bestia phasmatis...
And I went up there, I said, "Shrink, I want to kill. I mean, I wanna, I
wanna kill. Kill. I wanna, I wanna see, I wanna see blood and gore and
guts and veins in my teeth. Eat dead burnt bodies. I mean kill, Kill,
KILL, KILL." And I started jumpin up and down yelling, "KILL, KILL," and
he started jumpin up and down with me and we was both jumping up and down
yelling, "KILL, KILL." And the sargent came over, pinned a medal on me,
sent me down the hall, said, "You're our boy."
...
Twelve people present, thirteen of them liars.
...
Tribute to the puppet within the walls: Have you been born yet?
Have the skies opened up and shot you down from where you stand on your make-believe facade of a castle? If only you hadn't been born.
Has the time flown by swiftly or has it stood still all these years in your cardboard box? Have the insides of your head begun to rot? Have the demons arrived in the blank spaces to menace you from within?
When the years have passed and you are no longer young, I know you will never think about it. I know you will forget. And when you finally leave, you will say, "I have lived a quite happy, prosperous life." (Amidst all the bodies)
I hope you will never learn. The surprise will shatter your thin, ugly, soul and the pieces will descend into hell where you belong. God will never teach you.
What is in your mind? You don't wonder about the echoes that sound from the vast emptiness inside.
The march of the masses in the streets. The robots with their vacant eyes and identical minds walk like the dead.
This was the oneness they talked about, that they wanted everyone to hear. This was the unity and equality. "We can change the human race," they promised. "Just believe we're right."
I hope you burn in hell for eternity.
You were always a facade. I talked to a white wall. I confided in a statue.
You lie before the words exit your lips. You lie to yourself. You lie to me.
And all of them believe your mindless lie. And all of them believe every lie the chosen few place before their pleasure-seeking eyes. "Feed me," plead the masses. "Make me whole, for I have none to guide me. Make my troubles disappear."
After a few eons we'll all tumble back into the pot and roast for awhile. I wish it'd come sooner, but He means to punish us all.
You were always full of malice. You were one of many leeches in the pond, feeding off of the successful. You louse. You parasite.
You and the rest of the robots aren't going anywhere. Your mind has atrophied. Your apathy is what keeps you alive. And when you are penniless on the street, dirty and disheveled with Satan in your veins, you'll turn back to the same old dependence.
That's all they are. Dependent. You aren't an individual. Listen to the animal spirits. Nobody is an individual. We all help one another. Each of us must give up ourselves to the State. That is the only way...to the Great Society...
The drugs give them our minds. The words give them our souls. And what have we left?
And then...you don't CARE. If they take your mind and soul and body from you, you don't care. You don't care what kind of world this is. You don't care if you have no rights. You don't care if they took everything that was yours and killed your family and killed everything you had.
When they thought up their strategies and prophesies and analogies, you were what they imagined the whole collective mind of the world to be. They liked to think the human race was stupid. I'm so glad you're just one person.
(But what if they're all like you after all, and I'm alone? What if you outnumber me?)
You'd probably enjoy burning in hell. Just another something to amuse you. What have you done to be guilty for? You have no conscience.
Would you be content if everyone you supposedly care about died? You'd be fine with it all.
How can a person exist without a conscience and a soul? Are you some sort of alien?
You're a lie. Maybe you harbor some sort of evil within you that you hide from the world. But I just think you have nothing inside of you but apathy and dependence, and whenever someone tries to get under your thick, thick, shell, you lock the key and forget and be happy.
You said you'd like being mediocre. Average is good, you said. I hope you rot.
I know. I know you only say these sorts of things to get under my skin. You hate me. You'd like to menace me for the rest of your life because of your feeding jealousy. You like to see me upset. It makes you feel better about your pointless, miserable existence.
Leech! Parasite! Louse! Fucking leech, go to hell and BURN!
Damn these eyes, these thoughts. How could it have taken me these four long years? How much have I wasted for you? How much have you sucked away from me?
But don't cry. Don't be so sad. I've got you all figured out now.
I've got you all figured out.
Leech!
...
Suck me dry.
Is this what you wanted?
Is this what you had in mind?
Cuz this this is what you're getting.
I hope you choke.
Dead
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