Blog Posts

2

• 277 weeks

  A poem

  To dream about dreaming,
  To venture within thy home.
  To get the butter you must get up, or find another way.
  You could apprehend the hand of the mindless sand, but to not water would have the castle of your, crumple to dust.
  We walk and ignore. Not knowing that the truth is behind bars, as a zoo for those who look.
  We go on with our lives not caring, less our simple minds shatter by tears.

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• 278 weeks

  Eat your friends

  EAT YOUR FRIENDS EAT YOUR FRIENDS EAT YOUR FRIENDS EAT YOUR FRIENDS EAT YOUR FRIENDS EAT YOUR FRIENDS EAT YOUR FRIENDS EAT YOUR FRIENDS EAT YOUR FRIENDS EAT YOUR FRIENDS EAT YOUR FRIENDS EAT YOUR FRIENDS EAT YOUR FRIENDS EAT YOUR FRIENDS EAT YOUR FRIENDS EAT YOUR FRIENDS EAT YOUR FRIENDS EAT YOUR FRIENDS EAT YOUR FRIENDS EAT YOUR FRIENDS EAT YOUR FRIENDS EAT YOUR FRIENDS EAT YOUR FRIENDS EAT YOUR FRIENDS most of what I say will just get you shunned by society. Being gay, having cancer, wearing

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