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A while back I did a little thing:
http://ukchatforums.reserve.co.uk/ display_messages.php?threadid=93670&forumid=423
And decided to try and do another and just be wacky and....well entertain you. Whether a sequel be possible, I dunno. Enjoy it anyway, it'll be a while before I do another.
-------------------------------------------
This life is now marked of a sick sexually active Prurience. Which contaminates life.
Our relationship and the place it manifests itself, it just kinda happens y'know? The hive. Our hive. It's a land-fill site full of products of our sex stains. The dripping itchy, crawling spores of our parasite infectious fluids. The site, made of synthetic chrome alloys. Be taken aback by the canopy of slimy wasted produce furnishings. Sliced Salamis and spongy vaginal wall shrapnel litter the nest.
Dya know what I enjoy about it the most? The casual mis-fit smell of the place. Utopia Isotopes. I'm fond of the way infatuations are strongly linked with my scent fettish.
Sometimes I disgust myself and hate life in general when she's not around, but I'm an ignorant hypocrite so maybe I'm just blinded by this romantic virus. Completing the cycle. This relationship is working because I'm lucky enough to be at one with myself just at the right time. I can be confident that my hideousness is forever holding it's silence since I made the sacred vows with the better part of myself.
I know it's hard for you to understand. Heh, you just had to be there. Probably another germ I've aquired from her. STD style. But lovingly gifted to me. The same inhibitor kindly gives me those green shrimp stapled-itch worthless phagocytes. They breed below the epidermis and surface so I can itch the blue flakes. I need to anticipate my turns quicker, and hope someone doesn't expose my indecent facade.
-----------------------------------
"Is that my son?! That whiney brat, one of my own? I taught him to be a man. A decent, honest man who knew how to respect certain things. Not to question the place he lives in and expect society to revolve around him. I will not allow it. He is not my son."
Well pop, maybe you should get your big F***ing head out of yesteryears ass and open your eyes to todays world.
Life being a series of distractions until we die. Is that really depressive talk? Be thankful we even have that. Deduct all appeasements, and we look fools to the foolish.
-----------------------------------
Ok, I'm back now. I have a message to my inhibitor. Before she does something like impregnate herself and others with the diseased cells I have gave her.
Face to face, put me in my place
Exploit my woes, untill the strain starts to show
Heal my wounds, so that the your light starts to flow
Awash me with my salty tears, purify me of my sacred fears
The wrongness of my sinful deeds, show me where this unholy path leads
For you and only you, my summer flower, will be my light in this most darkest hour
I drape this world with a curtain. My noose-like veil that will forever alienate my belonging to normality. A warped view on life. People say I can't fit in anywhere. I say this world has decided to leave me out. Stab yourself in the eye with my opinion needles. Look at the way your vision suddenly changes. Experience me....
She's been my host for a while now. But the special guano ran out.
We did it that many times, we're almost the same. Like some two-parted mechanism. We should be trisected and publicly displayed as the wrong kind of love. My glandular input has doubled since the breeding. But the output has halved because she has drained me so much.
She's blaming me for that psoriasis on her tender skin. The rash. Itchy flakey powder once more. Red scaley patches...smells of viral pore overload and poached mushroom carcus. It's a reminder. A token of our (un)healthy neuro-erotic on/off sepulchral mistake.
We've changed. No longer are we of one. The nests in the hive is doused with some detergent. To stop my eggs hatching, my sperm pattern to become a statical magnetized force prior to conception. The energising drug that gave me my confidence is now stale. Nothing more is there to offer. Auto-intoxication. The permeable membrane, the relationship blotted everything out. The amneotic fluid that kept me from promising to make an oath to society now runs through my veins teasing me.
That climax, that 6 month initiative, all gone, the photoplasym feels sickly green.
The grotto of once oozing substance, now a necropolis illustrating too much love.
A costly reminder of our hormonal inbalance....
http://ukchatforums.reserve.co.uk/ display_messages.php?threadid=93670&forumid=423
And decided to try and do another and just be wacky and....well entertain you. Whether a sequel be possible, I dunno. Enjoy it anyway, it'll be a while before I do another.
-------------------------------------------
This life is now marked of a sick sexually active Prurience. Which contaminates life.
Our relationship and the place it manifests itself, it just kinda happens y'know? The hive. Our hive. It's a land-fill site full of products of our sex stains. The dripping itchy, crawling spores of our parasite infectious fluids. The site, made of synthetic chrome alloys. Be taken aback by the canopy of slimy wasted produce furnishings. Sliced Salamis and spongy vaginal wall shrapnel litter the nest.
