|
|
|
|
| Phenom | Kingz | Dabatos | TonySelf | Tha Q | Half Breed | Tito | 7th End | RV Radio  |
07-19-06, 10:47 PM
|
#5
|
|
|
Just searching.
|
IP:
 One-Sided Discussions with Lucifer He winks; his undulating eyelids resemble the exoskeleton of a clam, and a pearl resides within; each choreographed movement pirouettes him across the sunken land of a parched Michigan… he tells me this used to by earthly residence; his cloven hooves click tattoos on the cobblestones. “Have I told you the meaning of life?” he queries, assisting me in my determined hobble home. We pass through the sunken streets, where the acres of mangroves’ vertical roots are palisades, so large and overgrown --- it is necessary to gather oxygen remnants from the sky: it’s marmalade, with iron oxide clouds that part to allow the passage of polychromic meteors --- are they missiles? “Humans sometimes expose themselves to the corrosive religions.” His voice is high as a whistle. “They cut themselves with Occam’s razor; they eat with Hume’s Fork; drink blackberry Merlot. And yet still believe that a religion they claim to follow will save them from the –err…below? It’s rather interesting so see how hive minds work. Don’t honor thy parents, inject hormones directly into their veins as teenagers, don’t even go along with the Sabbath; just stay home!” I stare at him and his rhapsodic reveries. His cloven hooves make the cobblestones gurgle; His clam-eyes revolve in their sockets in exasperation; he paces about in agitated circles… “Be yourself!” Morningstar, Lucifer, the Fallen, Defiler; he sighs, his arms stretch upward, and the dream-spectrum meteors twinkle in response, sharply adjusting to depart southern. “How chaotic the Universe is. The Earth isn’t round. We are heliocentric. Humans are stupid. Do you know the number of true Christians actually exists, all clueless idiots are excluded? I can count them one hand (though I do have extra fingers). Tell me that isn’t all outrageous. They sit in their own self-created state of ignorance, easily escaped by flipping through pages.” He sits, flexible legs twisting into a pretzeled half-lotus. “Come, sit here, I hope you’ll join me. We have until Krishna or Jesus or Quetzalcoatl or whoever appears. I have a thousand stories. And they’re all concerning how much I hate people.” Oh God. Save me from this hell. Last edited by Crazy Hades : 07-19-06 at 10:54 PM. |
|
|
|
| Thread Tools | Search this Thread |
| Display Modes | |
|
|
Threaded Mode