this dead man is the punchline, history is the joke

 

the architecture of history

 

[you're not safe, you never will be until the day you're dead]

 

notes on finding the one true religion

 

when you finally dream the last day of your life

 

hieronymus bosch in the age of rust

 

We were silent while the boat sank

 

middle of the afternoon and an absence of god

 

the rivers of rusted metal and the murdered children who sleep there

 

carry me home

manson was a rock star

 

after all of us are dead, none of this will matter

 

we'll need to figure out where to score

 

the brittle heart

 

this well-fed asshole going through your pockets while you bleed to death

 

so much air to breathe, but all you can do is smother

 

[certain places we are not meant to return to]

 

a mouthful of blood is a mouthful of blood is a mouthful of blood

 

can't be a whore if you aren't willing to get fucked

 

drinking the blood of those who would fight to keep you down