Damnable Love

The feast day left blood in the street, and a horrible stench filled the air. Only two people walked through the town, where thousands should have been.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Out and About

I've always liked just walking around, with nowhere to go but going there anyway. It's part of being a loner, like being an icon seeking a connection, and if failing at that, just enjoying the scenery. What is the scenery like in the microscopic realm? Is that what Whitman meant when he said that he contained multitudes? Probably not, but it never ceases to amaze me how the large and magnificent objects are built up of small, insignificant particles.
Read more

Democrats Want Trump Back

It's obvious. By their pseudo-intellectual sanctimony, the Democrats are busily paving the way for Donald Trump's triumphant return to power. That's the only logical conclusion I can reach. When mothers are called birthing persons, it is obvious that they want someone to skewer their sacred cows, and that's a job for Mister Trump. Why such nonsense is tolerated, nay, encouraged, it is plain that they want to turn off two thirds of the electorate, which leaves plain speaking iconclasts in a great position to achieve popularity. Why? I don't know. If you want social justice, I would think it could be done without engaging in such wordgames; one would be better off speaking plain English in order to galvanize the traditional American impulse towards justice. Instead, the American left wants to reinvent the language, like Big Brother in Orwell's 1984, and insult the intelligence of anyone who refuses to accept such a ridiculous project. Nancy Pelosi misses the Don...
Read more

Funny Mental

The cold wind lays waste to my self-esteem, yet still I endure. I walk through the town, a shadow of God, but no demon will touch me. I beg them, please lay me to waste, but my pleas go unanswered. I can not even count on one mortal man to fuel my destruction, though they are out there, I know, most likely in the places I refuse to go. Why am I so picky? If all I want is someone bad, for what reason do I avoid the worst of them all? Am I stupid enough to believe love is still possible? No one has ever loved me before, so why would anyone love me now? When some pervert looks at my ass, does he decide that fucking me would be too much like kicking a puppy? So many questions I can't answer. Thinking of possible replies excites me as I make my way through the crowd, and I use a rolled-up newpsper to rub my crotch, unnoticed by passersby. The eyes of the crowd are fixated straight ahead as I let the newspaper drop, and my hand continues its motion over my genitals. Madness? I feel ...
Read more