1/02/2006
Fuck What to Do
01.20.2005
11.15.2003
Fuck you. Fuck Yours Truly, fuck your alter egos, fuck Langston Hughes, and fuck every fantasy figure you've ever secretly yearned or fantasized to become. Fuck your fantasies, fuck your desires. Fuck your face in the previously unshattered room, fuck your staged suicide. Fuck your cigarettes, medi-pills and drugs. Fuck your six-foot mouth-blown green glass bong. Fuck your pretensions, fuck your fans, fuck your security guards and fuck the cops. For good measure fuck your road manager, too. Fuck your mama, papa, baby brother and the record company that owns your DNA. Fuck your agent. Fuck every DJ that's ever scorned your name. Fuck your past present and future fuck. Fuck your emotions, your apathy delight and third-rate psychotropicly engineered desire. Fuck your need to breathe. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck the millions who've heard your voice in malls and pre-installed car radios. Fuck your record albums, fuck your art. Fuck you curling-iron hair and fuck your heart. Fuck your blood and your fists and your raggy-ass toe-poking socks. Fuck all your dreams. Fuck your anger, fuck your apologies. Fuck your resentment rage guilt and denouement. Fuck resolution. Fuck your conscience and small voice fucking your head. Why the fuck are you listening to me? Fuck your voices. Fuck your insanity. Fuck your hallucinations, desperation, Fuck your ennui. Fuck your French pretensions, fuck your sentiments. Fuck sense and sensibility. Fuck me. Fuck your cluttered thoughts and spinning mind. Fuck your downward spiral. Fuck your bandages and doled-out sympathy. Fuck commiseration, consolation and fuck your paperback vocabulary. Fuck your pirated porn, your hijacked emoticons, your pusillanimous proselytizing psychology. Fuck your nobility, your self-denial. Fuck your better half, your darker side, fuck your huddled masses yearning to breathe free. Fuck your patriotism. Fuck your president. Fuck your voting system, your toll-booths and freeways fuck your enlightenment democracy. Fuck your caring. Fuck your hope, fuck your faith flickering God in a dark world. Fuck your opinions prejudices and doubt. Fuck you and your listening to me. I'm not going to tell you what to do. Your expectations are telling you what to do. ¶ 2:27 AM
11.15.2003
Fuck you. Fuck Yours Truly, fuck your alter egos, fuck Langston Hughes, and fuck every fantasy figure you've ever secretly yearned or fantasized to become. Fuck your fantasies, fuck your desires. Fuck your face in the previously unshattered room, fuck your staged suicide. Fuck your cigarettes, medi-pills and drugs. Fuck your six-foot mouth-blown green glass bong. Fuck your pretensions, fuck your fans, fuck your security guards and fuck the cops. For good measure fuck your road manager, too. Fuck your mama, papa, baby brother and the record company that owns your DNA. Fuck your agent. Fuck every DJ that's ever scorned your name. Fuck your past present and future fuck. Fuck your emotions, your apathy delight and third-rate psychotropicly engineered desire. Fuck your need to breathe. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck the millions who've heard your voice in malls and pre-installed car radios. Fuck your record albums, fuck your art. Fuck you curling-iron hair and fuck your heart. Fuck your blood and your fists and your raggy-ass toe-poking socks. Fuck all your dreams. Fuck your anger, fuck your apologies. Fuck your resentment rage guilt and denouement. Fuck resolution. Fuck your conscience and small voice fucking your head. Why the fuck are you listening to me? Fuck your voices. Fuck your insanity. Fuck your hallucinations, desperation, Fuck your ennui. Fuck your French pretensions, fuck your sentiments. Fuck sense and sensibility. Fuck me. Fuck your cluttered thoughts and spinning mind. Fuck your downward spiral. Fuck your bandages and doled-out sympathy. Fuck commiseration, consolation and fuck your paperback vocabulary. Fuck your pirated porn, your hijacked emoticons, your pusillanimous proselytizing psychology. Fuck your nobility, your self-denial. Fuck your better half, your darker side, fuck your huddled masses yearning to breathe free. Fuck your patriotism. Fuck your president. Fuck your voting system, your toll-booths and freeways fuck your enlightenment democracy. Fuck your caring. Fuck your hope, fuck your faith flickering God in a dark world. Fuck your opinions prejudices and doubt. Fuck you and your listening to me. I'm not going to tell you what to do. Your expectations are telling you what to do. ¶ 2:27 AM
