(no subject)

sometimes in the dead of night, when the only sound is the dismal hum of an air conditioner whose screen showed have been changed long before you ever sat down to type. I imagine a world where laughter brings you closer to heaven, and everything can be laughed at. Loving the subject of your laughter would most likely be very important, however we do not live in a such a world. In this world a friend might measure of the size of his stiletto against your back, suddenly to back into such a sharp instrument. Piercing childhood memories of when little girls tried to scare you with the poo-poo monster and mu-shu pies being the only means to destroy the poo-poo monster. I saw that so literally, it hurt my mind … in this world friends break your memory against oblivion. Mothers kill children, children kill parents, families infested with every sin as we glorify ourselves in electricity generating our HD sets. Rats chewing up furniture, cockroaches already dead, the fear of ghosts or the lack of any … shadow people staring in from the corner, pet cemeteries under our feet. Blackness, without a clear sky in the morning … shining down to sell our souls to satan if we can sleep at night, staring at clocks because your running out time. Being called to lead the church of satan, being raised a roman catholic in babylon, long island.

Our battle grounds breaking overhead, god’s eyes staring into our souls … each footstep stretching the canvas of heaven. When we die it might mean oblivion, this computer screen is filthy with dirt and debris … what is past this filth are these words.

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