where are my ugly people? shuffling with holed shoes, defunct ****** organs, crossed eyes. those whose strides echo their genetic abnormalities, a leg an inch longer than the other (like me), arms fat with blood, skin resplendent with eczema boils on eyelids, dilated pupils, escaping from the mirror with horse tranquilizer and enough ***** to sink the state of California. where are my ugly people, too long under the delusion of "finding inner beauty" by the pretty ones; straight teeth, combed and styled hair, brown and ivory skinned drowning the streets with their cackling and condescension. we should scar their faces with buckshot, carve those empty smiles across their high cheekbones to be an omnipresent companion. show them a bit of our own benevolence;
where are my ugly people like me?
PREFACE: this is not a true story, in fact, a noteworthy piece of contemporary science fiction.