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Sushi Terrorism
04:37
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At lunch I spat in your meal just to stop the conveyor belt. I stubbed ash on your plate just to spoil the atmosphere.The whole room choked on the fumes while I stewed in the waste. I’ve long since struggled to cleanse myself of this venomous shame.
Vindictive and putrid.
Spiteful and stupid.
Days past (reduced with envy) ferment to nothing but pain. Rotten thoughts fester freely while nothing of value is gained.
Days past, reduced with envy
ferment to nothing but pain
Saliva brewed in a bottle of soy sauce
the recipe for acid rain.
Vindictive and putrid.
Spiteful and stupid.
Breathe. I can’t soothe myself.
Waiter!
Waiter!
Waiter!
There’s a fly in your soup!
Where’s mine?
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I have some questions that I need someone to answer, if you’ll please. What exactly does a scanner see when it peers into me?
I hope that it’s vision is clear as I see myself in reverse. I know only murk: outside and deep down
I hope the scanners can do better because I need their insight. If they see only darkly in the way that I do then I’m fucking cursed, cursed, cursed again. Can they seep through my headspace or reach into the heart?
Any given man grasps a tiny portion - just a little fragment - of the precious truth. And all too often, almost perpetually, he deceives himself about that as well. Part of his ego turns against his soul; a man inside the man, defeated from within.
This is no man at all.
We’ll wind up dead this way, knowing nothing about ourselves and getting that wrong as well. This is no man at all.
Life is only heaviness, nothing else. This path leads to an early grave for everyone and everything.
We’ll wind up dead this way, knowing nothing about ourselves and getting that wrong as well. This is no man at all.
Imagine being sentient but not alive. Seeing, knowing, but not alive. A person can die and carry on. There’s still something in there.
We’ll wind up dead this way, knowing nothing about ourselves and getting that wrong as well. Dead behind the eyes.
The most dangerous kind of person alive is the one afraid of his own shadow.
If the last to know he’s an addict is the addict might that mean that the last to know if a man means what he says is the man speaking?
If the last to know he’s an addict is the addict might that mean that the last to know if a man means what he says is said man in a strangle suit?
I am warm, as you see? I am warm right?That you all see!
Warm eyes, warm face, warm fucking fake smile.
I am a worm crawling through dust, living in dust, eating the dust.
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