aj_paradiselost

The magnificent scent of a chilly autumn day. Within that cold I feel the fucking fire building. Pits of despair. If lonliness had a fucking scent it would smell like brimestone. Having someone doesn't mean lonliness, it is actually demonic trickery. No matter how fucking close someone is to you they will and can never be you, and in that they shall never completely understand just who the fuck you are. I dig on that really.
Alone in your bed or alone in your fucking soul. Autumn bring your chill and make way for the desolation of winter. Another unescapable ice age, months fucking long but sometimes an eternity to the empty soul. In a rage born of what is a woven tapestry of all things dreamt and aspired for. Fuck that and let it all burn. Your already dead, a lingering ghost afraid to pass into that great truth and find out that you might be right, that you died the night your fucking dreams died. I can fucking dare to stare into an abyss that feels like parting a black silken stage curtain to see the set that lies beyond. What do I see fuckers?........The end of everything.....How? who the fuck cares. To sum it all the fuck up, Do I despair, fuck you, hell no. But if you see the movie SLC punk, then you'll know the simple truth......Beauty is the End.