misfits69 0 Posted March 30, 2004 Death of Seasons: of late it's harder to go inside, to leave this deadspace with hatred so alive. writing with sickness, thrown into banality, i decay. killed by the weakness, but forced to return. turn it off. i watch the stars as they fall from the sky. i held a fallen star and it wept for me, dying. i feel the fallen stars encircle me now, as they cry. out there so quickly grows malignant tribes. posthuman extinction excels unrecognized. feeling surrounded, so bored with mortality, i decay. all of this hatred is scucking real. turn it on. it wont be all right despite what they say. just watch the stars tonight as they disappear, disintegrate. and i disintegrate 'cause this hate is scuking real. and i hope to shade the world as stars go out and i disintegrate. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
jefffitz 0 Posted May 20, 2004 I suggest many, many hours of reading Ginsberg. If you still feel angst-ridden try John Giorno, at least you'll break out of the iambic/ A-B limbo. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
BakulaBabe 2 Posted May 20, 2004 I like it. Maybe it's because I've been kinda tired & miserable for a few days . I got some vivid mental images while reading it. Keep writing! Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Captain Ericks 0 Posted June 2, 2004 That is very touching. I've had my share of cloudy days and I really do appreciate that. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
