6:59 p.m. - 2003-02-25
still an alcoholic
its comical how we try to make these gestures of biblical proportion in sentences too small to be called fragments. so instead we call it poetry. and who knows what it really is, who cares, we write because we die. yet we fully believe in transience. i am slapped with the contradiction so hard my balls hurt. while other's hearts swell with the same realization. and as much as i want to be proactive and empathetic. make a difference, make my statements. change. i am a hardcore nihilist. i dont just read the words, i break my teeth on them, i choke on my own blood because of it. so yeah, william burroughs, im a straight guy and id suck your cock. but we're different, and that lusty pedophiliac convergance of testosterone - might leave one of us dead in mexico. neither of us apparently, have great aim. and the difference matters when? maybe thats for jahwey to concur. because our birds will always fly south in the winter. and my intolerance for your flesh, because it is so aptly human, might kill me.
