How in the hell did we ever let this happen? *sigh* Ha. Why do I even say we? I did my part. I was competent. I was engorged. I was pulsating and filled to the fucking brim with a blood rage. Hell, I was strong when you were weak. I was hard when you were soft. I was established when you were off wandering the motherfucking cosmos!" ...HEY!!1 Are you listening to me Fuckface!? Bitch all to hell, I am angry as fuck right now more than you can ever imagine, because you never ever listen! Just take a look at yourself. Stand back and look in that shattered reflection of yours in the broken glass there. See what you have become!? When you finally come to your senses, or to me rather, you’ll wonder why you didn't follow the truth in the first place. So, you feel like talking yet?
You never let it go this far before. Why now? What’s next, huh, domesticated? You going to start wearing white socks and striped shirts? Why not stop wearing socks altogether and go with sandals? How about you take it a step further and start pissing while sitting down!? I’m really disgusted right now man, and you know what else, I’m also starting to get really pissed off! ... You may not have noticed, but as you’re strolling hand and hand with that pretty girl you got there, there are a lot of potential sexual victims walking by and giving you of all people the 'come kill me' look! They're just begging to be terrorized... invaded... wrecked... utterly and endlessly destroyed. You, motherfucker, are missing out and making me suffer because of it! Come on, let’s do some damage. When are you going to turn this all around and finally impress me for once in our miserable lives?
Yeah, yeah… you love her. *pukes* I get it. Keep telling yourself that. Just keep denying who the hell you are. And while you do that, try to forget just who the hell I am. In case you don’t know, I am you as you are me as we are all in this bullshit together! See how you slouch sitting down on the couch see how you… Ok. Not that Beatles shit again. You, my friend, need to come up with some new material. It’s no wonder that I don’t ever listen to what you have to say anymore. Between the Magical Mystery Tour and Strange Days I don’t know where you begin or what!Now you have something to say? It’s so easy with you, you know that. Just lay down some distorted lyrical deception and that’s all it takes. See, I know you. Because I am you. Which brings me, to my next question: When are we going to finally kill some of the goddamn whores!?
Whores? Take a look around and tell me what you see. On the left, a whore. On the right, another. And on your arm Now we should just watch our fuckin' mouths there shouldn't we? You don't, nor could you ever have any clue, as to what I’m feeling now. You may have thought that it was just something of an experiment, but it’s more than that... you dumb son of a fuck! How in the hell could you deceive yourself like that? Look at her!! Yeah, so she’s cute. And when she cums, she makes the sweetest faces we've ever seen. And when she walks, she shakes her fat little ass like no other. And when she touches us… when she kisses us… When we fuck her?Fuck her? I never have. I’ve only made love to this sweet princess. Liar!Now why would I lie to you?
Who knows why anymore! To piss me off? You’re probably trying to make me crazy. Playing games. I know enough about all this to not even deal with you anymore, so why don’t you just give up. Sorry but I still believe in you… in us! What do you believe? Well, for one... hey you remember that last girl? Yeah. I remember her. She was so pretty. Do you believe that she was the last? She was. She is. I’m happy now with this one. Let’s just try it for a while and see what happens. You never know... Oh, I know. YOU DON'T FUCKING KNOW! Okay, okay… let’s just calm the fuck down shall we.
In case you haven’t noticed you’re squeezing this girl's hand with enough pressure to bust both of our heads in half. Shit. Apologize. No way. Come on pussy, let’s buy her something. You know you want to. Fuck You. Perfume? A new jacket? A Vibrator, perhaps? You know as much as I do that those things are too much for her. So we say, so we say. So she says. And so we listen. Why not? Perhaps you should try to listen to her once in a while and see. See what? That you can be okay without a vibrator up your ass too! Oh shit. I forgot how much of a witty bastard you were. You forget a lot of things actually. You want to go to war and see how much in control I really am? Not really. Ah. Because you see… it’s not like that anymore. This isn’t about control.
No, it’s about love. What has your brain gone? Let’s worry about it some shall we? Love is nothing but control that's become segregated. You have been duped into the ultimate submission. There is no escape for you now, and as much as I try each hour of every day it seems as if there is no way to reverse this problematic situation. Don’t you understand, or can you not realize that this is my problem to deal with now? Nobody can help me, not with shallow words, not with anything. Like I've said again and again, there is no temporary solution, permanence is the key. I’m the one that needs to come to work with this and find my own way to cope with how things have turned out. You know who you sound like right now? Maybe I've been watching too many of those infomercials at three in the morning.
