Have you spoke with a ghost , real or not ?
Like a currently used ashtray sending elaborate signals unto the bleak modern wall, around your mental workshop ?
Cigarette vapors weaving a delicate stimulation to our corporeal senses
Square eyed screw holes blocking out the sustained vibrations of something other than the blasphemous pursuit that we all pretend to hold in vehemence
What do you say of suffering ?
Can we maintain the hollow reassurance of what was ?
Fragments of nostalgia deluding our here and now
Snapshot stares prancing around the dull and dumbfounded expedient that we name perception
Locked to an overwhelming embrace ; vanity and the subjective fornicating amongst themselves
Pleasuring oneself on the futility that is temporary satisfaction
Dumbfuck cunts and pricks , screwing every pathetic pursuance that makes itself seem obvious
I've waited long enough to have someone admit the acceptance of what they deny
Overcoming the narrow passages that plague the idiotic wonderance that is our humanity
If vulgarity were to have an effect on extremity than our menial complaints would bask in their own self righteous purpose