December 24, 2002

• I feel the residue of angellic dust upon my fingers, distracted by the demonic desires playing within my heart of the deflowering of the celestial body! Entranced and hypnotised by the obsidian hair of yesterday's trash, today's jewels.
  

  I compose a symphony sans ordre with a mind influenced by the American soul doused in black, left out to try and rot in a sun for it had been shamed that her people never spoke of her Grace. I compose the disordered thoughts of simpletons caught in self-constructing webs of wisdom and "facts" who attempt to rebel from their true nature.
  

  My heart beats passionately for the experience of a life as diverse as her fruits and as fruitful as her diversity; my History quivers at the Possibility of re-enacting the Past.
  

  An oversized compass couldn't tell me where to begin to right the wrongs; my swollen heart screams for justice, my ever-shrinking self-imposed image of lies tells me otherwise that that which was is that which was right -- but human intellect contradicting human emotion is human fabrication of lies.
  

  A destructive nature -- the nature of foolish mankind -- devours my will with a grief that suffocates the life of my soul; muses dance in my mental Ballet, assuaging my bitterness and ameliorating my pain -- they take the ardent self-loathing and flip it into a confidence of correction; an ambition for existing to rectify a life of lost battles.
  

  Existence within the human abyss -- an abyss of the Attack, countering all Justice with the systematic slavery of a planet. Six billion souls living a life where they take the best and make it the worse -- where the fruit once fed the people plastic and concrete takes her place. Leave it to us to take the upright and make it upside down.
  

  Senseless to our selfish destruction we proceed as avaricious birds upon a cornfield guarded by a scarecrow on a cross.

  • 3:00 am
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