the fight for individuality and the irony of identity fraud(everyone wants to be someone else)

this is the land of the free who chose slavery. an ever expanding suburbia built with strategically placed tombstones. your coffin is just part of the scenery. never mind the green in our eyes or the ink on our skin, we built this three car garage with integrity and the sweat on our brows. elastic lips. we're impailed on our white picket fences. once friends, now buisness associates. just another conquest. steel and plastic nametags twist and form into the shape of a heart. socially accepted contortionist. every smile rhymes and every kiss hints at silverscreen innocence. like riding a merry-go-round on the highway.

the future of the entire world and human civilization:

"Under Construction. Please excuse our dust."

horror story

have you heard the rumors about the creature that lurks down by the shallow creek? the hiddeous monster with a manipulator's soul. with naive curiosity burried in their hearts, he draws the children to come play with an inviting smile. once they have all too willingly given their trust, he uncovers his fangs and feeds on their innocence. at a glance his face looks normal, but underneath discover brittle scales and open wounds. his eyes are clouded with a milky grey and filled with war. a war surrendered so long ago in the fight to keep his heart alive. it seemed like a worthy cause at the time, but now the calvary drinks deep from a jaded cup. from his mouth grows a plastic boquet. but hidden behind seductive color lies a slippery tongue dripping with poison. from each cracked tooth his victim's flesh hangs. you'll feel compelled to release your problems and darkest secrets into the safety of his empathetic ears. but say too much and he'll swallow you into that deep canal. this beast has followed me to the end. he haunts my every thought. i will kill him and set us free. cut out his lungs and give life back to this dead town and all his slaves. as i press my hands up against my face i peel the scales away and run my fingers over new scars. i look into the mirror with empty eye sockets and try to cry but no tears come. i open my mouth to scream but only synthetic petals fall from my lips. i can hear them praying for deliverance inside the dark keep of my mind. have you heard the legends of the villian down the street? they're all true.