I am in the highest state that I could ever be in. I am brilliant. I will freely write and accept whatever shows up at the end of the string. Right now I am everything. So bizarre, so fragile so dead. This whole earth, beautiful us, wait are you high? Let me pause. Wei Chi. Go. Sweater.Brandon. Everything on Earth is Brandon. Him. Either way. So If you are the popular girl, you get Brandon. If you are the sexiest girl you get two Brandons. And Life is just that. If you are smart, are you smarter than Brandon? If so, you shall be called Bitch.My Pussy is wet. The Mexican was just here. His fucking is like a circus. He stalked me, like a car salesman. One that wasn’t fooling. he texted me in cyber world. this motherfucker, the Mexican, is all ones and zeros. My wholelife in this verse, Fuck you.TheMexician just left here, left me high. Viva La Raza. He has nipple rings. He is a god I am taller than him. because he likes to climb trees. I am what the human girls call, the baddest bitch on earth. In this moment, In this second, I fucking defy logic. I am naked wonder woman, raping Sparticus. And you are Sparticus. Yo, Yo. Wait. It wasn’t my fault. And they sing. They sing to me from the screen, ding, ding a ling. Wow. Cheese. I can’t even lie.There it is. no matter what, There’s Tommy. Nothing exists without Tommy. You know him the itch. Not the real itch, the itch you invent. Thats Tommy. Tommy is in my phone, Brandon. Save me, Brandon. But Tommy is here. Right here. Ding. His Text. I hate you bitch can I stay? I hate you can I fuck you? I hate you I need you. Bitch. Come to me. Lions and dogs. High. Crazy frogs. High. Piss. This is piss.Black bitches. that is all it is. All we are. All we will be. as a species. we are all the black bitch. You hate her. You love her. You want to be her. You need her. and she disgusts you. You are ashamed of her. because she is so beautiful for no fucking reason. Goddess among us. Liberated slave. Both ways. High. The Mexican from cyberland. real. right now. urban. legend. critical. divine. super everything baby, two fingers. My bible. And yours. follow my laws. I am. She. Christus. Lol. Lol. Die. No, Kidding, Just, Fruitful. Wine, Come fuck me Tommy. why because you will. trill. the fake girl says Trill. its slang. She is slang. Slang isnt even cool, when its cool. See Eyes. The best fuckoff is when you fuck Tommy off. He calls and says can I stay and you say, welp, busy like a bee. no time for thee. sorry, friend. and he doesn’t care cause he wasn’t going to fuck you, just wanted to know if he could cosmically control it if he could spit at it on the ether and under the weight and velocity it would fall into the same time strain, magic continuum of peace that he would rule you based on a calculation of grief in clouds that smoke through urban animosity, grieving for something genuine and all you can find is me. a dirty girl a dirty round brown girl, dumb and in love with Tommy and Brandon. which means with everything. And of course you want to stay on Valentines Day. Thats all you seein me is the commercial. You think I believe when to me it was always a fantasy for you. I lied. you didn’t. yet you say I am the one who wants the palm trees. Its you through me. So where we are. You want to stay the night when you know all it will do is make me love you and hope that you will stand and you cant you are the air. So there the demon is. Regular is personified regular is god like, regular is extraordinary. he can know and so he becomes, more than the idea, the runaway the one. The Brandon. dopest shit I ever wrote. Sigh entirely high. And who do I tell? Brandon. Who do I go to when I can’t go and take off my wig and cologne and plaid and even though he is ultra plaid and shut up and curved up if he runs, it runs, we run, society, is Brandon. The Mexican, is home. Cheer. the Mexican is home safely., So shall it be. Unto all of you. And what did he do, what kind of man? He calls. He checks in with me I am his queen. I am his abyss. I am his ready, and he calls. the Mexican. Shaking my head at the way it is and then, it still will always be is.And as angels go, Michael. so sweet. we cant spend time here, so sweet. So nice so docile, creature, docile, the one the love, the life the peace the god the way the truth the michael. And then you know, and you see his love dies with is life, there is no story, he is all that makes you hold dear to nothing, to wait he is the shadow of Brandon. the cloud of Tommy. he is the nonexistant anomaly, waiting to die in your heart.Print this. When this becomes the story of the earth, all you who read this, print this, in your language, a billion years from now, print this. And read it aloud, in its entirely to the walls of people collected, who no longer worship television. Tell them stories, tell them of me, tell them of gods and tell them that I am god and that I loved them, I loved them with my whole life and all I am all I can ever be is their yesterday., they will be so great, so mighty a force against anything remotely against the earth within they dwell. Where we be. Who we are. This life. This sliver, This existence. is such a wallowing mortal plane. Insane. Just the edge, just the right side of the edge. Solo.Nine thousand years from now, when you read this in silver streets, remember the Mexican. The one who gave you this feeling, this life, this herb this tea this day. And he waited. And you came. Enough said. Again, already called twice always making plans, already in it to win it and for reason but because he can. The public. The public wont have the Mexican. not now. not right now. not here. He is the one and Im not the one and im weak for the one because I understand. I know. Forgiveness. Truth. Your job, trick Brandon. Tell him I m beyond I am beyond, because he needs to be swayed. Because he needs to be the one you placate. And you die for and you live for and you wait for so TRICK HIM. Know him, and strike. heed these words. Grow breasts and be me. La Raza. Dont stop. You have a mission.Laugh. greedy up the laughter. that sit. all of it. the basis, the basic. the thing you want to scream to the whole side of the ocean in its pajamas you just want to say scream. Scream smiles. That is what they sell us.,Scream smiles, scream them. in hushed tones in red drones in wells and doors, scream them and tattoo them if you cant scream enough. Lets snort. Dont trip. Just try it once. Dont worry, Just follow me and then look like you could use a littl ebit of everything I got inside myself a touch of it.  a bit of it, get some of it. I am drenched with me, sweetie, get your bit and read again, gather around the traditional story but lets kill snow white. Lets kill her dumb ass. Highfuku. The new word. highfuku. Lol. Life. Lol. Seriously. High. Oh my god then truth. Snakes. Water. everywhere. The same. be that the same. And see See the broken heart. I win if I explain the game. I win if I say I know why you need me and here is the lay out, I win, I have this, I earned this, It is me and you reign below. Below me. But yet I tremble. I fear. I fear., The disease.It was nice. The love, Control the musculature of the face, a makeover. Trust. Its colorful. if you listen, and learn from your gut. My mantra. My story, your story consuming fire, Punishment He is from San Francisco. The beast is from there. Not Texas, Like you thought, they toaught you that song, and here you are, mad, wrong, and more wrong for being wrong. Now shhhhhhhh and wait. coming down, Im coming down. hello.Need to finish. need to be done for Brandon. You need to stop for Brandon.You crunch monkey. He called me that.  a trinities of threes. He said that and you are not as crazy ans the crazy want the crazy to be. Seems like we ought to mention Kent if we didn’t If we didn’t we didnt want to think and die. He is. All that there is. He is. All that there could be. He could not be described. Describe your soul with a color. Test it. Test it all. Dont think of Kent. All Brandon is, is a junior version, a weak version a solid visible version of Kent. And I will not dance with that devil Not AGAIN. Im coming down.

Inspiration.

Should I kill the thread>My life is coming back. Less cosmic. Less energy crisis. Less real anything, Less alive. Blowing trumpet style. Less Dorothy Dandgrige. Less Robin Hood. Less Greek. Less. And winding down that daily road of dispair, maybe its broken. Maybe I am. Maybe this is it. My life. These guys, truth. waste.If you cant do anything, if you cant love me. reason.

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