I let the eyepowder steep for five minutes. An angel told me I had to chat with the devil. Who am I to argue? I know nothing. I think a lot, what else can this stubby lil entelechy do on the fringe of the vermin vines? A biological pattern, locked in slides. The warm bath of the capitalist west.
Obligation by obligatory tendons drive the dagger-wielding arms of shaking, duty-bound delinquents, delirious, agents of the ultimate frill, the necessary thrill, what you can squeeze out of this frilly biofroth, this mass of conspirators, use and abuse, kill because you're alive.
It's been a long time since school. Back when I read books. Nature doesn't need another book reader apparently, I wasn't cut out for higher mental functioning. I should be running with the wolves, howling at the moongod. An offering.
Ah yes, it's amazing what you recall in certain states. State dependent learning. Hopeless deja-tower, escherian, non-linear. Let Ms. Mensa figure it out. I give up. I fucking give up.
Pedophile memories echo throughout the solipsist's apocalypse afterlife. At some point, they should become a cartoon genocide. A lesson on a Grade 10 history teacher's chalkboard. Is it "holocast" or "holocaust"? He's not sure. At least two of his students think that corruption is what you can boil all the worlds problems down to. Killed a million Irish, blighted potatoes.
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