stale.

i sought soiled burdens. corpulent fort holding palace like bullshit homes we call the hearts of many. caring becomes creepy and then the seriousness of judgement becomes creeping towards permeable eyes; slightly open at night to view the very fabrics of the boogie man; who we call self-conscienceness..next to superfilous independence. it's just a bunch of bullshit once you realize why we sheath away our pompous fucked up spurts of bullfuckingshit.

fuck the economy.

fuck the judgment.

fuck the judged.

fuck the ass in embarrassment.

fuck the sex in seconds in a life.

fuck the movement.

fuck the grypes.

and forget the martyrs.

and remember the forgetful.

for they are not.

what we will become.

carbon footprints are tricky. becareful what you leave here.