Dya know what I enjoy about it the most? The casual mis-fit smell of the place. Utopia Isotopes. I'm fond of the way infatuations are strongly linked with my scent fettish.
Sometimes I disgust myself and hate life in general when she's not around, but I'm an ignorant hypocrite so maybe I'm just blinded by this romantic virus. Completing the cycle. This relationship is working because I'm lucky enough to be at one with myself just at the right time. I can be confident that my hideousness is forever holding it's silence since I made the sacred vows with the better part of myself.
I know it's hard for you to understand. Heh, you just had to be there. Probably another germ I've aquired from her. STD style. But lovingly gifted to me. The same inhibitor kindly gives me those green shrimp stapled-itch worthless phagocytes. They breed below the epidermis and surface so I can itch the blue flakes. I need to anticipate my turns quicker, and hope someone doesn't expose my indecent facade.
-----------------------------------
"Is that my son?! That whiney brat, one of my own? I taught him to be a man. A decent, honest man who knew how to respect certain things. Not to question the place he lives in and expect society to revolve around him. I will not allow it. He is not my son."
Well pop, maybe you should get your big F***ing head out of yesteryears ass and open your eyes to todays world.
Life being a series of distractions until we die. Is that really depressive talk? Be thankful we even have that. Deduct all appeasements, and we look fools to the foolish.
-----------------------------------
Ok, I'm back now. I have a message to my inhibitor. Before she does something like impregnate herself and others with the diseased cells I have gave her.
Face to face, put me in my place
Exploit my woes, untill the strain starts to show
Heal my wounds, so that the your light starts to flow
Awash me with my salty tears, purify me of my sacred fears
The wrongness of my sinful deeds, show me where this unholy path leads
For you and only you, my summer flower, will be my light in this most darkest hour
I drape this world with a curtain. My noose-like veil that will forever alienate my belonging to normality. A warped view on life. People say I can't fit in anywhere. I say this world has decided to leave me out. Stab yourself in the eye with my opinion needles. Look at the way your vision suddenly changes. Experience me....
She's been my host for a while now. But the special guano ran out.
We did it that many times, we're almost the same. Like some two-parted mechanism. We should be trisected and publicly displayed as the wrong kind of love. My glandular input has doubled since the breeding. But the output has halved because she has drained me so much.
She's blaming me for that psoriasis on her tender skin. The rash. Itchy flakey powder once more. Red scaley patches...smells of viral pore overload and poached mushroom carcus. It's a reminder. A token of our (un)healthy neuro-erotic on/off sepulchral mistake.
We've changed. No longer are we of one. The nests in the hive is doused with some detergent. To stop my eggs hatching, my sperm pattern to become a statical magnetized force prior to conception. The energising drug that gave me my confidence is now stale. Nothing more is there to offer. Auto-intoxication. The permeable membrane, the relationship blotted everything out. The amneotic fluid that kept me from promising to make an oath to society now runs through my veins teasing me.
That climax, that 6 month initiative, all gone, the photoplasym feels sickly green.
The grotto of once oozing substance, now a necropolis illustrating too much love.
A costly reminder of our hormonal inbalance....
Page:
Come back though. I'll be lurking.
Promise
Promise
I am non-verbal, drug or no. Inside, I am screaming.
And yes, I read the one the link went to.
Damn you and your attention. A cruel mirror.
I'm going.
Do you know how good / bad it is? To watch nothing for two hours, the finally get up - off the telly, and be swallowed be the dark, and the silent.
I love those moments, when the silence recognises one of its own.
Look what's happening - I sound like a ribble.
Au resevoir
And yes, I read the one the link went to.
Damn you and your attention. A cruel mirror.
I'm going.
Do you know how good / bad it is? To watch nothing for two hours, the finally get up - off the telly, and be swallowed be the dark, and the silent.
I love those moments, when the silence recognises one of its own.
Look what's happening - I sound like a ribble.
Au resevoir
An come back later....
If you want....
....
during the height of my drug abuse I became largely none verbal
If you want....
....
during the height of my drug abuse I became largely none verbal
:(
I ment the one the link goes to.
I ment the one the link goes to.
I did, as stated in t'other thread (of mine__)
Good, good - beyond that. Special, for me.
I fear I must depart.
And flick between channels for 2 hours.
Good, good - beyond that. Special, for me.
I fear I must depart.
And flick between channels for 2 hours.
Have you read the one at the top?
Good plan.
That great eedjit ruined everything///////
That great eedjit ruined everything///////
;)
Where is the "I'll miss you buddy, don't go" etc?
Where is the "I'll miss you buddy, don't go" etc?
Sickeningly brilliant, you're an exceptional writer.
Hehe.
As long as you directed it.
As long as you directed it.
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