The Begining of all things to end

I'm the reminder of what you can never have. Goddamn!!! Ain't that a bitch. Well I wont let this build up inside of me. if you're gonna suck in life, goddammit, suck long and hard. Ain't no point in bending over, if you aint gonna stick up for it.

A sudden influx of dipshits seem to have changed the face of the blogging world here at fh. What with the religious retard blogging away to glory as if god himself delivered unto him the scriptures. Shut the fuck up you hairy sac o shit!!!!!! Thank you Mr payne for that wonderful critique and everyone else who thought otherwise... blow me. Oh well...sigh... I think he be shutted uped already. Bygones. Moving along. Ms Amita...Sigh... what can I say??? Seriously.. what??? I mean what can I say that wont make me wanna take the razor to your wrists in the slim hope that you will just stop writing. Please, stop. I beg of you. I mean isnt what we have to go through with tabrez and the jungle people going apeshit, enough??? Huh??? Speaking of which I think you people should do the anal probing with the flaura and the fauna raped from the jungle of your trite and redundant humor. All of you apart from Princess Leia, that is. 'Tis a pity that I'm stuck on you my enchanting princess, it could have been fun. I could have auditioned for the part of your prince, had their been such a part and if I really cared in the first place. But then I wouldn't want to spoil it for you. I'm sentimental like that. Now a lot of people here think that using abusive language and talk of gore is really not funny, creative or new. Well, lets just say that if you really believe that, then we must meet up. Because I would love to slit your throat and fuck the wound. Then I want to push my head inside and make you swoon. Ah well, cant win em all I say. And the ones you cant win, need to be deep fired in oil and stripped of their skins with the help of a potato peeler. Try that on dry skin. Does wonders in smoothing out any wrinkles that you might have. Heard that somewhere...for the life of the marinated carcass under my pillow, I can't remember where. Which, if ever does come out from under the pillow, imma feed it to Gormless Gus. Think the dude could do with a lil fibre in his diet. Stupid motherfucker is sticking to vegetables these days. Doesn't believe in the massacre of hapless animals. Told him to stop banging Maneka, dude just wouldn't listen.  Not surprising that bestiality (talking bout maneka here not animals) and him go way back, right to the school days and the frequent visits to the zoo.

I seem to have run outta steam. I think watching Meet Joe Black at five in the morning does that to a man. Love that movie. In moments of absolute boredom and utter confusion, I'd often wonder what I'd do if I had Hitler or Idi Amin, among others, in a room with no windows. Now when I say had, I mean with them strapped into a chair, with a row of surgical instruments on a table next to them. And about this fascinating and disturbing image, I'd wonder late in to the morning. I think I shall pen down my illustrious thoughts, about the malleability of flesh, on this wonderful medium known as a blog. For all to see, hate, love and commiserate. Now I shall leave you with some parting thoughts on what Is to come.

 

Imploding your eyeballs


orgasm piercing through your brain


shining cum, perforating pain 

I pull the trigger and I cum


with your head spreared on my gun


observe the metal coming near


the gory end of your moral fear

Riot-fuck the faecial breed


Hallowed be this cleansing dead


Frightened face splits wide open


Sickly pleased I shoot again

Cranium spread all over the floor


Chunks of brain slide from the door


i could kill every last one of you

Skullfuck you all is what I'll do

 

Fecal obsession, Fixated on my own turds


sewed down the anus


forcing the crad to fester among my intestines


walking heap of human methane


ready to burst giving the impression of pregnancy


the turds start to revolt, taking over it's host


internal infestation propagating it's way


the intestinal walls colapse injecting veins with filth

walking human methane bomb ready to crack


as shit is oozing out of my pores, my colon walls to collaps


walking human methane bomb ready to hatch


shit is thrusting in my veins- cardiac arrest

Sphinctral enthrallment - shit pumping up the smothered rectum


Sphinctral enthrallment - internal bloodflow congested by feces

the pedestool randomly sprayed with feces and guts


a pittoresque canvas of coprophageous hordseuvers

bypassers repulsed by the burning anal scent,


all admiring this sculpture of steaming excrements


adding puke to the recipe

admiring this shinctral abattoir, victims of this coprophageous war


getting off the stench of bile and spunk, i sphincturbate and defile

sphinctral enthrallment 

 

 

 

 

Current Mood: Thoughtful
Current Music: I cum blood

Big house in the woods, imposing and desolate....except for the room with the window. The window overlooking the woods. The quiet man, his movements and actions covered in shades of gray, in shades of the trees around him. His actions are deliberate without any hints of what is to come. He obsesses over a certain article of clothing or a drawing. The stillness is what gets you first, the silence crouches upon you, it gets close enough for you to feel its tingle, the shivers that start at the base of your spine and spray themselves over your scalp. You start wondering about the prescence of a childhood and then flashbacks start cascading into the light as you stare out the window. The wind blows the leaves around and you find the leaves drawing a pattern into the space attracting your gaze. What childhood, with only the swaying of the trees and the rustling of the leaves as the child picks his way through the rocks. He can feel the force of something scraping his back and the feeling that something unwanted wants him. Something so loathe desires his company. He wanders into his little cave, gropes around the darkness and finds little pieces of forbidden thoughts strewn across the cave floor. On account of the fact that darkness can suck anything in to it with just its emptiness was not lost on the boy and it devoured him.


Obsessed with the notion of denying the conformity that his loneliness has limited him to, the quiet man strips away the feeling itching at the surface. He scrapes and claws again and again, till he can see the bones of his own madness. In a moment of unbridled pain he remembers the cave and then clarity washes over him. Lapsing into a whisper he shudders with pleasure which is almost orgasmic...almost. The psyche can only take so much without deteriorating and the cracks had long been savaged. It was the loneliness that killed him, the endless whispers, and the caresses splaying across his body as he drifted among the curtains of his domain.



Sure he knew that everything and anything of consequence could be broken down into simpler parts, rather like the chemistry of organic compounds. What he couldn't figure out was if chance had eyes in the back of its head. What if the dice rolled didn't have a predetermined fate and due to some unexplainable cosmic reason clashed with Einstein's statement before he ever made it. What then of the existence of reason and logic? Scratching the ravines of blood and bone, he felt an overwhelming sense of claustrophobia and realized that he had come a full circle again with Einstein, a broken spoke, of his bent cycle. What did chance have to do with anything...what?




I'm starting to feel like the voice inside a drunkard's head... I am starting to feel like yesterdays thought in today's lament....

Sanity waiting to be restored

Feeling like yesterday's clothes on a beggar too proud to beg... feeling like the space between a blink and a tear....

Feeling like my time has come before my regrets were buried.... Feeling like my dreams haven't been lived before...

Feel like kissing u sweet n tender...

Feeling like letting the touch last as long as the memory... feel like losing my being in it

Feel like taking the touch higher.... To a place where memories don't fade.... where dreams lie soft on your hurt

Feeling like drowning in the supple hollow of thy neck.... Feeling like the fleeting dreams that hurt enough to keep it all fresh....

Feel like letting this moment last...feel like hurting anybody who comes in the way

Feeling like agony singing its requiem for that last dewdrop.... Feeling the moments last caress on thine gentle brow...... just you and i travel this path.....

She breaks it

Feeling hope unfurl like the rancid petals of desire.... 'tis sad she breaks it when he needs it most..... But isn't that just her??????



Current Mood: Gloomy
Current Music: Wishful Thinking