Night Fighter(languagePG)

Am I really wasting away? Rotting alone in my self imposed prison, Praying to the god of pie to keep My religion free and unhindered? What is my religion anyways? Is it the unwelcoming religion of shit? Is it the uncaring god of fuck? I am so unimpressed with the liklihood of Getting anywhere but here. Going... Where could I be going? Anywhere but here? Where is that pillow I used to sleep on that held my head in place? I feel like a crucified tart. A pastry that is none too delectable and surprisingly tough... For a pastry. Doughy. Squishy thoughts are revolving and saturating, My aching thundering head. Eating itself from the inside out. I am figuratively eating myself.... I taste like a bitter mixture of chicken and tobacco... I taste like hate, jealousy and spite... I taste like a burned waffle. Why is it that I can't do this? What you ask, can the great nightfighter not do? I can not pull my lip up over my head and swallow. I can not lift 500 pounds. I can not, not let the door hit me on the ass on the way out. I can not do many things... Swallowing... The bitter bile that is the one... That utter nonsense I deem to be poetry... Releasing all this flatulance. Sickening, farting, burping, brain farts are welcoming me home. Welcome to the night life... Of a wandering drunken monkey... Hello and salut! Now have another on the house... You'll need it to understand. Who really understands? No one.. Metaphors amuse me and make me.... shy? sick? Who knows.... See you in the next life. See you in this life... See you when the wind blows onto my plate and knocks my chips to the ground. Shallow, Wastefull, Irritating... Welcome to the truth about NIGHTFIGHTER.Frustrated with....I don't know what...Myself Maybe? Written April 13th, 2002 © on Apr 12 2002 06:59 PM PST   18 • 0 • 14