Use your head for once

I
When life is in the grey, you really don’t know how to react to it, especially if you believe in changing at breakneck speed. Forgive me, but I can’t forget Joker (the Batman one). I am smiling in sadness because paradoxes are the only way to live. Balances are ill-gotten and mediocre, dissatisfaction is the sole inspiration for a scribe. If I make a mark in the world, I would be a sad person. If I didn’t…

Bloody paradox again

II
You don’t know how flesh, especially your own matters when it is the hands of someone you covet. You don’t feel much of an enigma anymore, just defined by the body that you accidentally bump into. You are just a piece of air around him as he comes alive, for the first time as a human. His ugliness is suddenly so beautiful. The tiny ears, the minuscule nose which barely fills his big face is absolutely the only thing you want.

Beauty is fuck-all, it hurts to think we are programmed to be affected by it. Ugliness, it makes you think; you could run all around the room just to go and puke out the blood-coloured mess that grows inside you when you see ugly and maybe when you smell ugly you will retch.

Always trying to get it out, aren’t we? Thinking we are beautiful inside and in the process of vacating the shit and the mess, we are purifying ourselves. What is that term we use to sanitize bulimia?

Purging

Little do we understand in our little unconscious minds that the removal only makes place for more. Programmed to evacuate like there’s hope. In a distant future, I’ll began overhauling my skin hoping to give you and everybody else my inner beauty (huh?): there isn’t much of it, but maybe the gloss and the kohl will fool you into thinking I do.

Point being…

I’ll always be ugly. Oh no sir, wouldn’t want to be another chord that fits right in your programmed heads. Don’t accept me, let me make you think.

Please.