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I am here to make a difference. Isn't that why we're all here?

38, Male

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Let There Be Life

Posted by nietzlawe - May 10th, 2021


Feel offended? Wait until I pull down your fences and start some tense shit. By taking 10 shits in yer flowerpots, but it will take hours coz I'm constantly pated when eating salmon. Then I write almanacs while dodging alpacas. The odds are all stacked against moi. So it's time to up the stakes and play dirty, even as I approach my late 30s. Everything I do it ain't working. Reverse psychology. Ygolohcysp. I may as well revert to reverse psy-Alcohology. And go back to the old dayz of writing verses, day and night, frightening the life outta nurses, even though I'm a touching person, I usually say what is right. I'm forever cursed to be a burden, a useless eater, maybe I should use less eateries, and starve like Lee Marvin... who never actually starved. It was his heart. He was the Serge in the Big Red One. Wig Wam Bam, I'm a little crazy, but deep down I'm a sweet man, with bitter hands. I wouldn't hurt a fly... Not when I can massacre 500 of them in a single night! I'd have massive acres of fly gravestones, saying 'here lies, many crane flies.' Better than dumping the little blighters off in drainpipes or a lay-by. "Are you insane, Ry? Maybe you should go and get laid. Then sneak off before she gets paid!" Booyah! Man, the CCP have so much CCTV, the CCP can see me pee even more than Jesus C! The joke is on them! Bloody voyeurs! Why are they surveilling that boy, what about that girl? Why don't they annoy her! I Joke I Keed, I hope, I Leeve to see my 93rd birthday. Not really... who wants to get "old" old? And linger longer. I'd rather go back to being an infant, and have Ivanka tinker with my Tonka. This world went insane and I thought I was the crazy one? But I ain't going around jabbin' innocent peeps! ... Not without boxing gloves. I ain't ruining livelihoods, even though it might have been deemed likely that one day I would. Ehhh... I've never spilled blood. Never harmed a soul. Except when I spray tadpoles across this carpet and walls. But most of the time they just leak out the tap. This shit is out of my control! People came to see this cunt while he's on a roll. And be this blunt in nature... this ain't no publicity stunt, I'm not a demon or a faker... in action, this is a chain of thoughts lazily wrote in morbid grainy tones. A crime of passion. This prose, is like a savoury gravy boat. And the right for freedom of speech, for which some have bravely fought. And on that note, its time to go back to being No Holds Barf... It's what I do, the patch-eyed one... when I write, it's like I'm shooting. But what I don't do is sit casually reading Catcher in the Rye. I can differentiate between wrong and right. I can leave emotion on the pad. I only free write. I don't need to physically force them on the slab. Although I've been known to throw caution to the wind. Leaving metaphorical throats cut, throwing bodies to the ocean's fins. Let me just clarify things more clearly - that's "NO" real cut. And no fins. I still haven't grown up, just found a suitable outlet for my thoughts, coz if I didn't I'd go nuts. I'd lose my mind like I Pet Goat. And I'd have to kill - my pet goat. Nah fuck that, I don't believe in barcodes, in my world, codes are barred, and all my scars are laid out like an open heart, I'm either organ harvested, or pinned all over some TI charts. The whole nine yards. Can't change tack this late in the game, gotta play satan to sate my pain. I ain't no saint. But everyone around me ain't so sane. From Presidents to politicians, and celebrities to your own damn neighbours. Anyone can be dangerous and turn traitorous. Human beings are infinitely sketchy, and make me edgy. But now the world is waiting for that saviour, the nobody, to bring them hope and that glow back to their bodies. Instead of the brainwashing and odd modifications. I've tried to keep my sanity intact. It's better that than in tatters. I'm used to living in a fantasy, but the fact is, it's been a shock, like crouching down and sitting on a cactus. I ain't interested in no gene therapy. The only Gene therapy I'm interested in is watching See No Evil, Hear No Evil. And talking of blindness. I saw a video recently that said a loser born every 10 seconds. When really it said a laser beam every 10 seconds. It's crazy how we primates have changed, and lost our communal mind states. Now we're divided, divisive, controlled by our electronic devices. Instead of our natural primitive urges and vices. I just wanna throw my TV and phone in the bin, and roam the open fields. Clock up the nautical miles just to get away from these awful times and 5G yield. What is there to do but jerk off and spurt lava to pert breasts and slurp lager? Whatever happened to that majestic spirit that I could at once summon up in a minute? Now my body, it feels like there's nothing in it. Maybe it's the lack of motivation? Maybe it's a sign I need to ditch my phone, and reclaim the position that was once my own. Stop being an automaton in this autocratic state, and deliver what used to come to you naturally in an automatic way. It was like the most awesome magic, being able to sum up what was most tragic, but in a fantastic way. Maybe that's beating my own drum, but at the beginning when I was alone, numb, it felt more fun. It was new to me, now it's not as much fun as it used to be. Now I really am a useless eater, dying, crying out to be hit by that meteor. Give me freedom, or give me death, so I can wake up in that Garden of Eden. Not just sat here eating dragon's breath cheddar. I've already reached my zenith, my best. There is no future, run by the computers. Why should I scan a QR code just to commute? Life will never be what it was like, and they're trying to make the next generation more zombified. Living through pipes. Like guinea pigs, permanently supervised. Life is for living, but the youth are being euthanised in spirit. In truth, I'm livid about it. I feel like shouting it from the rooftops. "Fuck Operation Moonshot!" Things certainly are fucked up, it's like people are drugged on murti bing. "Let's drop a few nuke bombs. And please make them huge ones!" Just waiting for a new Pink Floyd song: Another Kick in the Balls. Why not Red Floyd, why any Floyd at all? What about George "Magazine" Floyd? Georgie Porgie Pudding and Pie, had a fire pit, where he could bring his own steaks to fry! It's taken time to get my bearings, I've gone past caring or feeling scared. It's time to skirt on the edges of Certifiable Insanity to recapture my sanity until the Rapture and financial collapse. Perhaps we won't live to see such damage and people acting so savagely. Maybe the world will be inherited by autistic savants and the savvy ones that haven't worn face nappies once. Who will inherit this Garden of Eid? Mubarak? And lay the seeds for a new world free of greed. Where people are just free to Be. Instead of being hounded with unfounded rules. We're surrounded by fools all around us. It's like a sea, a pool trying to drown us. But I stand tall in the face of this purge, more resilient with intent to produce brilliance, to step over this Berlin wall and surge forwards. I've barely even started to further my goals, but before I leave this ball, I'ma show that I at least, have balls. I have a calling, during this cull, to crawl towards the light, then stand up and do what's right for all of human kind. Seeing is Believing, as I weave in all these jigsaw pieces. No more tiptoe. Time to create my triptych. No more feeling sorry for myself, time to rip out the stitches. I feed on oppression and needless aggression to confront these problems and address 'em. I learnt a lesson that words are weapons that can literally usurp a Wesson. And sometimes I feel blessed that I am able to use them to relieve my stress.