neoplastic disease is a real thing. you’ll never guess how long i had to sizzle and pop under warming lamps to look this good. my lips are glossed with a radioactive artificial sweetness. like antifreeze. radiation sickness is a parting gift.
God put me together molecule by molecule just to watch me destroy myself. every moment of existence is quantifiable and exploitable. our adversaries are mostly faceless so we must be too. the lights are on but no one is home. pay attention to the things you cannot see.
i am starting a new life. the brutalist architect of a better and colder version of myself. a version that can withstand the crushing pressure of impending disaster. ensuring my airway is patent so i can scream. i used to be my father’s favorite (that’s a lie). agonal gasps are a red herring, a distraction. a final neurological reflex and sign that death is imminent.
last night i fell asleep with my makeup on. this is the divine spectacle of bot-identity. i need to eat but everything tastes like battery acid. both my peripheral and central nervous systems are paralyzed since I got left on read.
something terrible is just about to happen.
the prefix crypto means hidden. i refuse to cede that word to internet scamboys whose mothers did not slap them hard enough. the love of my life is on another continent sleeping next to someone else. a few grey hairs sprout wild from my head and sparkle like tinsel among a mess of soft brown curls. i have my grandmother’s frown and wrists but lack her warmth or her patience. i can be as hollow as you need.
i refuse to capitalize because i am an anticapitalist.
social engineering is a form of divination. the alarms have been sounding at a pitch we do not notice anymore. hoard your amphetamines. the worst isn’t coming. it’s here. and we are all just one mass casualty incident away from unlocking our highest potential. radical compassion will not save you. a daisy in the barrel of a gun was never meant to be a strategy. our most lethal weapons are those of subversion. of trickery. of distortion. thousands of glowing eyes surveilling what surveils us.
are you ready to bleed for what you love? we are circling the drain. all the euphoria is gone. laced up leather boots. irridescent butterflies swirl like smoke in the distance. apocalyptic chic. you better hold on to what is left of me.
