Cassidy's Second Warning

I think it's time to sever ties. To seperate myself from false Gods and hopeless thoughts. I'm not searching for any answers...a nice hole for me to rot in would do just fine. Every once in a while there's some asshole that decides to take a stand...gives everyone hope for a few days, never lives up the hype and falls into obscurity after a year or two. I guess I'm just getting jaded by this routine. I never fell for it, though. I was never one to put my trust in a man wearing a black suit and striped tie. It's just disheartening to watch your loved ones duped time and time again by money hungry sleazebags. We all end up with a bullet in our head someday. I can tell you one thing, though. The word 'hope' isn't grafitti-ed on any wall on this entire fucking planet. Honestly, we're just a foolish business venture gone terribly wrong, and it just isn't fair. Not fair at all. I just have to keep this mental note in my head from now on- Don't trick yourself into thinking it'll be okay. If I remember that, maybe I'll make it through.

Diary of K #1

Would now be an acceptable time to make a wish on a shooting star? I haven't seen a star like you in ages. Burning bright like a can of slagsquish exploding and imploding suddenly. My world is full of filth, and we're all bleeding apathy. There must be something more... Must be more than running from demons your entire life. But that's what my life has consisted of so far. Always running...from monsters. But running towards what? Serenity? Or decrepitude?

They say that we're not worth saving, but I say we are.
This shooting star grows closer...but it's too late, and my eyes refuse to stay open. I dream of the great unknown. I wake up to see it's all the same.

                                               - K

sticky fingers
covered in blisters
break your back in a game of twister

scum sucker
num chucker
dirty little motherfucker

you deserve what's coming to ya

Cassidy's First Warning:

There’s a faint odor in the air. I want to keep on writing, because it’s the only thing I know how to do these days. It’s the same thing over and over again. Work, sleep, masturbate, complain, write, repeat. All week long. The writing isn’t getting me anywhere, as I’m terrible at it. But I still feel that it keeps me sane, at least for the time being. There are people crying out for help, twelve or fifteen planets away. Crying because their homes have turned into police states, their families turned into glorified slaves, and their minds plagued with intruders called nanotwins. I’m tempted to say I’m jealous of their fate. It might be nice to have some authority, some law and order, as unjust as it may be. Where I’m from- a planet with no name on the edge of the galaxy, the company doesn’t dare visit. They don’t dare control us. Not because they’re scared, but because they do not view us as life forms at all. With no central government, no school systems, we’re rotting from the inside out. And the stench of our planet can be smelled from 2000 light years away. I’m not writing this to ask for help, I’m writing this to warn you. Stay the hell away. I have no idea why you’d want to come here, but just keep on driving. Drive past the border, and you might just reach the promised land. This galaxy is too consumed with hatred to be saved. If you land here, you will be stuck in our dirt pile for the rest of your miserable lives. And I don’t want that for another single soul.

 Stay the fuck away. 

sunday's wisdom

get behind me jesus.
this sunday is for me and only me.
i'll be the man i was born to be.
sunday's wisdom.

14 drops.

the blood drips with rhythm.
 4 drops every hour, on the hour.
 the box you keep inside your chest holds all the power. 
you know how to open it, but your hands are weak
 they're shaking and twitching as i pull out my key
 they say when one door closes, another one opens
 but i'm not convinced that i won't be locked in a padded room
 for the rest of my eternity
 you have to make a choice, i have to make a choice
 drop the key on to the floor, feeling weak at the knees.
 swinging and swaying, you fall headfirst through the door.
 the blood drips with rhythm. 10 drops every hour, on the hour.