Saturday, October 26, 2002


to the law, but also anyone else who tried to damage me...

Humynness sickens me. There's the obvious ethical component of this. People do horrible things and i've hated that for a long time.
But there's a physical dimension to it too.
Humyn characteristics are gross in general. Apes have always been my least favorite non-homo sapien animals. they have this general shape... this gawky, awkward reek to them.
And people have it 10-fold. Look at their arms, skulls, legs. I'm a walking piece of meat. There are all these veins pumping boiling nauseous warm liquid through cancerous groves and organ caverns. Underneath the pimply, porous mask, people are all shaped red clay and spurting geisers of blood. Nasty.
Men are the worst. Their build... their harsh, blunt external organs. Their low voices. their sprouts of hair shooting up everywhere... curling and dripping with vomity sweat drops.
Sometimes I wish everything would shrink away... like a piece of beef dissolved in a jar of digestive acid. Disgusting substance burns on its own fumes and vanishes to a place where nothing can touch it.
But that can't happen.

So I make myself cold. Then, they can't hurt me. Flames can't touch an already immolated pile of ash. Punch me again.
See me smile through broken teeth. your hand isn't even yours. It's mine. Force me to strip and take notes on the filth. Comment on the bubbly arrangement of assorted plumps of fluid and fat. Try to hold back your gag reflex when you see the random bumps all over my skin and the collapsing, heaving abyss of my stomach. Collect my bodily fluids for analysis in a sterile lab to see if I'm using. Follow me. Put me to work. Ruin my back in commercial freezers and make me wipe splattered frosting and ketchup off of infants' faces. Cripple my body with constant threats of violence... what the legal machine can do to me and FORCE me to be.
Handcuff me with tournequette palms that turn purple, record the indentations on my fingertips with grease (so you can tell your friends how well you know all the nooks and crannies of what's left of my body), hurl me in a concrete box and joke about how good it'll be when the "retard" next door shoves his penis in my ass while you scream at me to breathe through my nose while you're in my mouth... Smear my "pretty face" with your gizz and pop my neck with your flashlight for good measure. "You'll be old before you're ever out of here." "Better get some money in your commisary, kid... the weekend's almost here. Just give up." The weekend's almost here. Buy instant coffee crystals and eat them raw, but don't fatten up because Boss likes boney asses, likes punching ribs when he climaxes, likes feeling jagged hip bones up against his roast. "Don't worry. I'll eat those hot dogs for you. I know they forgot you don't want to eat meat. Just give it time. You will." "Don't even think about looking at your parents. If you do, I'll hold you in contempt and you'll go back to your cell to watch Rodney Dangerfield and clean more toilets."

Go ahead. Do it. You'll get no fight from me. Put me on your rack and come in my eye over and over again in different situations. No end of legal cocks are enough to finish breaking out my teeth. It's just plastic surgery cheap... trim down my muck... clean the mud off my face with lysol spurts, anti-bacterial bukkake. Make these organs melt and spew out of every orifice you can see. Make me strong, but make me weak, like the river that bends submits always goes downhill path of least resistance just like Lao Tzu,

You can't break water.

It flows.

It's cold.

And it disappears when you burn it.

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