antipunk

"A story teller right? Its why you do what you do, for the stories?"

"No, I'm lost. If I only knew who I was I could go somewhere...",
"Show me, tell me...but there is only silence...always only silence..."
"The silence is a reflection of the truth...there there is nothing!"

Hahahahahaha.

"I Thought You were a whore!?!?"
"I give you drugs and you give me sex!"
"Well I don't really want the sex, but I want to pay you for it, lets just say we had it!"
I masterbate to thoughts of crime, acts against the state, ideas rebelling aginst relegion. I beat off to sacrilage, I fuck whores for the frown from society. I'm...
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Hedonism can get so boring...its like cheating on a video game. At first its like" wow cool awesome, something new! yea!!!" Then it gets boring and old and you realize you have everything and there is nothing to look forward to.

So it becomes even more depressing and pathetic...because now you still do the drugs, the alcohol and the sex but its pointless and you...
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Just chug it.
Don't smell it, don't even thiink about the smell.
Just chug it, you can do it.
Just another ordinary bottle. C'mon now, stop hesitating.
Put the bottle to your lips and chug it!

*Glug, Glug, Glug, Glug, Glug*

FASTER! Don't think about the taste!

*Glug, Glug, Glug, Glug, Glug*

ehhhh, oh my god, still 3/4 of a bottle left!
It burns like...
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My friends are just as lost in apathy as me. They shout "Revolt!" from the top of there lungs as someone comes to drag them away, yet when untouched by society they waste away.

Hypocrits, or just plain lazy. It is a just feeling to oppose the oppressor, but how just can you feel when its done only in times of conviction?

Hopeless fighters well...
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I'm not insane.

I swear to God, I'm not.

Its only culture shock.

There are no limitations.

You can always travel deeper and farther away.

I never grow tired of depressing.

I swear I'm not insane.

Life at its fucking finest in and out of focus... Here then gone... I wonder if worlds beyond us fuzz into focus us...

No cure. No disease. No life. No please.

My life was a story once.
A story I told every waking morning to hung over friends answering questions of wild exotic nights, most usually forgotten and left undiscussed. Nobody really valued or cared...
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*spelling AtrOcious and thats the way its staying because thats the way I'm feeling*
*Bitch decoder rings not included*


I get off at rebeling against Life itself.
Death, suicide, chaos, apathy...fatalism.

Fuck society, I'm angry with life.

I wish everyday like it will never come true. I wish for death.

Kill me in an accident...so I can handle it. The misery of fatality graunted with...
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Another expense has been paid for..with blood and hands of war
We are the living ash of time, puffing on us like cigarettes
Flakey caught up in the wind forsaken and beaten
This is the mistake I regret for, this is the life I wished for
No, NO I WISHED FOR SOMETHING MORE!

No, no don't make the stars fall, No, no dont let me...
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Swinging back and forth, back and forth...I'm awaiting disaster something more than real.
I just want to feel...alone, or dead, crazy lost in my head.
I'm bleeding but I'm not dieing, not dieing yet.
I can't stop the infections, I can't cure the illness, I won't stop the madness, I refuse to call it what it is.

A liar is what I am. A liar...
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