Thankyou's and Sandshoes

Sandshoes me, for being so brilliantly twisted and strangely psychotic that every thought is littered with destruction and sadness. Everything I touch is tainted by my melancholy. Everything I see is a painful reminder of torturous memories. Every smell lifts me up then teasingly wafts away. Everything I taste is bland and stagnates in my gut. All that I hear haunts my ears and wrenches my heart this way and that. My stomach churns whenever confronted by the promise of passion, because I know it will wither and flee, and I will never be able to let it go. Sandshoes me, for having no ability to enjoy a moment totally, that a flutter of joy is smashed and annihilated with a lifetime of pent-up: hateangerloathingrageconfinementtearsscreamsgroans and self-mutilated consciousness. Sandshoes me, for losing my mind constantly and only just regaining enough sanity to function without self-destructing. Sandshoes for standing hand in hand with Satan as his advocate of evil and madness and never having long enough arms to reach and touch the hand that could save and comfort me from my wraiths and ghouls of horror and derangement. Wherefore art thou, O Lord? Where be thy guidance? Where be thine eternal love and warmth? I find death. I find death, always and ever death, and rotting, and stench. Take it away, My Father. Whither be thou peace and salvation? Gone? No, it was never even here. I continue to drown in my hell, the only reality and only salvation ever. Ha! Die with my demons, O Lord of Nothing! Disappear into my abyss of blackness along with your false hopes and lies, lies, LIES! Thank you, for nothing, Father of Failure, Inferno and Holocaust. Thankyou me, for I am my own Lord, and a deity unto chaos. Salvation, peace… Gone? To return? No, it was never even here. Never even here.Am I a sook? Written October 22nd, 2001 © on Oct 22 2001 01:35 AM PST   18 • 0 • 1