porn, super porn
my space holiday.
2005-12-14 | 11:13 p.m.

estranged & strange.

I am walking out & giving up. on a wasted world of wastrels who kill people for killing people, of confused factions fighting with complacent forces. say what you will. it is so fashionable that it is unfashionable to talk of this nonsense. to talk of how the billions of people in poverty will multiply, will win, will covet and cover this earth. do you know what 'fucked' means? it means that everyone I see is living in miserable slums of makeshift tin and cardboard corners. one room residences. eating or burning garbage, naked children shitting in the street while comfortable westerners cling to their comfort, dressed in death, wearing the happiness of slaves on their shoulders. me included. I'm not glazed in great. I cough on this choked air and nobody gives a fuck about the fucking people, of the skeletal shadows hungrily propped on the buildings. they die in the street. they are burned. not me not you, god blessed america! god somehow spoke to the neolithic farmers in the fertile crescent and forgot everyone else. all the brown people clothed in dust and death. but who cares about these somber stories! let's eat our lunch and waste words with our friends. let's flash our white smiles at the carefully-constructed sitcom! there is no problem.

there is. no problem. there is no significant risk to your health.

I hate america, in its comfort, in its complacency. fuck it and its convenient lies and its fucked foreign policy. lives of lies. the current administration should be tried for war crimes. I never want to go back there. I want to die a heroin death. because I'm not a heroine.

I play these chords.
I say these words.
but I do nothing useful to the world.

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