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black & joy as i was walking to work this morning, i stumbled upon a dead cat lying on the slum-area tricycle road. it was dirty black with uneven streaks of gray, brown & white, its eyes wide open, staring far, while blood & liquids spilled off its mouth. i continued my walk realizing then how such bleak wonderment once again inspired the darkside of my heart, filling my recently empty soul with a black oil of happy nihilism. good morning, darkness! i feel myself grinning inside. i have never shaved in weeks i have gained a huge belly of clumsy gluttony and have been dressing myself with torn clothes that used to be my cape of lustful charm. as i fatly sat on the late tricycle to work, i saw a legless beggar happily collecting the thrown coins from the asphalt ground, as if he was picking up bits & pieces of joy that gradually filled him up with pure natural bliss. how i wish it were that easy.			good morning darkness good morning darkness the day is black there's no more sadness behind my back the lords of torment and dogs of threat are now just voodoo dolls here in my pocket the lizard choir heralds my arrival whenever i come, the black imperial, the lord of mumbles and urine bubbles, the geek that snorts at all his troubles, today's a new day for all eternity the deadless website of rotten history we will endure & we'll survive kissing & loving our sores will be our pride. good morning darkness good morning blue good morning all dead good morning you.
	"grinning at self" it is clear now, i cannot erase the pain. now i unravel my sanity making fun of my misery first let me lock the gates away from the preachers and nuns whose sympathies cannot cure. let me dream of thoughts impure disturbing and incongruent, uneven and impossible, electric fans that act like sparrows and daisies that mumble. leave me be. as i stroll in the mall, i shall now hallucinate that im on a vast field of technicolor grasslands that sing in japanese.	i shall create my own hallucinogenic by twisting my mind and soul, and i shall spray paint it with black and yellow. by the end of the day, it shall be filled with stickers of cartoon characters and old kung fu movies. it is evil to be destructive to others i shall therefore self destruct with a silly grin

bound iron gauntlet on feeble hands sweat paints the metal rust, it clenches upon the control lever to the gigantic mass of machinery torturing the captives out of their sanity.	here i lay on the iron maiden wet with grease and blood coughing with fumes of toxic steam. the more i struggle out, the worse the pain, as chains binding my arms and legs pull me apart, flexing my veins, skin and bones, while the spikes bury deeper and deeper in my clay-feeble mass.	as the slow screeching sounds of the machines make the fear in me deeper, i hear a hollow crack and my ribs break like wet pencils one by one.	i spill blood flooding the batteries, now his toys malfunction and his playground is in chaos, in flames and electric bolts burst, the rusty pieces flay apart and oil showers all over. as my soul leaves my murdered shell, i laugh in sinister humor upon his tragic destiny. he never had me.