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February 19, 2003
love is a many splendored thing
I love depression.
I love the feeling that I want to scream at the top of my lungs until they bleed silver
as I rip the veins open down both arms
and the blood comes venting out
like some cheap anime
i love this shit. i love the purity of self destruction
something so silvered it's black
or so black it's silvered
and *YOU CAN'T TELL WHICH*
—
my brain is bleeding liquid fire
and it's molten silver
with highlights of platinum
and quicksilver
mercury spittle
bile-laden phlegm
the lining of my stomach folding in upon itself
gagging, hacking up blood and bitterness every time my stomach churns
from some other inequity
some other palsy of reality
some other hatred
ENOUGH OF IT!
I AM SICK OF IT!
DEATH WOULD BE TOO EASY FOR IT!
—
To find the action that which will cause those to spurn me…
it will drive both of them to push away that which they love
PROVING that love is NOT ABSOLUTE
that it is FINITE
and that within our skins we are TRULY alone
and black is blacker than night.
and that the only thing seeping from our eyes are not tears
but blood
and thus, never truly counted on.
So quoth scott at 03:53 UTC
BITTER traces
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