pretard
I love the arts, a new way of skinning a cat--things that aren't even cats. It's great to be taken out of the mundane and uplifted into a new realm of possibility. It's a necessity of the human condition.
that's exactly how i feel. Sick, tired and just ready to give up. I just got to remember that if you're going through hell, keep going. But sometimes you just want to lay down in a snow drift and let the numb take hold and carry you away. I'm fucking spent!
From the beginning the screwdriver was always screwed. It got turned and twisted and was more often than not used for something other than its intended purpose. It got shoved into tight corners, bent and pried with and shoved into a dark box for eternities.
Damn, I've been grinding again. I could feel the sharpness of my teeth with my tongue. They felt off like they didn't line up right or have the same shape and feel that they had when I went to sleep.
The eyes opened and there it was a door. A door separating one room from the next. But how far away from each other the the two rooms were was immeasurable. Since the thresholds could span space, continents and planets.
They came in and brought their ways. It was a kinder more agreeable way and utterly horrible. It drove the lust of life from their very bones and the spring from their step. sure their fingers didn't go up their noses but then again nothing else came out of their brains