• surpisingly.
    god didn't answer.
    neither did allah.
    and meditation is still for pussies.

    disconnected from vital forces.
    they lived in the jungle; eating.
    foods they didn't understand.
    it would morph the mind, but
    we'd all be okay. we'd all be fine.

    we aren't people. the jurisidiction.
    of our officers ended just outside.
    i tried to chase the shadows out.
    they were in the house, attacking.
    with a heavy heart. and big hands.
    i did what was necessary. i always did.

    ******** it all; god's not real. when we die.
    we just die. belief or not. there will be
    preveiling darkness, all around. you.
    have one chance. why waste it all?

    i won't pretend to understand. i know.
    i sharpened my knives in that shack.
    i waited for someone to come; to stop me.
    and they didn't. there was no surprise there.
    but i was still hopeful; i'm not a man. i'm just
    a kid. i used to have dreams. but they are.
    just that. illusionary. i am trying to keep my eyes
    dry. they don't need to see me this weak.
    it's disgusting to me. i am more human than ever.
    and hate it all just as much. i see how bitter i am.
    i can taste it. late at night and early in the morning.
    i regret everything. especially when i think of the.
    intermingling. no more afterglow. i am saddened.

    take this cup from me father. he yelled it in the.
    darkness of the garden. trees lined with heavy.
    green leaves. surrounded by ruins that would.
    still stand on their own, thousands of years.
    after his demise. i don't know if i mean physical.
    or spirtual. either way, i know now that it's more
    true than ever. if god is real, he doesn't care about.
    us. not about me. let me be juvenile for a minute.
    i don't care about him if he doesn't care about me.
    that's not true. i want him to care about you.
    all of you. ******** me; i'll go down on a funeral pyre.
    to keep you all from dying. i love it here.
    i love living just to do it. but i regret it more than ever.

    when i sleep. i am tired. when i wake, i worry.
    i'm not even content any more. i keep saying.
    that things will magically transmogify into new things.
    new parts; new pieces. everything will be alright.
    wrong. i just want people to know this.
    it's a last will and testament. when everything hurts.
    why live at all? i keep breathing. and say it will change.
    it has to. i am the same as i always have been.
    omnipresent in thought; in mind; in ******** heart.
    i am not a man; i'm not a kid. i don't even know if i am real.

    i beg to differ my own points. let the sighs of humanity.
    bury me in their dirt. like god.
    God is dead! If they drive him from the earth.
    we shall shelter him underground! in something i wondered.
    would be like Dante's inferno; which ring of hell will feature
    god's punishment. who rationalizes his actions? or justifiies.

    god deserves hell. especially if he makes us all. me, you.
    any of us. we are ******** scum of the earth; not salt.
    not meek. not humble. we are nothing. made of dust.
    from dust to dust, we shall return. ashes make our bodies.
    but never will we return to the fire, the light lit by some
    over concientious greco-roman god. who had pity on us.
    no hope. he just thought we were too weak to survive on our own.
    his act of truancy disgusts me. i wish he'd take back his gift.
    all we did was burn ourselves. no phoenixes left in this temple.

    i wish he would at least be vengeful. that he'd be like allah.
    punish us for being heretics. for being what we want.
    everything is coming unravelled at the seams. life as i knew it.
    is just a miscomprehension of everything i ever learned. i won't be.
    able to look up anymore. no more eye contact. i wanted to spend time.
    with god, with you, with someone. someone to listen to my marmeladovian
    rants. instead, i am afraid of even the release of tension. i want to be like atlas.
    but still my knees don't bend; especially when i try to lift the earth.

    if you are going to leave do it. don't drag it out. i left the semicolon out.
    no hesitation in this voice any more. just melt away into the water.
    i have nothing left to divine, no more propheteering. ha. the pun.
    i don't need any more help like that. i just want to be left alone.
    i am not a conduit, they encouraged the change. i am leaving it all behind.
    for fear of flying to closely to the sun. god damn it all. god damn me.