will it ever end? it entered me last night while drunken in torpor and deluded beyond faith, seeped through the skin adn filled me with a deluge of blood and it, its feelings, its need its truth...
"if it numbs me, maybe...."
but it doesn't. i suffer for it in the morning, and my head fills with its terrible pain. it doesn't help, cuz i'm still too conscious of them around me, and their eyes looking somewhere else. the needlessness.
its uselesness its
uselessness its
uselessness
i
make my weapons
make my weapons
make my weapons
take the hold...
but why can't i escape it? it was so easy beforre. it made everything seem sensible, made sense, and now its dull, black and slippery. somnambulist as always. slick and verminal. the pack lord squirming like some free born reature of night and dark, lathcing on on pulling, down, up to the left, execute the move, and you lay bloody bent and happy on the floor, or is it?
what do you really want in this world? is it peace and quite? is it the sleep of the ages? is it truly the full appreciation of what is happening around you? is there anything happening around you that is different? is anything really true? or really ignorant. are you truly that fucking ignorant.
you'll let the militia rampage through your door like some suck puppies the hoods appearing all at once and then you become the victim, that you always were, photo shopped and unreal. or will you fucking fight?
can you actually really raise your fist? can you do it? can you scream praises to the omnissiah and at the same time bless someone else's name, curse him with your hands worship with your mouth, banish yourself with your mind? be the truth of humanity? do you embrace the beast? wendigo that you are, or do you praise the docile cyberpet, stroke it feed it play with it till it blows THE FUCK up. oops ran out of batteries.
what are you...? realize it before i tear you apart.
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