My Next Victim

Oh... so beautiful is that hatred. that pain. that silent acknowledgment of life's shit.
I cried.. oh how I cried. tears of relief of how I wasn't the only one.
the only one with shit.

How can one comprehend another who only think in words.. not music.
Your mind is a fucking living etude.. with the superintelligence of Chopin.


Ah. it was funny. it was ironic. it was fucking deja vu.

wrong was i to think i was the only person with such abstract and crazy thoughts.