the morning always begins with my shower in pigs blood, pirate eye patch smelling of the finest crusted over horror films. the meaningless noose tied to my soy milk pulls and chokes my oven mitts to the counter top spinning blades and red seeds cancel out each other as my roomate cries for his musket and medevil dress code. the entire school choir poking and proding at my undead vegan cows head riding the bus #41 ice cream melting on to the what was pasty cement filled with overtones from reading rainbow and Lavare Burtons noose devasting with anxiety attacks...so in the end it all make perfect cents, and with that the dollar sign is soon to follow and happyness is in turn present. the noose, however, comes with that package deal and no oven mitts or school boys choir will insulate the burn or drown out the screams that are behind each and every waking money making moment. so cry, cry my darling because this is your fate, and even though you didn't ask for this test to begin it is, in some absurd way, your responsibility to make it all end, or at least play it out to the best of your self-justifying abilities...or not there are other options, and hopefully someday you won't see my emotion toting sleeve laid out for you in this mundane times new roman format. With luck and a splash of integrity I might find the courage to write myself out of this melodramatic farse, and if I can bring myself to close the eyes of my humanistic short comings I'll take each and every last one of you fucks with me...
die
die 
shorteyes:
die...