Watching football makes me feel uneasy. It is a display of unnatural human abilities. It is a perversion of the human body design. We marvel at it, we enjoy engaging in it. I think it's how kangeroos feel when they watch a kangeroo boxing match.
Alot of stuff are perverted. Removed from the original design. Overclocked CPUs. Blues drivers. Toilet paper. Singapore's appetite for good (or not) food. Racing with rats. Progressive music. Unitarians. First world economics. Reality television. Formal education. Sleeping late. Milo Dinosaur. Face it, we love perverted stuff. We only don't realise it because someone told a lie. That this is how it's supposed to be. That no one can say how things are supposed to be. That I don't have to change because that's just who I am. That I am the most important person in the world.
The best part of 'believe' is the 'lie'.
I feel very injured. But bend and not break, bend and not break. Be sanctified. It's all very 'ouch' now. Very unhealthy. Very constipated. Very shaken. I need a Children's Day break.
I have a strong craving for lemon tea. But Milo will do for now.
I hope to be a vanguard. Not the kind in leadership, but the kind in blue, pink, green, yellow and white, the kind that costs all but thirty cents. Or maybe forty-five cents.
I hope to be a transparency. See me through. Look through my window, see how swollen my lungs are.
I hope to be a PVC pipe. Laminar flow doesn't quite happen, except in idealizations.
I know now, you're my only hope.
I am feeling a tiny fraction of the hatred that Luther felt for himself. I'm so ugly! It's so amazing how I sometimes feel so beautiful. So irksome. I think we should all embrace one another and tell the truth. About how we are as ugly as horses and how we are all perverts. And how we love horses and perverts all the same.
I said, alright, alright, alright
You make the calls tonight
I surrender, to your love
Alot of stuff are perverted. Removed from the original design. Overclocked CPUs. Blues drivers. Toilet paper. Singapore's appetite for good (or not) food. Racing with rats. Progressive music. Unitarians. First world economics. Reality television. Formal education. Sleeping late. Milo Dinosaur. Face it, we love perverted stuff. We only don't realise it because someone told a lie. That this is how it's supposed to be. That no one can say how things are supposed to be. That I don't have to change because that's just who I am. That I am the most important person in the world.
The best part of 'believe' is the 'lie'.
I feel very injured. But bend and not break, bend and not break. Be sanctified. It's all very 'ouch' now. Very unhealthy. Very constipated. Very shaken. I need a Children's Day break.
I have a strong craving for lemon tea. But Milo will do for now.
I hope to be a vanguard. Not the kind in leadership, but the kind in blue, pink, green, yellow and white, the kind that costs all but thirty cents. Or maybe forty-five cents.
I hope to be a transparency. See me through. Look through my window, see how swollen my lungs are.
I hope to be a PVC pipe. Laminar flow doesn't quite happen, except in idealizations.
I know now, you're my only hope.
I am feeling a tiny fraction of the hatred that Luther felt for himself. I'm so ugly! It's so amazing how I sometimes feel so beautiful. So irksome. I think we should all embrace one another and tell the truth. About how we are as ugly as horses and how we are all perverts. And how we love horses and perverts all the same.
I said, alright, alright, alright
You make the calls tonight
I surrender, to your love
0 Responses to “”
Post a Comment