some sleepover midsummer last summer:
It's shitty when you eat food and go to sleep on your half-full, half-empty belly churning away, metabolizing regretfully in the half-dark of premorning. It's at this time that it becomes clear to you - every fault and crack in the blighted and collectivized ass of America. And slowly... as the leftovers snake their way through your upper intestine this perspective - this nearly transcendental knowledge extends and balloons to encompass the whole world. And you wonder: why. am i so alone.
Everywhere there are thousands - millions of people who I hate, they're all crawling around like only semi-conscious ants, dragging their bellies through somebody else's shit, eating and recycling it until it becomes their own, but they're still there, still happy, ever-present for my ridicule: In becoming a God, all filiality, all lovecare and mental socialism, is gone.
Sacrificing my godhead is not an option,
and even though I have you, snoozing away in the semidarkness, my titan twin chained to a bed like Caucasus we're isolated our fusion has ruined everything except one for the other and even though we're in love it's in a crystal-cut bubble suspended in impermeable space: we watch the clouds amble by in darkness only to be broken by occasional, painful visits of grinning reality.
I'm a ufo and you're a doll and we both serve our social purposes - we got memes and yours is older than mine but -
No comments:
Post a Comment