burn42

..what about the glands?...
In York, Pa., trial is nearing for Matthew Turner, 22, who was arrested last year after pursuing a man for his adrenal gland, which he thought would bring a week-long high if licked or eaten; allegedly, he had stabbed the man in the side, and when the man escaped, Turner chased him relentlessly through town, knife drawn, until police caught him.

...experiencing..
Wandering the city last night on my own, walking slower, it seemed, than i ever had before. People, buildings, the city sidewalk moved around me like a dream. Colors highlighted dramatically in the artificial street lights and house lights luminated like ghosts of a reality that was metaphoric rather than tangible.

Eventually to south street, an old homeless woman pushing her shopping cart of...
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life, don't talk to me about life
...
who is real. thousands of aged once humans crowding around their bright expensive spectacle. they only know what they have known for years and never experience a single day past their mummification. a town frozen in sunlight and breeze from the gulf of mexico. mulling about under the bright glare of the morning eye, seeing nothing. a...
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Ode to Caffeine
...
Glorious dark liquid
necromantic concoction
liquid of life
artificer of awareness
black queen of temptation
Queen Mab's absent companion may never tire
for your vials of inspiration end her dancing

Existence is based on the collective belief we have in it.
...
The real geniuses don't strive for merit or award. They don't work impressive jobs or have impressive degrees in obscure scientific fields, nor do they desire them. They know that when it all boils down to the solute, nothing matters. Because when your decaying in the ground and the illusion of life has...
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...which way is the door...
Fire burning plastic flowers surrounding fields of fresh blooms taking in the darkness of a dying sun that breaths its last breath on my soul in the hope of a new day. A final day leaping into the sky like burning butterflies of sliver heaven metal. Only the just take their refuge in such fields bringing new life to my...
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Sometimes the box of reality seems to push its muffling walls close to my head, forcing me to notice the slaughterhouse ramp on which we all live. All in line one by one moving ever closer to the man with the sledgehammer, that wet thud and then they cut you up for what they can use. Footsteps down busy city streets, the row-homes seem almost...
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... the idea that we are alone...

My boots fall endlessly upon the poorly lit streets at night. I can feel the strap across my shoulder from which my bag dangles creating a sweaty blotch on my t-shirt beneath it. After walking endlessly the same carpet all day youd think my feet would be numb to this mile walk home, but each footstep seems to...
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The picture tube blasts its slime above my head. I wonder if Dr. Farnsworth would have thought ninety years after his invention it would have slowly evolved into the medium by which an entire population is kept lazy and afraid. Give me a bucket of canned laughter to drown my sorrows in.

....

So many words do not seem to comfort a searching for the...
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ages turn like butterfly wings in the grass and I watch my life drift by like a good novel drawing the reader on always wanting to know what happens next. Can the world be bought with a newly cleansed soul. All the sins of the child shall be passed on to the man. Only he can swallow mountains of puffed chests and pretending to remove...
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