yeah I'm in a fucked up mood, things are kinda....screwed up. the thing is I dont understand exacly why, I'm still working on that. eitherway I wrtote a really good poem, here is it:
We’re all Jackals
Cap gun soldiers walk in file, to endless graves, to endless denial, cat in mouse played through and through, hiding away from out bitter truths.
how does it taste? Words spattered in your face, by the enemy within your soul, your eyes filling with omnipotent fear, a battered grunt with nothing left to feel, because I got no “feelings” and I got no soul, I am a jackal with no hole to dig and no god to sin.
So kiss your even up emotions, self-indulge in thoughts provoking, ignore the dead and focus on the beautiful, fuck the innocent and screw the kids, cause war is life and were all dead.
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