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Rigor mortis

My head-juice is spilling. That trash, he ripped out my eye.

The urge to kill him is intoxicating, much like ambrosia. It fills my veins and floods my nervous system. It pulsates through my body with such uncontrollable intensity, I cannot stop it. My soul is tainted by darkness, or am I tainting the darkness, pavement with the bird-shit I call my soul?

An amusing concept: the world is you and you are the world. shattered psyche. Cracking my jaw feels good, but not with all of this blood.

I want to eat meat, a big juicy steak.

These words were flowing through me like a river, or was it just the pain of losing an eye?. I wonder if I passed out during that. I honestly can’t tell. I fell back into a dream. Back to sitting on the couch seeing myself inside of the tv wondering how will this drama play out…