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My Most Straight Forward Fucking Blog Ever.

I feel like I'm on the verge of a ceizure. No doubt it's the over dose of my prescription, and other pills. My eyes are dialated, my pupils are red, and my self-esteem is more down cast than it has ever been. Call me EMOtional. Call me Gothic. Call me depressed. Call me a drug abuser. Call me a sex induldgent. Call me a drunk. Call me a self-pittying bitch. Call me grotesque. Call me a promoter of homosexuality. Call me a creative intellectual that will never be intuned with reality. Call me a Godless bastard. Call me a self-mutilating freak. Call me a suicidal. I don't give a fuck. I'll accept all of those socital titles that make thier victim my head. I'm passionate though, non-judgmental, and I have a deep compassion for my friends. That must be why people listen to me, but are well aware that I can't figure out my own fucked up life. I despise overly religious people, who I've been rejected by. I despise preps that will never understand the human psyche. I despise retarded jocks that think the world will roll them in life. I never hated the one true God, but the God of the people I hated. I used to be spiritual. I still am philosophical. I used to be a devoted Christian that wanted to be an evangelist. I made people rethink thier beliefs, and proved that a Christian could relate to them and love them. But my "Christian" friends were never true to thier beliefs, and thought that they could give thier fake praise and worship, but not listen to the wisdom of proverbial scripture in the bible, reject everyone in the world not like them, and didn't respect other people's beliefs. Everytime that I looked to God for answers, my life went into a shit hole. I figured out more things in life as an individual. But ofcourse you're satanic without hanging your hopes on an individual that can allegedly save you and said he'd be back soon, and it's been over 2000 fucking years. Ofcourse, Armageddon is close every generation, right? And thier are too many contradictions in the bible to be considered to be the unfallible word of God. (Ask me that shit personally. I coulde be a goddamn bible scholar with the studies that I've read.) How many fucking times do we have to retranslate it and revise it before we get it correct? My life is so fucking void right now. I don't care who the fuck calls me overly emotional. They can go fuck themselves. I just wish that I could have a close friend that I could relate to or a non-deceptive God that I could have a relationsahip with, and actually depend on. The truth is that I feel spiritually dead, and life's rejected bum. The dead in grave yards inspire me, and the rejected I can relate to. If there is any divine inspiration out there, how can I believe when I feel so rejected and lost? I don't give a fuck if any reader feels like I'm deluding myself. I live a life of indudgence because of your rejection that victimizes people for your lack of tolerance, and condemnation for people that think different from you. You are nothing but a Goddamn Pharisee! If anyone deserves to go to Hell, it's you! I die and bleed crimson regret another day. Call my name, and save me from the dark.

Life's Delusional Ecstasy And It's Perging Travesties

Once again, I look to nature's ecstatic supplement to numb a soul-mutilating and worthless existence that refuses to perish. At times, after becoming routinely high, I fall into a dark consciousness, hoping not to wake up, as a slowly suffocate myself in my dreams. Why Mother, have you retired from labor to isolate yourself, in your lamentations in a solitary spirit, far removed from this world? Why do you insist that your ecclesiastes is the result of your surroundings, yet take no resposibility for your owned sloth and fallacies? Why Father, is your esteem always stricken? Why is the resolution to to the faint in spirit to exclude them? Why are your resolving solutuions and threats consist and persist of kicking them the fuck out of "your house?" Why is the individual strangled and linched like a sheep that is lead to the slaughter? Why are ones with higher thoughts victimized like the sawing of a chicken's head in a paultry plant? Why does the divine remain mute, when the desolate of heart cries out to it. The screaming son cries in excrutiating agony to redeem the world of it's transgressions. "Father! Why have you forsaken me!?" Then he relinquishes his spirit into heavenly arms, in finality of an unmentioned sacrifice that iconed his name and divided the world. It is written in a paradox script that you seek the seeker. Here I stand at the alter, seeking, refusing to kneel for allof the grievences and disappointment clipped on my head, a ring of thorns. Two crude boards crossing each other to have two nails placed in my wrists, and one driven into my feet sounds like fried steak with gravy. Light a flame to arrouse your sedistic pleasures while you're at it. What ethical authority places a ringed suffering around the necks of the innocent? How can the pure murder babies, and allow them to be murdered? What is your deepest fear? Do you regret our existence? What majesty ever came from abandoning angels, killing flesh, and creating an abyss for thier disbelief? Goddamn the conversation that I engage in my silent conscience, awaiting answers from an aborted monotheistic deity that never gave a fuck of it's creation, or was invented and never existed. Shouldn't creation have been asked if it wanted to exist before the molding? Why does self-inflicted authority tower over us, working us like expendable machines, as life horrifically sucks from thier empty tits? Life, where is your grueling sting? Death be not proud! Your satisfaction is expressed with humanity's last slit.