Her crude cunt vomits corrosion to those whom denounce her superiority. Eight legs tap her web. Sickly sweet secretion lay a trail to the furnace. Burn with me. She feels where your spider mind treads. Despisers of the flesh making scapegoats of insects be slew. A dry cuisine.

Did my mind spring a leak?

I can hear her exoskeleton clicking in the periphery of my cerebral cortex. Devil dog pisses on the lamppost that is my brain stem. This is his territory where only she may walk – the bitch. Mindwitch. Graffiti the shadow in bleeding red lipstick. All toxicity is ordained. Total war is sacred. Fear is no longer a concept. It collapses into dust. Choking scuttling hordes beneath crumbling towers of empty commerce. She stands over and unravels a tit. “Feed my pretties, feed!”

For a day-job I work in film set fabrication, but that's not nearly close to the feeling I get when I'm writing or creating music. I'm currently working on several screenplays, but this site is where I come to dump my quick-fire ramblings and expunge difficult emotions or experiences. I hope you take something from these writings. Each and every one of them comes from the heart.

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