Day 22 (Sharon's Angle is obtuse)

My style is Brechtian and I like to slap you in the face with a consistent barrage of knowledge that I'm in charge but the force with witch knuckles crack skin is just three steps away from affording a win in any sense the game is lost and never finding it's end but character development is lacking within this thing we call life so so many of the good find their way to the knife and slit wrist skeleton room paint exposure leaving families without closure and here lies someone with childlike eyes looking on and blankly past the ceiling tiles and the rank and file paper file file folder and just tattoo this word to your chest the hard pressed foundation in a bureaucratic society we all love the lie so whisper soft to me while I brush your hare and painfully stare into your soft skin looking for something within that doesn't even exist in my own perception of my self so it's a slow search for a thing called love which we cannot define and never will learn to refine my parents were happy and its been 40 years and I'm sorry if I don't have the resounding family issues you wish I did but Jesus kid other than my seasonal depression and over active imagination I am set and fucking happy so stop trying to place hooks in my back I gave up fishing a long time back.

A life built on fear not of you or anyone else but the simple fear of ones self afraid to succeed afraid to breed afraid to bleed on the carpet of my fellow man's house so quiet like a mouse crept and crawled for the cheese crumble tid bit to get you through it whatever that might be now in the shower its hard to see there is a layer of fog clouding that condenses on a mirror and when you try to wipe it the water resists and exists as a slight film hiding your expressionless face and this is the perfect image to start he day as you undoubtedly will have to hide within society but remember those who assimilate the most and preach hate with forked tongue are often the same who fall victim to auto erotic asphyxiation blue faces in bathroom stalls across America the preacher the saint and the senator our lovely guiding lights lost libido in hand belt clenching thyroid gland.

Modesty is the highest form of arrogance and I'm a naked humble man.