so who am i

[plural]

with dry and cracked lips
in this lush artificial garden
parched from lack of sustenance

perfect plastic plants
beautiful wax fruits
glistening cellophane ponds

wrap me in wires
and skull fuck me
for these fragments of consciousness
wrap them in $1.99 last chance price tags
to be sold to the lowest bidder

we are reduced ...
it doesn't matter if we
succeed or fail
are happy or miserable

all is just virtual masturbation

fuck god and his untouchable face

smoke a two hundred dollar cigar
it really doesnt matter now
only drink is left
to ease my soul

do you know what the difference
is between
a 200 dollar cigar and a 100 dollar cigar?

one hundred dollars

so fuck me
for existing in the first place

and what of truth?

there are no truths
there are no secrets

only lie upon lie upon lie
the only difference is
which side of disbelief
you choose to be on

ever wonder
if the end of the world
came and went
and we just didn't notice?

Comments

[zaiah.livejournal.com]

And what is Good [real], Phaedrus, and what is not Good?
Need we ask someone to tell us these things?


Love.
Is the Only answer.