Seclusion was his Science by Eterna
Seclusion was his Science by Eterna
it came to pass that seclusion
became his science
the boy was now a teenager, coming into his manhood..
and a pathetic excuse for a teenager he was..
like that of his fellow students
randomly committing petty crimes..
the cigarettes became his sense of adventure..
and .h.f. became his feeling of fitting in..
being cool.. down with the homies
the thievery filling him with a foreboding emotion of dread
he was sinking down into the decay of the criminal
the boy was something he couldnt understand..
should he be awed and astounded?
or just be hateful and ignorant?
he spouted his macabre shit, so proud and boisterously..
so boastfully..
leading him on, goading him into slavery..
waxing eloquence, defiling all preconceived beliefs..
with his unholy altar of blasphemy..
his meaty hand flowing gracefully..
the ink creating worlds of wonder upon the white paper..
he liked to spin up whole worlds..
because a person couldnt fit as easily through a page, see?
his abrasive style of everything hit hard..
slipping easily through cracks in the weak foundation..
and the boy undeniably inevitably tested his luck..
being like the man he worshipped, whos eye he was always under..
whos mind he was linked to with stout chains..
under the banner of friendship..
but of course it was a slavery.. by free will or force?
and the boy, although self-assured and confident..
was the same as each of us in turn..
his intelligence far superior than the rest of us meager fucks..
and just as surely as words erupted in frustration..
and a thousand other emotions..
friend and friend, master and slave, parted ways..
so the nave boy could travel his own way..
which eventually would meet up with the man once again..
theres no way to recall
what it was that you had said to me
like I care at all.
the mystical and weary road to spiritualism was futile..
oh, how the pagan polytheism was tiring
and in his love for everything, he encountered someone..
someone who he used as an object of escape..
like a drug.. a drug you cannot quit sniffing and snorting..
an object he used as an object for his suffering..
as he erected an altar and placed her upon it..
and just as surely as he loved her with all of his penis..
she used her infidelity to drag him down the road of mud..
teasing his emotions and hormones with her flirting, flitting body..
a month, a month, his kingdom for a month..
a week, - a week, -
positive, negative, positive, negative, negative, negative
as the world crumbled indefinetely around him..
all innocence, all navity, all, it, all, everything..
everything sacrificed to the god of misanthropy
all he owned thrown away to be replaced by the spirit of nihilism
everythings gone in this world of shit
the only poison hed ever devoured passionately and willingly
had all dried up, been tied up, was dead to the world
as the homies had been too many in number one dreadful day..
chains like serpents, waiting to strike..
baseball bats like their phallic perversions..
the testosterone running through them..
not unlike to the blood that flowed steadily down the pavement from his head..
the knives, newly sharpened, like the impaling spears of medieval ages..
he thought he was invincible, like he could handle anything..
that came his way, of course..
he wasnt the instigator
and the chisel ground away, each chip coming in rapid succesion..
to the preceding one..
until the letters .C.R. were engraved in the black marble..
the blackest of black..
and the boy shakes his dumbfounded head to clear it..
his trembling legs tighten, muscles clenching together..
his hands resting on the table top, to lift himself..
as he reaches into his tattered pocket..
fingers clasping the ammount of money for the bill..
and throws it onto the table, as the coins spin..
we all look so perfect, as we all fall down
standing above the crowd
he had a voice that was strong and loud
well miss him
ranting and pointing his finger
at everything but his heart
well miss him.