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If you have a problem with me, my number, 619.715.7378
I challenge you to speak to me. -
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The name that was given to me is "Daniel", and I am convinced that I do not exist. -
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Really happy that no one uses this medium anymore. At last it feels like it should writing here, the way it was meant to be. Words, feelings, and actions cast adrift on the ever expanding net of the anonymous interweb. My mouth is dry and my bladder is full, probably indicating diabetes or something equally insidious. Another problem, in all ( Read more... ) -
Met a man today, this is what he did, this is what he told me.
He sat deep in gloom restlessly contemplating upon the toadstool of his existence, contemplating suicide, attempting poison ( Read more... ) -
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The shit is a transformation of energy, as we understand it, yes. I suspect food to have a greater sentience than we might be aware of. The food goes in, and it fails by transforming. It is imperfect, and it cannot hide its imperfections from my system, it seeds the food with doubt, causes it to moan, not that straight forward moaning, more a sly ( Read more... ) -
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We echo death, we echoed pride; odor, color, and sound. We are the ones who fell from grace, those few fate destined to fall away.
And by those few trinkets of hers we find ourselves unbound. What once was a lover is reduced to an anguished memory, as we resolved to spread her warning. And yet we fall, and feast upon our solitude. We detatch ( Read more... ) -
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In the early hours of the morning I find myself consumed with a fiendish hunger. Caught suddenly, I desire to eat the very light and steal it's glow. It is a craving for symmetry which will be our undoing, this longing for purity ends unfavourably. Hate is the fuel of the weak willed, it's uses are abundant and include:levity of emotion, levity of ( Read more... ) -
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Free from metaphors and riddles.
Ironically, my preferred vehicle of speech makes me sound like a sort of fantasy book demon, which was another nickname given to me growing up. Demon... Endless are my charms!...
( A Handguide To Obliteration ) -
A Reflection Of The Year Ahead
It is he beginning of a new year and we stand at the precipice of great change, a new dawn rises. This year we reap the adjucation of our fruits, purposes shall be revealed through the tribulations of our greatest errors, our pasts are wreathed in silent anguish upon the crucifi we erected in it's honor ( Read more... ) -
Tear Gas And Plate Glass
The walls around me shudder and moan with unholy despair, the sorcerous walls ablaze in pale green fire, melting. Molding into the form of my childhood room, perulent sacs drop from the ceiling- constructing a complete little setup; bunk bed chairs and all it was formed of a perfect memory, as if it were some great surgeons anatomical specimen. My ( Read more... )