Afterbirth

There is anger on the streets tonight with the death stare conviction of Rio De Janiero favala youth who press naive tourists into hidden alleyways to be mugged. Flash floods wash the filth of the Las Vegas strip onto the door steps of suburbia, porches lined in mounds of plastic trash, furniture, and human excrement. No salvation tonight, the music is loud, intense, and unforgiving; everyone is in a hurry for sex, mainlining, and self mutilation. No time for fear right now as anonymous asshole drivers ride my bumper, seeking a personal audience of physical conflict, only to speed away when I slow down and pull over to the side of the road. Conscious knowledge consumes as the masses lay in a trap, a circular wall stretching into the furthest depths of the universe. Those who walk home on midnight streets with Norteno music jamming into their headphones contemplating what to watch when they get home later live amongst exit less walls. There is no freedom for these people. No trips around the world or the mental toughness to go out into enemy territory with nothing more than a pen and a notebook.

Let the world come at us, the stronger my violence, the faster they run, turn a quick eye, and others cast me off as some malcontent who has obviously been abused as a child. Well, either way, none shall stand in front of me. I will offer up horrors more appalling than the most perverse taboo snuff style b movies. Mirror, mirror on the wall, deliver the beast in us all, rip away the dark shell and slow motion illusions. Language can be a barricade or a battering ram depending on how it is used. Culprits come clean, face the chargers, serve out the conviction, blood acid bath rain, so cute, so chic to rub elbows with the world leader pretenders who make small talk with other con artists to legitimize their constant buffonary. Hate swells in ocean meters, causing invisible banks of sanity to overflow into the neighborhood streets. Bodies move through the currents like possessed souls on their way to hell. A fast track to work tomorrow morning while I sit around with the blinds up watching the masses down some more cocktails, puff up their chests, and spin yarns of global business endeavors with alien species in a fit of unlimited capital. Rio Beach hooker cock rot, give me your money or give me your life.