• Walking. . Hating. . . Talking. . . Mating. . .All humans are trash.
    . . .On this world, slowly tearing it apart, irritating it like a rash.
    Satisfy your selfish ambitions and needless missions.
    I'll say everything will be alright. . But of course i lie . . .Go ahead and cry.
    Dark, emotionless eyes see not the stars in the sky, but think of the way this world will die. To those who fly, and those who crawl, trash is trash. . . Of course, that does not exclude I. Humans are on this natural high, walking oily flesh bags that go through life with a sigh. Disappear. . .Vanish. . No one will cry. You say i'm cold, but i know you can't talk. . .Are you even really alive?
    Maybe on the exterior, but how about on the inside? . . . Infesting, multiplying, we are nothing but pests. Take your hand and place it on your chest. . .Do you feel it?. . .Well, more or less, it goes without saying. . . .


    Humans are Trash