40 Hours:
Banausic life shaves my spine.
Seven days of serrated boredom.
This Failing routine is killing me.
Content and dull.
I strive for what's meaningless.
Feel the life drain from me.
My life's predictable.
Material.
Cease:
Selfish moralist.
Spitshined virtue.
Build yourself up and kill with your ego ideal.
Purity keeps and open mind, then why do your words damn.
My free will is sentenced though.
You're no better I'm no worse.
If you have a problem with what I do...here's an open invitation, to your own sugesstion, aid expiration, and cease to exist.
So fucking bored with the things you'll say.
It must be damned if it's not your way
10 years ago
12 years ago