Walking In On Broken Thoughts

Puking into the bucket that is an anagram for thoughts once thought. It becomes too much of a hassle to explain everything when no one is listening. A plastic veil hidden behind us all. A wall built up tall. Thinking has only gotten no one anywhere. A thought, a moment in time, a feeling left behind. Broken sentences lead to broken thoughts. We are told that grammar is important, necessary even narcissistic. When you’ve been able to keep up so far then we may be one and the same. Such a sad day. The pain of the dragging razor makes all of this seem okay. When none of it could ever really be that way. The repeated anal penetration was fun for a minute, but now there is too much tearing and it’s starting to hurt.

Life still has many more tricks left up its sleeve, but I have to admit I don’t have any more compassion for this shit. An endless loop of all the things that I will have to do later today. Maybe it is time to switch to my knees. Begging for mercy while taking it from both ends. They say God cares, answers prayers, but how could anyone ever know until the end?

A suicidal mission with little sense of fulfillment. A cautionary tale to not believe all the bull shit presented to you. The words become filled with lies the more you read them. The more you worship them. The more you know I was right, but you’ll never see that, that wasn’t the point all along. Fuck God and fuck you for making me say it. Condemned myself so you’d understand. Condemned myself to have an excuse for all of this.

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