FATE CREATORS 2
Drunks on wine diets, the stroke of world's usual justice...quiet the WOW! The uttered silence of the Manic Void, yeah. I exhaust the shit to eat it. Beauty stuck to old movie reels/flypaper of the fetid Britney and Absent of Anything, the enemy, the End. Save these simple moments, of tears/terror...THE NAKED NOTHING! Or death? Too many smiles in the clean light of sterility, yipyip in the first stages of the Thing(Carpenter). I clean the razors for my mothers. I clear the web of Nowhere for my fathers. I am the supreme future of Boredom. Millions of temporary robots celebrate corrupt Christmas! I am the doomed experiment stalking the goof-proof American Dream, pissing away all flying saucers on TV. All bleed to death quickly...I cope. Obese in the Pea Soup! This year of Jesus's disconnection of Mars ends soon. Conscious Loin fungus, the religious Ape is here to help spread the pre-approved alien noodles. Care about your erections! Justine Bentley is a Goddess. Do you remember the new terrifying Common Sense? Don't! Jimi had the Revelation Spit and Ascending Yowl of Eternal Now. You will love these thoughts...MARS BLOOD/PSYCHIC TIME STOPPAGE/LAUGHING EXECUTIONS/FECAL BREEDS OF FAT MAGNETS/MUTILATED RED SAUCE ZEN/The hidden secrets, ask God. I want God. I need God's direction. You'll probably still end up counting your Lithium tablets,yup. God is always ready. God loves me. THINK? IT BLOWS UP. It's the first day of 1984! All fetishes fulfilled! I'm a dead madman cavorting in the emptiness of Burlesque Meaninglessness? Smoke and eat Maximus too much, too. Love is never endless, the pain huddles naked in a corner. NOW! You can have unlimited body-odor illusions forever! The dehumanization of your computer is the apex of dripping wet Non-Existence! "You will yell with desire to please me!" Fumer peut vous tuer...Finland, we're here! Be bored in the Mini-Apocalypse! I'm rubbing my Conscious, this was realized. On the beach, this saliva is missing...THE EARTH IS NOT OF THE NEW CONSCIOUSNESS AFTER IT EXPLODES AS A TEMPORAL-HISTORICAL STRUCTURE OF MADLY IN LOVE NOTHINGNESS/we have now arrived at the Limits. No panic allowed! GOD"S NUDE DEGENERATION we looked back in disgust, yeah.