jacksin

I could use a little bit of discipline.

rEAlity iS jUsT a cRuTCH fOR pEopLe whO caN't coPE WitH drUgs.

....All matter is merely energy condensed to a slow vibration. That we are all one consciousness experiencing itself subjectively. There is no such thing as death. Life is only a dream and we are the imagination of ourselves.

...Ever since I can remember, I have always wanted to be a serial killer. I see the serial killer as the great performance artist of modern society. The killer dispatches strangers in grim and gruesome ways and the public thrill with disgust and revulsion but are held in the thrall of this great attractant. To murder is the supreme form of transgression. To do it...
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...you say this when i say that
but i'm not with that
so step back or get smacked
cuz i won't be held back
so don't fight or dis' or piss me off
cuz i'm not soft or weak
running down in the maze of the day
this is a new phase
don't be commercial or sell out
or get the hell out of this...
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...Don't do anything by half. If you love someone, love them. If you hate someone, hate them until it hurts.

...Death? Why this fuss about death? Use your imagination, try to visualize a world without death! ...Death is the essential condition of life, not an evil.

....There's this girl I know, she sends me flowers and cards and all kinds of shit. Of course I throw them out immediately and think of all the things I could've done with the money she spent on all that garbage. After we fuck, she disappears into the bathroom. Minutes later she reappears with a damp washcloth and wipes my cock off. Isn't that nice?...
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no talkin

...I want to meet a woman that will make me stop and listen to what she has to say. I want a woman who will make my jaw drop in awe. A woman that has little time for me. One who does not throw herself at me. One who respects herself who has a sense of herself. Where is she?

...Just got back from a long weekend celebrating my b-day down in PHILLY. That city Ruckin Focks. Tattooed Moms down on South Street is a kool ass joint to shoot 8 ball, have a pint of Yuengling (or if your gettin low on bread there's pounders of Pabst Blue Ribbon for cheap), play all of your old hardcore & punk favorites, and mingle with the...
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...Sex is full of lies. The body tries to tell the truth. But it's usually too battered with rules to be heard, and bound with pretenses so it can hardly move. We cripple ourselves with lies.