So I just encountered this song on this old ass crazy burned CD that my incarcerated friend made for me I felt like I needed to blog so it became inspiration for me to write this little jaunt in two seconds hope you enjoy it and fuck the grammar, take it as a lyrical fart with no wind. Ha.
Here I am in the heart of my city in the heart of my brain and I can't wait til its ozone depletes and we sip acid rain, its all fake smiles and i don't love sanctity but i love restoring braincells, after abusing phenethylamines through the magic of neurobioplasticity - you can't imagine the guilt because it's just not even there, i just breathe in pollution and choke on fresh air so i deserve myself and all my great magics, I live on the brink, i own my insanity like the pathologist holding winehouse's toxicity report dripping red ink - it could be pathology or maybe disorder but it's like seeing whistling coroners after taking the first sip of a drink they just paid for, left and ordered - the relief is enormous it's the size of a ship, too constipated from opiates to consider a shit, too stupid to realize all of this isn't more important than wit - i'll become a philanthropist, get sober - go to the tropics and plant lots of coca and let the world know i just wanted to know ya in thirty five years when the CIA unseals my dossier.
- For all the future ultra-narcissist hezbollah brats that blindfold their women and smack them with bats, grilling brats in their backyards, breeding bats to eat rats, praying to the Koran and the Bible in a holy matrimony that's laughing lackluster tragic.
No fucking wonder I've been diagnosed with shit just on the basis of my confiscated journals...
