scream out to the valley that things are fucked and unfair poking burn spots with the fag against my ingrown hairs in-between the sealed up cuts on my arms that start to glow red as my body starts to rise in temperature strike like matches you can wake up early in the morning when you have a good reason to need to the landscape scales steeply, with it's contours holding it's insides like an empty bowl the hill is too sloped to jump off of reminds me of back home take too many parts apart, have to reattach a few come back home to the last night I spend with you your things are being put in a box and your things will be moving in soon too many things being taken out too much things moved to one room the death stairs eyes it's next victim the flowers coming into bloom about twenty or so days until I see you days getting longer, things not getting any worse things not getting any better. things not getting less hurt thistles caressing my legs, sun missing my eyes god knows god...
what's another tranny in a hole extol virtue expectance must fight for acceptance liberation only gained when liberation is for all but i keep myself locked upppppp heads will roll your own respirator first in emergency others second urgency worst at the first step its because i got a death wish i try to avoid anyone that comes too close youd think reflexes from a soulslike i've never played the game the adversity of avoiding your death is too tiresome what's another tranny in a hole my mind wanders from its source heads will roll what's another tranny in a hole what's another tranny in a hole one more number and one more body to prop up in disdain disgust, pity, fear, a little head served on a pike for you to wave in faces detached from the rot and lack of warmth and the flaking skin, you can't smell anything coming from a 5-6 inch LED screen. observe the processes of objectification, statistic stratification. you can shove your whole arm up my ass and through ...
My eyes are dim and heavy this morning. I'm stronger than this But I have no agency in my life I hate being dragged along for shit I don't care about I hate being treated like a child. I always have. I hate being called "boy". Funny enough, no one in Japan has made that mistake. Only my family. I used to grin in glee when people used to call me a girl. Haha!! You must be mistaken. I'm actually a very cute gay boy!!! I silently think to myself. Now I smile politely and bow lightly and make no fuss of it. That's really kind of you, I silently think to myself. I stare at the copy of Ryu Murakami's "Coin Locker Babies" on the hotel's book shelf And I widen my eyes a bit Ryu Murakami? He wrote the original novel for "Audition" I wrote about the Takashi Miike adaptation for my film course last trimester Wow... they have a copy of "Coin Locker Babies"? Hey -did you know that this book was also going to get a Takashi Miike adaptat...
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