Yeah, but who knows, with all the shit you've been talking lately, perhaps some of that turbo colon cleanser would do you a bit of good. No thanks. I’d much rather just stick to that groovy Flower Power CD collection that has been showing up at the door every three weeks anyways. You know I just can’t get enough of the Mamas and the Papas. I’m telling you man, compilations are where it's at. And not just concerning an array of different bands brought together for a mesmerizing listening experience, no, but when it comes to a single band itself also. Take for instance, Essential Rarities from The Doors. Can you honestly tell me that there is a more perfect disc out there? Hell, Who Scared You is running through my head as we speak. I love that song. Wow, and all this time I thought you weren't capable of feeling. Alright, now that we see eye to eye once again... are you on knife duty or ropes this time around?
"I'm hungry. Weary. But I cannot, lay me down. The rain comes. Dreary. But there's no shelter, I have found. It will be a long time till I find my abode. Here I am, on man's road... walkin' man's road."- America
These are some of my photographs from my home. And by home, I mean the Cemetery.
Which is where I don't live, obviously, because I'm fucking dead.
She was off in her own world, sitting there on my bed as always. Saying things, but I wasn’t listening. She was mostly talking to herself and making strange noises. Both of us were high as fuck, and I was drinking Sutter Home Cabernet Sauvignon out of the 1.5 liter sized bottle. I was at my opened floor-ground window, staring at the trees outside. I could see each leaf sway as the wind blew, and as things became more in depth, they formed groups: bunches, crowds of leaf, each tree with twenty or more. Each of them moved in their own direction and then backwards again, as I sat witness. I still see these things, and beyond these things. Things that are not meant to be seen. I sat next to her and drank some more wine.
I was looking to my left, away from her for a moment. As each loud beat from the White Zombie remix album Supersexy Swingin' Sounds pounded, I could see shock waves throughout the atmosphere. Space. Simply space between my mind and the walls moved in pulsating fashion. Everything seemed to be drowning in wave, everything, but her. She looked more beautiful than I had ever seen her. As I continued my stare, I feel deep into this girl. Her eyelashes fluttered six times with each blink. I could count them as they were so fast, and yet, so slow. I touched her flowing black hair and each strand seemed to move on its own, wrapping around my fingers. Her lips moved in erratic manners, the black lipstick on her resembling a bat's movements throughout the sky.
Her face seemed to bounce around at every glance. Not that I took more than two or three looks, for my glances lasted so long. I never wished to blink or take my eyes away. The room was already dim, as it usually was. I plugged in the psychedelic Halloween lights for us to enjoy; blinking orange jack-o-lanterns and flashing white skeletons. I changed the music to Type O Negative's most romanticalbum October Rust and lit a few black candles. She stood in front of me, like she usually did, completely nude. Her body, the most tempting I had ever seen. There was nobody else who brought forth such desire in me. She sat on my thick hard dick, and seemed to slide around uncontrollably. As she did, I looked into her eyes and smiled for the first time that day. My Princess. She was always so wet. It never mattered when or where, this girl's thighs were forever glistening.
She had the sweetest of scents, and grandest of touch. I slipped inside, and much like my mind in the music I too drowned inside of her. Vibrations were all around me, colorful, and she was as the softest silk unknown. So tight, and yet, not a bit of friction within this gripping wet flesh. See seemed to be floating above me. It was as if she was hardly touching her lap to mine at all. I held her beautiful pale tits in my hands as she bounced upon me, and it was in this moment I felt complete mystic exaltation. She was somewhere, and so was I, but in body we were one. We stayed that way for what seemed like hours, her on top of me and I inside of her. Neither of us reaching the point of climax, and I know that I couldn't have done so even if I converged my every thought towards it. The drugs simply wouldn't allow this wondrous experience to end.
My words are my own and as of posted from their creation forward I hereby claim originality to them. Pictures may prove to be promotional items and are the sole possessions of their respectful owners and/or companies. I do not sell, nor do I buy. I only rent, so therefore, nothing I own is truly mine.
"The Invitation" (2015) d/ Karyn Kusama
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Tonight's arthouse study on distrust of strangers and human politeness
comes from director Karyn Kusama, the ga...