Wednesday, 14 June 2017

F-cked up thoughts about bad bitches.

I have this recurring vision of internally dissecting beautiful women.
And rubbing their gore on the less-attractive.
Did you see "Hostel"?
Something like that.
It's not mysogyny.
It's like art.

The beauty of a woman will always be a mystery to man.
Or John (Nintendo).

"I want to feel you from the inside..."
-Nine Inch Nails, "Closer"

Imagine Beyonce on a crucifix.
Naked and bleeding from her wrists.
Piereced in her side.
Crying out of pain.
Praying for the wellbeing of her naysayers.
Unafraid.

Imagine Nicki Minaj on an altar.
Wrapped in a thin sheet.
Getting her throat slit for the success of some new bimbo.
Eyes full of reluctant fear and rage.

Women and minorities are being sacrificed for entertainment.
Don't try to be a star.
You're better off going viral.
Save your talent.
Save your soul.
Work on your craft on your own.
The real ones will know.

I'm out.
There's eyes on me.















~could he... be me?~

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