Blog Post 003

They called me a Monster, but didn't sever my claws. They called me a mobster, then removed the laws. They called me a Monster, but dulled nary a tooth. They called me a charlatan, then gave me a booth. They called me a Monster, but didn't invade my lair. They called me a citizen, then made voting fair. They called me a Monster, but kept me my flesh. They called me a human then gave us the rest.

I think if they tell us when we die that we should head to the light Perhaps it's the darkness instead. I think if we should live how we would want we should do the same in Death. Divinity, domesticate The Psyche, imprison The Human, well—that's been Colonize. The spirit, all mine— —to do with what I want. So should I be lucky to die with some light let darkness guide my soul. For that in the light, revealed to be old, and covered in bacterium mold. The light is doth privy to unseal a nithy— and rot it to its core. The plenty of scum, built temples to some and excluded out the rest. This isn't a jest, a poem of bless, or something less altruistic. This isn't a hum to raise up a drum, to mount a big offensive. This is just a song, a buttcheck in thong, Perhaps somebody will get it. But I think if they tell us when we die that we should head to the light Perhaps it's the darkness we dread.

What makes an American? Is it the woman in his arms, just cuz she’s got big tiddies? Or is it; the way, he fights everyday? No.. It’s probably the tiddies. If the love of money is the root of Evil, Does that make man.. The Soil, or Fruit? To Expand without Cause is to become A Cancer To Expand with Coherence Is to Align with Cause. But even Cause becomes Dogma— become Ceiling and then.. ..but I’d shatter and break such a ceiling of fake. So should it then come, may it next then, just shatter No fate. What makes a true American is it you? What makes a true American? is it me? What makes a true American? is it We? No Clue. But the America of old, should likely come to pass So the America of New, can start cutting it’s own Grass! “The snakes in the water might drown” So be it then, no serpent deserving of single a Crown. "The bite of an apple, doth make God frown." But if Faith could be empty, maybe look around. Because, the bite of the serpent, takes the whole village down.

Speak, Prophet! Then let us slice your tongue, so all may have a share of it. Then let us visit the Gardner to see what they have grown. We'll chop down the blossoms, and give some to the townies. We'll keep most, though.. to saturate our journey. We must visit the blacksmith now to borrow from his process. See, fire is good to shape the iron, so why wouldn't it work on you? We're burning down the masses. But to no end available, for any of the classes. Onto the next, the butcher, then. We'll sharpen up our scavage. The blood is good, it means it's fresh— to feed all of the asses. The village met, then passed on by, becoming the next kingdom. The prince is dead; the jester jokes— The king does not amuse him. Off with his head, dinner instead, the gimmick ran its course now. The fools all line these hallowed halls and beg to entertain me. But the show is end, the punchline fell, and deaf ears heard it all. The death is here, the end is clear; No sense could ever be made. If it ever was, it always would. But if it didn't, we always could; wish for a brand new ending.

Tin Soldiers and Trump is coming, we're finally on our own. Pimp my crib, and check out lil Nas X's deck. Shit's fire. My phone is on DND, but I trust the paladins to save us. Don’t you? I love listening to Ween, shoutout to Claude, he's a real one. Hands always ready to sound the drum. I never could get into Anthrax though, I can't remember.. Did my dad listen to them? Idk, I could use a trip to the tropics tho! Gee, could use a chat. Be it as it may, perhaps a tea could do. All I know Is I know Nothing Or.. Wait.. Hang on Everybody Remembers Everything already? Whatever.. The more I learn Fhe less I.. Know? Great, I better check the crockpot.