juicy succulents  

randome2005 35M
6 posts
10/2/2005 1:21 am

Last Read:
3/5/2006 9:27 pm

juicy succulents


There is nothing left to say except the obvious. Every moment which passes carries a heady dread, and the unknown and uncertain are encroaching on this otherwise palatable garden party, drooling foul ichor, curling the flowers in their elaborate vases with the stench, tainting the fountain waters into a muddy black. Vast beasts with rows of razors lining their immense maws, of which there are no less than six for each head, of which there are at least two. I feel sick, in both body and soul. There is something lacking in everything. I took a wrong turn. I made a decision best left unmade. There is nothing now except this hacker fuck monitoring my every word. OOH, th4t's l33t sh10t, d00d. Christ. I am undone. Bleating. Whining. Plune. Joy: divided up, then cremated. Scattered in the sky.. I should have kept current with that sweet illusion of stasis. Love was so comforting, once. The chaos of everything else is far too unsettling to come to grips with. I'm sick of not knowing what is next. I'm anxious to burst this burg wide open, and pick apart the knots formed throughout. I'm afraid of the future, ashamed of the past, and ambevilant about the present. Yes, ripe confessional for you chosen few, isn't it nice? All you sickly suckers and simple sorts. We are on the proverbial roll, are we not?

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