incomprehensible
language of wine I had met the devil, he was the most handsome man. Full of charm, smooth as glass, his grammer and speach immacualte, rounded and deep as a pool. He dressed in the finest of cloths, in the highest of vanity. from that day i had promised myself to be polar oppisite, contridiction to the statement. In my first life my name was poe allan edgar. I had written poems, horror story, it never went anywhere i died in a gutter in boston. my last words were "god, help my poor soul" My apartment had went for rent, after my death. It must have been coincidence that a man named edgar allan poe had rented my room. a month in he found my writing. it was a lifetime of work that had been wasted, the talentless drunk bastard had got the work published, gave him hand full's, drank and did drugs, died in some gutter in boston his last words were "god, help my poor soul" .... everything will now be taken as a blessing, even what others would call disformity, ugly, crued, wear it as a war medal. scar, sign, a symbol to let the other's know. Once you open your eye's, it is only neccasary to open your heart, One must have the couage and will to cross. what could be said in thousands of words and books, could just as well be said in one. In all utter significance the words stand by themself's, embezeled golden in the green grass. I have lived to suffer and endure the calculations of misguided words, you must stand upon the world accept the uglyness far out reaches the beauty. I have given up all wordly thing's to seek a life of lustfulness, dirt of gold, in a time of lead. You once think that good truimphs over evil, good is smited, spit in the face. I will be freeier then any man had ever dreamed, there are no lines, states, contienet, goverments.america had begun in blood, surley end in it. the only morals are nose to the grinding stone. heart of the accelerator pump. millions of men had worked to the grave, the vanity of work is nothingness. We had returned to the dark age, my heart's a tedious lamp, in the pitch of darkness, mounted on the sex of winds, saluting to the highest court's, clearly aroused, seizing the solemn smile's, i can love without love, money. Romantic as a bloody clever, aged as the arts. I have no past, no name, no money. I have been undertaken by adventure, knife to the throat, gun to the temple, foot to the floor. Inspiration is a horrible thing, it is a poison, a curse, a lifelong plague. I had wanted to be a simple man, in a simple man i became 5 herizons. I had existed to company grey, perplexed men, voices empty, shakes and rattles to the lonely strangers. in the new dawn of tommorow nothing has ever been truely lost or won, no triumphs to be rejoiced in, I carry the weight of 3, do the work of 1.. People will never change, thought change is the natrul progression to everything. I am sexless and sexist, drivin to the brink, stranded in a plain, lets paint love with nothing in between. In confusion, i am utterly lost. I am sorry, i love you. The most valueless words of all time. I am sorry, I'm **** you and dont love you. I will take you the image you define as yourself, i will wash it, it saturation of degrading will flow empty and endlessly. I am sleepy, but I'd rather dream, to everyone in love, hope he cheats on you, you cheat on him, the feeling eminating from dissapiontment to murder. she lays naked on my bed, huming abbey road from front to back, she had become a center, a balancer, she knew the note in which to match. Hoping the world end soon, rather starve then enter back into the circus. to death there is none, there is only life now, it is not the piont to be lived. The first girl i have ever loved, found religion, drove off a 400 foot cliff, from that day I accepted any and all beliefs. I see things as i am. to the age of sticks and stone and buisness men, nothing ever evolved, beast in diffrent enviroments. I will simply go where the winds wine."the normals are talking, they can see we are not normal "
I pledge everything, I encounter. I am a disease, trying to spread to its next victim, where ever I go rain follows, bad tides in the air, bad vibrations, empty brick buildings for hollow blocks. In the sunken irony, i doubtful revailing all the ridicule. Devouring all and everything around, the horrors have grazed the streets and times. it is an absoultle daze, i desire and wonder ceaselessly, it is miracilous in the way people pretend queitly, it is not undouftfully adapt. I am unnerved and delirous, in a prepetuail coma, thought i am totally aware, foolishy confused.I am endurable and eternal,bewildered and frantically fixed. it is starngly vague on the nameless avenue, where there are names, but other names before, once they had no names, they wee quiet and perculiar, in one moment it vanished it is the closest of ironys. Is if the element lead, were I, heavy in its weight, cheap in its value. MAny things have stood in the place of time, MAny things have stood in the place of time, time is everywhere . time is forepassing us like the days, today is always a new begginning. Even when time did not exist it was not being measured, before existence it had its place. from moment to the next how can we know how long one can remain the same. Great ruins that had once stood perfection in the sky, old is being discarded as the new takes it place. the first written 200 pages of madness, was misunderstood and incomprehensible. to me it had resemled a wagon wheel, with the outer and inner bracing eachother, it was everywhere and nowhere, it is purely forbidden, it was not but a dying man woe. his discusion of loss. it was called suffering and lost. time can seem fast and slow, it can drag on forever, go bye in the flashes of eye lids. how places in your life have stood and represted completely diffrent objects in your life. He like me had worked to his grave, the whole time he was dreaming of soft lumpous thighs. gravy mash patatoes.The Wolf it sybolizes fearlessness, the robin waking me up every morning depics courage, courage i have no yet recieved. I dont want to paint love,cheerful lets paint death, despair and destruction........"you dont feel attached". and as the dying man shoes are being filled,wearing his cloths, keeping his name. And if ther is a hell. it here and that is certain, only in hell do people work for nothing, live for nothing, die for nothing.
