My Mind's Splooge.

I'm sick to death of seeing miserable people, poor and horrible, with their starving children--when their dogs are merely hungry.

I'm sick to death of seeing apeshit richies roaming about the streets acting hard. One punch would lay them out.

I'm sick to death of seeing ignorance manifested in disgusting schools. The system favors self-gratifying self-destruction. If only idiots knew this.

I'm sick to death of seeing blank brains trying to act like geniuses. They have nothing to say, and their breath stinks.

I'm just sick to death of seeing.

This is the splurge shooting out from my mind's penis. I need the release. Just let its white hot energy stain your monitor screen.

I am the skinny psychopath, white and weird, that stalks about at strange paces with fists clenched and back straight. I talk to myself everywhere I go.

Look askance at me and I'll fry you with words.