Mr Messenger and the Heeheehaahaa Gang

I remember the days when I thought the world was a cantaloupe. The inside was soft the outside hard like "everyone but soandso". And as I grew to know my mind I saw that the metaphors were meaningless. Language was futile. Vision was untrue. Nothing was and Everything be. I met Dylan patrick soon after that.

He showed me the stars and I flew around in the mess of Isssssssnessssss for as long as I could hold my breath. It seems space lost its oxygen, as we know. I crawled through windows, the vaccuums like an included significance. Crawled down the Uughdegee Ladder and cut slip shot into mmmmMMmeee (?) and self-awareness made itself known somewhere near the back of me.

I ran with the knowledge and the Infinite was stolen by a figure without any lacking suspicion. Mr Messenger grinned like a quarter moon with slits for a nose and peaches for eyes. The colour- like Satan. I embraced the motherfucker with fading delusion and a sickening loyal understanding of the Tttttttttruth of Nnnnnnnontruth. Swallowed and developed I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am I am Not.

Boom Bababdsha shadedewouittttt shasaia....Booommmmmm Mr Messenger and the Heeheehaahaa Gang FFFFGDDDDDeeeeerrrrrriiision...............

 

Hi cutttteee.

 

pigs is beautiful