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Rated: ASR · Poetry · Philosophy · #1145104
I am all and nada,as so doomed I
I am thus in some dimension insane a little bit
for how the heck could that not fit
i am a fire,a shadow and dust
for i am yesterday and tomorrow as i must
i am sweet sourness that makes you cry
i am depressing come taste,come die
i am the reason why they started writing
i am dead perceiving it thus struggling
i am the uniquely pathetic articulation of intrinsic ageless groans
i am,therefore, sand in Sahara and simultaneously a plain stone
i am profoundly exhausted craving for the you not a mere you
i am what they refer to as "like this by a "due to..""
while i am who sees the for them invisible sun in the sky
thus and because i am NADA as so doomed i
reduced from existing , from a being to being,air sucks
existing is too much for us homosapient robots i guess







                                    When I'm in hell

When I'm dead and in hell I want you to tell them.There.Here she lies under the fuckin ground,sick of the fuckin life,a fertiliezer.
There she's dead after having been alive,or semi-so.She's in hell,but she's lived,so it was worth it.
Anyhow,she's always figured she'd end up there,being one of them,not of the goodigoodies.
One of those who said fuck it,carpe diem,nihilism rocks,though quite depressing & Sartre wasn't an idiot,though not quite the genius that Nietzsche was.
One of those who refused to be narcotized by the sweet illusion,to let their existentialist angst lead them into believing that there was black and white,that the world was safe,love absolute,that there was tomorrow after one's last today,that the goodigoodies would inherit the fuckin ratwhole we refer to as earth,that the prks of swimming against the stream didn't measure up to its inconveniences,that she had to be "better",smarter,phisically more "attractive",kinder or whatever the heck they held up so high in order to be "loved",for






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