Driving off onto the 101 rush hour concrete jungle, there are no exits,
only obligations to stay stuck in my mobile cubicle moving at the speed of slow.
Hidden flowers on the hillside bloom away mocking my insanity,
they cheer me on to see beyond these gray prison bevels.
Gray blocks hollow until they're filled with my humanity,
making me take the choices reaped with devils.

I feel like I've lived a day in one hour, it's so early it could be midnight.
Twisting and turning in my brain, the sun suddenly ridicules, feeding me a fresh case of insane.
I'm at a point of sorrow, sorrow of an exceptional quality, Grade A-farm raised, take two tomorrow.
The raven croaked nevermore, Juliet is the sun, dangren-burang1.
We have to go. I'm almost happy here2. Complacency rots insides, then refills with fear.
So - Listen to them - children of the night. What music they make3. Clamoring for sight.
There's no flesh or blood within this cloak to ****. There's only an idea. Ideas are bulletproof4. Filled with truths, synapse salvoes, loves, and drugs. We love what we eat and eat who we are. GERManic germs looking for psychological thrills. You work the guns, I'll rattle the hills.

Smoking cannabis to an over-extent, hope lost, old kung-fu and 80's movies won, I eat smoke for breakfast.
This sun is still mocking me, “Start your day, be productive, make a baby, then expiry.”
Stepping into society, I'm a satanic leaf-tailed gecko wanting freedom, abdicate, and let go your kingdom.
Halfheartedly half washed dishes in my sink; this entropy roller-coaster of highs and lows drives me to drink and think, then drink and smoke, making life one strange syrupy green swirl of mammarys and calamities filled with brevity’s of rarities.

5,000 images, 2 comedies, and a numb right arm later I've turned into dark matter, invisibly pulling all that matters together into a forever stretched infinitely, literally making synergies out of life-energies.

Angie Jolie has a look that melts into her perfect ******* as she teases me into a new world of seduction. Her eyes are a map and her lips show me where to land my ship of seductions. I want her seductions and eruptions filled full of love consumptions.
Catching my beer just short of the head I drink in life… I miss the spice, the strife, the things that make me cream  I want feelings and meanings filled with streaming beings.
Needing something greasy I feel easy and less enthused across a world of misused and abused people that are trained to enjoy the steeple. Dogma, **** it over and **** your dogma. It’s there for you to be a tool.
I miss the hand-kisses and well-wishes. Love’s seduction filled with reduction to the finest elements spent on sweat and tears of fears and folly. I want your lolly and folly filled with me.
******* crazy, it is me.
Me, **** me. The life I chose is interchangeably symbiotic.

Cold soft plastic, even colder metal with rough edges. Soft until I strike, the metal gets hot and I want to lick it. Flames high, taste them.

I once saw a planet far far away
It was blue and green and gray
I heard stories, some very strange
About beings that treated each other to shame
I wanted to visit but I was told to stay
There would be better planets along the way
I heard these being's treated each other badly
Making each other sleep tortuous slumbers grinding their teeth away
Sometimes I still think of that blue green and gray
But again I think I will stay so I don't have to see the pain these beings make into play

So you have all this money, now what to do you top 10% of the 1% or two.
I can see you buying mega yachts watching mega movies on your mega laptops.
Then I see you buying disease, buying suffering, buying my life away and all those with whom I play.
They see red when I mention you; the top 10% of the 1% or two.
You were clever enough to steal and lie and cheat your way to the top.
But instead of growing up you just couldn’t stop.
I feel sad when I think of you, the top 10% of the 1% or two.
Because when you die you will have prolonged evolving without love, without empathy, without the stuff that fuels society.
Only sadness and pain can come from the top 10% of the 1% or two.
So how will you feel, if anything at all, when that stolen wealth brings down everyone including yourself to an astronomic fall.

AS he wrote baad grammr t machine went spat

toomyx my lowe igo I think you thin kI caseto care.

I ‘s iddll explain. So yu yeware witness,ywhsitory.

U diedred thet right.?

See u tut yuelwwlle

Tr..,i

Samuel Kj, Bazz