write up that document, and I documeant every fucking word of that Nitrosoft World shit. Clocks go round, buzzards, dukes, strange strings that bring ominous tensions, the Council of Foreign Relations, too much plotting, too much modern tech. wrecking the woyyyld. Like shoddy Merlin, barely able to contain my myrrh in a giant Doggy Bag made for a lot of sweaty heffalons like Hugh Hefner as well as the Seven Thai Brides for Seven Brothers. How Convenient! Just enough brothers and brides to fulfil a whole orgy of new age donkey rides. Ride on Sister, never so much as a flicker of emotion,
Technology will be the death knell of humanity.
Time for another dalliance of mentally and chemically unbalanced thoughts that slip through the nozzle of the kettle, or like a genie in a bottle. Just when you think you have seen it all, with blogs bigger than the Great Wall of China. But you didn't even read it all. These words are the cure, the Apple Cider. Let the tart taste reside inside ya, the overwhelming feelings of calmness might surprise you, and remind you that better times lie ahead. Confident strides, instead of being trampled on like Stryder. You've never shied away from a battle, don't hide and wait for the Cavalry to try and make the chattel break with the cattle prod.
Write your own chapters instead of sitting trapped in this sad land of cliched scripts. Google or Facebook? The answer is neither, If they forcefeed, then bite the fucking hand that feeds you and tries to lead you into this land of trench fever. Ugh, I heave from the stench.
Like EA getting the licences for Madden, its saddening to see this new regular disease happening. Roll out the fallout, till people fall out and we all have brick walls around our houses to keep us from shouting to our neighbours. How's this benefitting humanitee off times at the local golf resort? When the gulf in class has never been more far apart. He has five carat gold, you just have five carrots that have gone mouldy. In fact I'm still surprised you're even holding them. CarROT, you canNOT eat them without a pot of frozen yoghurt, which hurts on the way down like falling on a playground as you lay down crying. Sobbing, unstoppable flow of tears met by an immovable chin. This blog is crazy.. but too meaningful to bin. They say write to capture thoughts like a camera does. Forethoughts, notepads.. tore those, rewrote the scrapbook. Its worth a look, a peep, fuck.. I need to see! Bewildering piece of meandering literature literally slandering these people peacefully. A bitchy obituary, but it leaves you in stitches. Don't mourn the dead, They are more toast than brown bread. Poke fun at those with a big gut and a round head. You can use provocation Nietz, as long as its in moderation.. geez! You go over the top, and sometimes you don't know when to stop. Agh, come off it, that's a crock of shit, what about me? I've put up with a lot of shit in my life too. For me, writing is the skylight, the highlight of my day, so don't ever tell me what I can and can't say.
Fuckers are gonna get a hockey puck shoved in their puckered lips. Ironic how you say I suck at this. 6.10 in the AM, time to write more Mayhem, flay em, play em at their own game, get shat on and spat on, but still sat with a fat knot. Spaz out, born and raised in a madhouse, my Dad dies when I'm a lad not even out of high school, being bullied, what will I do? Nothing because I'm insecure and shy too, you think a hot girl just gonna fall out of the sky dude? A life screwed up, too fucked to move up the ladder, without a father figure. Here, bite down on this stick of bamboo. That'll help you release your rage, I only wanna hear what you can do, man you, just need a little encouragement and inner strength to stand you in good stead. I'll admit its been hard to cope, when you were drunk in the flat and saw that bedsheet as rope for your way out. 2005, never forget that year in a hurry, then another five years sitting in the dark, on park benches at night pondering life, watching the wandering stars, sombre as rife surrounds and swallows me whole, infinite mind, torturous intricate thoughts that implicate, but never indicate the direction. Only complicate the situation, yet I've reawakened my connection with nature. I may just insulate my mind with impetus and let my impulses be my stimulus from here on in. Instead of the impotent incidents surrounded by villainous ridiculous retards who think they know whats best for me. Fuck em, swim in the fires of hell, cunts. Nietzy knows what's best for him, and its time for Nietzy to do what Nietzy do.