coming out of retirement to punch a hole in the fucking screen that dared, so long ago, to bless me with any kind of happiness. the day came that the treat dangling in front of my face was pulled away. and now i look forward at the real world and spit in its face.

goodbye!

it has all been done in secret! well, no more! i can see it on the horizon. my skin’s constriction is representative of the truth. i know now! i can only hope that the euphoria is worth all of the beginning’s trail. let’s do it. let’s do it right.

through a clogged throat

i’m coming for you. i vocalize my horrors/my victories at you, great moon, and you no longer mock me with your laughter. the only constant is the increase of my volume. unbearably monstrous, the sounds steadily rise until i have broken free. the physical manifestation is this potent beam. it harbors incalculable temperatures. the case itself begins to shed until the only thing left is the clear sphere. clear, but gleaming. shining through is the joyous relief of triumph’s euphoric taste. after this…..?.., a bitter tear of dissatisfaction. (if such a tear is possible) dropping it is a relief unparalleled. the true potential will then be channeled. no audience will clap or cheer. the only audience is the witness of the final irony. it is the self.