Note: It might make no sense to you but that's fine.



I don't fuss over the way someone choose to cuss,
Or the god chosen to represent depravity in some of us,
I don't need to look beneath, you're too rotten on the crust,
Priest is no god, but that's where you invest all your trust
The same face-less pig who died in a **** lab,
In a stupid police bust.
But I must apologize in advance for I know,
There is no end of ******' stupidity in some of us,
Mechanical brains, new and old, filled to the brim with rust,
******* reigns, what's the harm in givin' your body some love,
God told ya so, touching your private parts will turn you to dust,
How stupid your god is, why give me a candy I can't eat ?
Tempt me by temptations, and still made me human so I can weep,
No wonder the world is going crazy, I forgot the rituals I had to keep,
Yeah, beat thy women into submission, gods one and only creed,
But what happened to the old fool, who went past the fence,
Crawled over the surface, the muscles in his **** so tense,
Ready to paint the world, in the color of his own,
Find the fertile land, and let his seeds to be sown,
Barely walking, heavily influenced by the anti-christ and blow,
What happened to that rebel, did he ever find a *** ?



Where are the mad-men and the sick-men,
Will all this depravity finally come to a ******' end ?
What about the cuss words and the torment,
Don't lie, I know you're never 'gonna have enough of them.

Where are the sick-men and the mad-men,
Something is wrong, can anyone tell what happened to them ?
My ***** is too strong to hide, I'm in need of some women
And my words have no ink for my pen-is full of *****.



Beat me to death for echoing this blasphemous myth,
Condemn me to hell, and just be done with it,
Tell me how beautiful your god is, c'mon ******' do that ****,
Scream anti-god on my face and call me sick,
All religions laid down on the table, a difficult pick,
Order me a ***** to undo my *******' zip,
Watch me hold my **** and cover your cards with ****,
The fragrance of arrogance, something you can't resist,
Ask your momma to climb over me for a perfect fit,
As i ride her to glory, watching the divinity of some ****,
yeah, I like them on all fours, I'm such a ******' narcissistic,
And yet you hate me, **** me for you're such a pacifist
As I watch your smile slowly turning into a fist,
And in mist, what do you seek, there's STD and you're at risk,
So go back to your home and complain to your god,
There's a rebel out loose and he needs to be caught,
Pick up your holy book, and remember what it taught,
Then turn it over slowly, and read the text in broad,
Holy ******' ****, that's six dollars for the words of god!


Where are the mad-men and the sick-men,
Will all this depravity finally come to a ******' end ?
What about the cuss words and the torment,
Don't lie, I know you're never 'gonna have enough of them.

Where are the sick-men and the mad-men,
Something is wrong, can anyone tell what happened to them ?
My ***** is too strong to hide, I'm in need of some women
And my words have no ink for my pen-is full of *****.

Funny how a small success
can make a large struggle
seem worthwhile.

The struggle pushes on your body
like the thousands of pounds of air pressure we endure every moment, adapted since birth when we were exposed to the atmosphere for the first time.

We've adapted so much. It feels like nothing at all.

And such is the struggle, a gradual acceptance,
until one accidental success -

a perfectly carved moment of zen designed to seal one crack in our exterior, to smooth an otherwise rough outline of the idea of your person.

One crack we didn't know was there until we look more closely.


And suddenly - we see - !


Are we made up of billions of cracks,
of shattered thoughts and ideas,
dreams and plans and places and bandaids over the wounds that never really healed?

Are we scarred beneath the flattened affect of the I'mFines and the Don'tWorries?

What a shock, then, when you finally discover the one smooth graft in your otherwise undetectably shattered self.

Oh! The elation!

One small, well-placed celebration
The seed of a new foundation

Can you declare a body unfit for inhabitance?
It's time for total renovation.

You are going to drive me the rest of the way to insane, aren't you?
Alright. I've already hit a tree once this year. Bring it on.
I'd go anywhere with you.

《》《》《》《》《》《》《》

A Nearsighted mind will seek immediate gain, centered on self for short-term return
Such future self will look back forlorningly what was lost in fortunes vicissitude.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Farsighted sight seeks Value of Greater Plentitude.
Puts aside oneself in favor of the Whole investing in Now for Futures gain.
Communities celebrate as
the child plays
~ basking in Glory for the Coming Days ~