Tuesday, September 06, 2005
Sometimes you catch yourself being yourself - and you don't understand how you managed to grow up and become a dick. You start to tap your finger against your temples and then stop when brain starts to ooze out.
I feel like a million bombs reproduced at the rate of cockroaches and had an orgy in my gut and have now exploded. All that's left now - are regrets, memories and my two pointy fingers.
This is how I'm typing the drivel that you're reading now. But I'm leaving red blood marks on the keyboard letters.
I don't know why and when I became a wandering Frankenstein. Ask the Doctor. Ask the millions of innocent, little girls with snapped necks that I've left behind in my travels.
I am not a nice man.
I am not a nice monster.
I am not ANYTHING.