not sickness. desire
2005-11-21 - 12:05 a.m.

for me there are no Pleasures
of the Flesh; my pleasure lies
within the lack of Flesh, the
fat the skin a cancer, spreading.
a disease. a filth; i want
to be but bones, thin crystal veins,
and paper skin. a white
of bleach and snow and purity.
i want to lie and waste away,
ten million days, and rise
Reborn, from beds of flesh and soil,
a Butterfly; a perfect beauty.

the coolest song in the world right now is:smoke on the water
if i were an emoticon i'd be:tired and too fat.

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