Sunday, May 24, 2009

455 stresses per serve.

I watch it desintegrate and decay. I watch myself in the mirror as I pull off this skin, this mask. Shred it up with a cheese grater. Never again will I "dable in the scenery", as I like to call it. It caused me to forget why I am here. I am not here to please some christian, fake, scene, player bitch in skinny leg jeans and a fringe used to hide the ugly truth. I am not here to be changed. I am here to change the fucking world.

This world..
I sit on the train every night and I look at Perth's population under an ugly yellow light. I watch people's hands. Their facial expressions. The thousands of hours behind their frequently more hollow eyes. Funny how the ones with the deepest frowns are usually the ones with a ring on their left hand.

The beings on the train stare straight through each other. Being in such a close vercinity to them all fills me with pan awful feeling. For me, catching the train is like visiting a friend in the psych ward. It's horrible to see but you still feel as though you have to. I can't help but read into their lives, look into their eyes and see how much they have seen, how much they hurt. I want to help but, would they listen to me? No..
Empathy turns to disgust and I feel it is time to start hacking blindly with a machete.

This world isn't happy. Or maybe it's just me.

1 comment:

  1. Well, you make up 95 percent of your world.
    I own the other 5 percent, tho, bitch.

    Very good descriptions here. Easy to understand and beautifully written, with that lovely morbid feel of you we all love.

    Good to see you writing again. Had been too long.

    You WILL make the change, probably hacking with the machete, and I'll be screaming and holding you back...
    Only so it lasts longer.

    Much love. xx