Monday, March 3, 2014

El Pasado Es Un Animal Grotesco

"Project your fears onto me, I need to view them."
This is my favorite scene, where the cruelty is so predictable. Let's ravage our bodies to the pint where we've somehow transformed into alterations cresting coldly on the feeding apocalypse. Break the mold of beauty and see the terror as a betrayal that crowds the rejection. Promise that I'll be made to feel like a criminal and the passion will spurn from the electric secrets of sexuality. The past is a grotesque beast, demeaning and spiteful, with fangs of never ending proportion and depth. Spinning in circles is all we do, try and reverse, it'll work. hammer the lengthy prose into a fire burning with cold air below. Tyrant, please leave me at peace in my own little corner of the world. There I feel safe as the moon becomes clear and my own stars appear. Help me please I'm not this dreary. help now before I' lost in this wormhole of money and cost. Sirens begin to blare in my already tender ears, make it stop I say, but you cannot. Night will last for days, so learn how play. 

"But at least I author my own disaster."
Cause when the happening comes it'll be to late. They will stop the spinning leaving you square, baking in the sum. Music they'll play will blow you away, off the earth and onto their ship. No worries bro' they have games. Hold your breathe if you want to see, the toys they got are electric. All you need to do is say 'hello' and ask kindly which way to go. 

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