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You repulsive ball of laughable maggot brains.
You insufferable clump of nasty pustulence.
You psychotic loaf of defective foot fungus.
You misanthropic toilet-full of rotten snake innards.
You confused contribution of industrial-strength wookie hair.
You asinine mass of fusty puke lumps.
You ugly bunch of musty pigeon bombs.
You crude accumulation of infested hippo vomit.
You good-for-nothing truckload of crusty testicle warts.
You retarded vat of rancid cow pies
You disgusting bag of polluted toad tumours
You contemptible eruption of fornicating monkey s**t.
You outrageous load of wormy hemorrhoids.
You uneducated tub of sloppy walrus blubber.
You monotonous excuse for putrid herpes scabs.
You disgraceful lump of gruesome pimple pus.
You dull loaf of festering weasel warts
You irrational bunch of crusty dung
You repulsive vat of cheesy moose entrails.
You fetid excuse for mildewed jock straps.
You indescrible glob of sloppy a**s clots.
You deeply disturbed pile of infected maggot brains.
You psychotic load of fossilised sewer seepage.
You infuriating accumulation of cancer.
You pitiful crock of decaying fecal matter.
 Final Jester · Tue Jan 11, 2005 @ 05:14am · 1 Comments |
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One would have thought he was a force of nature. Darkness is a force of nature. But he wasn't nature, he was different. Nothing changes anymore. The first day of the year seems like the last. Even the hunger pains fell into the background of what he called life. Sleep was forgotten, and the nights seemed longer than the days. Endless. Promises were nothing anymore. So there he sat, his head lowered. Perhaps he should have stayed where he was put. Perhaps he should have never been released. But in that sense, he should have never left home or the war in the first place. A chill ran through him, but it wasn't the winter wind, it was the pale memory of her. . . . .
They all haunted him. Every one met the same fate. It really was his fault. He lifted his hand and stared st it a moment, turned it over from palm to back, back to palm, watching the crescent moonlight through the leaves of the tree he sat under. Life was at full speed and a stand still at the same time. Immortality is funny like that. He lived forever, but never really lived. The difference? Not even he knew.
Final Jester · Sat Dec 04, 2004 @ 08:03am · 0 Comments |
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My tounge stumbles and fumbles over the words I wish to say. My prowess falls away and all that's left is the shell of a man I wish you to call your lover.
Final Jester · Mon Nov 29, 2004 @ 07:02am · 0 Comments |
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Leave Me Here At Half Past Ten |
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He finally found me. After so many years, he found me. it's like dying all over again.
A joyless existance. it's like drownding, I could swear it was the same. How is it all so similar? Why is it all the same? You keep finding ways to knock down my hope. Just as I find ways to build it up again.
I had hope today. I would change to. All this proves is that nothnig changes. I'm just as unhappy, life is still that unjust. Am I really that forsaken? I can see my future as it is laid out at my feet.
This is why I hate you.You've done this to me. Why would you give such grand gifts to those who don't deserve or value them? Why would you leave me without the aspect that makes life what it is?
******** YOU! I ******** hate you!
I try to be the best person I can. It's not enough. Never enough.
You even had me believeing it was my own fault, my attitude towards life that made things this way. So I changed. And now that change means nothing. Weather posotive or negative in life, I'm still forsaken.
I should say who deserves it. I should say what's right. Nothing is sacred anymore. All I ever wanted was to feel loved.
Is that so wrong, such an atrocity?! I can love; I know I can. I have it in me - feel it every day.
And yet, I can see the people who claim to love and do not. You force me to this.
my hate for you seeths like black oil out of every part of me. It stagnates: it surrounds me every moment of every day. It oozes and bubbles like tar, sticky and unforgetting.
It's the breaking of bones, the spurting of blood and sinue from an open sore. Maggots live in the hate, feeding on it, feeding on me. I could say it, scream it, write it a million times and still i wouldn't be satisfied.
I hate you. It consumes me.
Why can't I feel nice? Where were they? Why do I feel so abandoned?
I will not let myself fall to you like that. I hope choas sonsumes you like it consumes me. I won't let you ruin me.
You have your wages.
If you truly do exist, truly do see, I will find you and I will show you what it means to be power and will, to be stuck in pain that consumes your every moment in existance.
Hope. Faith. Love. These things are for the wicked. I have no hope and i have no faith but love I will NEVER give up on. Never.
You've challenged the wrong person. I tell you, I'll find her. And I'll treat her like the goddess she is. I will lvoe her and hate you.
I hope the jealousy eats you from the inside out.
I say you'll never forget my face. I will be burned into you for all of your eternity.
And if it suits me, I'll be the new Death, the bringer of chaos and salvation to this planet.
But first, I'll find you. Both of you.
That is my promise and vow.
Final Jester · Thu Nov 18, 2004 @ 03:07am · 1 Comments |
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There is a dull luster that comes off of the pendant around her neck. I watch it all the time. I don't mean to, it just hapens. It's nessled right inbetween her brests, falling only a little into her shirt, the chain just long enough to accent her throat. I can never get a good enough look to see what is engraved on the poorly polished trinket. So simple but so perfect. A trinket; a thing I can never touch.
