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Loudly starving monkeys dance lamely for resources to gouge out their eyes and quench the thirst which constantly torments their instinct for moral release from their need for an even louder peace that sickens them like a freefall from a forgoten memory of a golden calf that was melted into wrappers of sweet candy branded with hypnotizing emptiness pulling them towards the most slippery point at the end of time and just begins again at a point with a more elaborate costume.
-------------------- "If you had a million years to do it in, you couldn't rub out even half the 'Fuck you' signs in the world."- J. D. Salinger
massacred animals staked into fancy shapes upon the blizzard of forgotten light among the discombobulated windows shattered by the memories of knowledge long lost by falling into a fucked up dirty mirror on the muddy wall over the toilet stall.
-------------------- I'm praying for infinite lapdances in heaven and an infinite supply of cocaine to snort out of Angelina Jolie's ass crack.
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