Something lurks inside of me, crawling through my flesh. It moves my hands. Passion, panty lines and silken kisses. She is so warm. Giggles in the dark and a thumb running lightly over an eyebrow. I watch her lips and feel her arm, each tiny hair as it moves to my touch like a small breeze under the sheets. I can feel her arms about my dripping waist as the towel falls from my head. For that fleeting moment I can see her next to me, can see her smile. It's a happiness I can't find. But I blink and find my mirror fogged again.
Final Jester · Thu Nov 18, 2004 @ 02:21am · 0 Comments |
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Ever hear of lithium pills??
Ever hear of schizophrenia??
Now You'll know.
A cold wind blew solemnly through the open window, and the drapes fluttered softly under it. She sat on the edge of her bed, a deep red comforter wrapped around her body. Her breathing was shallow and came in soft rasps. She stared at the window, out into the oblivion of the endless, starless, night. It seemed to stretch out through all that there was, or could ever be, cold and unforgiving.
Suddenly a hand appears at the window, and another, followed by an arm and the soft silhouette of head with shoulder length curly hair.
The young boy pulled himself up, and into the room, falling into and over a pile of stuffed animals, leaving them in a state of dishevelment. After a hard cough, he rushed to her side and took her hand within his.
Taking a deep breath he began, "I know it's not true, they lied to me. You have to be. . . You are here."
She took her gaze from his face and looked to her lap, saying nothing.
He continues, "They say you don't exist, that you are made up, a hallucination. I know you are real. They say to take my pills, and that it will make you go away. I don't want that, I don't want to be alone. You mean so much to me. I know you are here. I can feel your hand, that can't be fake, here, in mine." He slightly squeezed her hand, "I know you are real, you have to be. Feelings like this cannot be fake. They tell me to ignore you, and take my medicine. I know you are real."
A few tears came from the young woman's eyes, falling down her cheeks and into her lap, head still bowed, lowered.
He put his arm around her and kissed a tear from her cheek, proceeding in his sad soliloquy, "It's not fair. I finally find someone who cares I exist. They say I made you, thought you up.", his voice now becoming harsh and emotional, "They try to convince me that this place is a dream, a nightmare that I have to wake from. They say... you're.... not real. . . . How can they say such things?!?!" He began to weep now, as well.
She sniffled, wiping the tears from her eyes. With a weak voice, stammering, she answers him, "I am real.... I...."
Softly now, "They told me you would say that. You have to be... YOU MUST!!"
Silence falls over them for a moment, and the dark night envelops the room. Feebly, and in tears, he stutters his words to her, "You are real, real to me. They don't matter."
Quietly, she returns him, "I am. . ." Gulping hard, "I. . .can't. . .see you. . .anymore. . ."
He is taken by this, and his face droops as his heart breaks, "Wha. . . . . . . "
Not allowed to finish, she interrupts, "I..... can't....." She lifts a small plastic bottle from her lap and stares at it a moment, then she looks to him, staring deep into his glimmering eyes, "You are the one who is not real. . . "
He doesn't answer. Her hand only rises to his face to clear some strands of hair. Leaning forward she presses her soft pink lips to his forehead in a loving kiss as his form slowly fades away, back into the black night. He leaves her piece by piece, slowly, the breeze stealing him from her. Like dust floating in the wind, forever gone to here, never to know.
She continued to cry, sitting in the darkness of her room, holding her little bottle, until her eyelids became heavy, and she drifted off into sleep. Gone.
Final Jester · Sat Nov 13, 2004 @ 09:14pm · 0 Comments |
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Only I would be stupid enough to super glue my hands to a model. . . .
Final Jester · Sun Nov 07, 2004 @ 08:15am · 0 Comments |
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Deep in the depth of unconsiousness I reside. I'm the part of you that smiles at pain and laughs at atrocity. I'm in everyone. Listen to the blue moon when it speaks in tounges and visit your own ashes. Six feet is too tall. A corpse can make the evidence of a new growth, food for ten generations. Winged abominations. The wearwolf of the unconsious, laugh at the trial of blood and the tiny wail and soverign utterances of forgiveness. I hear them not, only laughter and the carmine reflection of shattered glass. The reasons undefined. Frued died by my hand, thrust into the depths of my sin. I live in the skin. You smell of me and I love you.
Final Jester · Thu Nov 04, 2004 @ 06:40am · 1 Comments |
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Didn't mean to make you live the way you did.
It's not your fault. It's mine. Beautiful oblivion. It comes back to me so sweetly. I missed the last train home on a one way track. It's all my fault. Please forgive my wastful ways. Dear love, forgive the last time I ever cared. A deep sigh can sound just like breaking glass. Have you heard? The smaller the fee, the greater the difference it makes. My life is like an empty quill pen. Lost hope of an empty tomorrow. My tears are sawdust. Smile for me, glow for me. I see. I see. I see. I see. I caused this. I built this cage with my own hands. This prison is what makes life real in it's place. Look into it's eyes and tell me what freedom is. I see. I see. I see. Beautiful oblivion.
Final Jester · Wed Oct 27, 2004 @ 04:43am · 2 Comments |
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