Used to be Azazel. But that was the old me, you get older, you grow. You gain new insight. You refine your beliefs.
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Sunday, June 27, 2010
THE ACCUMULATION OF MY FACADES
Panegyric reform of this maniac morphed into a resemblance, an imposter of who I wanted to be. Cuddling with the devil and dancing with vampires in a melody only he could hear in his head. I took sleep from him and sucked the life off his lips. Quickly becoming the fuse to the pressure under which he felt indebted to submit. Raving like a mad man, emotions made him tremor, sending him into a state of mind dehydration. Deprivation and deceit was all I offered, nonetheless, the dish was presentable, and often came on a platter placed in between my thighs
Suicidal and submissive, he fell to my feet as I dug my fangs deep in his temple, he begged for more….confused. Ostracized from his own life, he was now a slave to all the inflictions of Maxwell, Ayo, Gbenga and Acheve…he paid for Jason, Mo, and even cousin’s torture. I felt no remorse and I drilled a nail on his palm as though he was bearing the pain for their sins. The eerie ambiance that surrounded my satin sheets made his hairs pay closer attention, voluntarily submitting himself to sadism, slow and subtle death lurked.
Don’t worry about me, I had my cyanide in the forms of muscular six footers with penises that left imprints in dust. When I’m done, history will never come full cycle, spoken of for centuries to come, yet in that chapter marked “anonymous,” the biggest lesson will be embedded. Lines rippled across my forehead as his need began to surpass my desire to further inflict. Rhythmic vibrations sent chills down my spine, sadly…I only wanted solitude after the earth shaking, mind blowing performances as he held on as though his life source was in between my light source and wrapped tobacco. These creatures lust after snob, thirst for attention from the “could care less-es” and danced to the offbeat of the tempo-less. Applauding my ignorance and exalting my blunder, it is time for an exchange.
Deciding to proceed in this quest for a scapegoat count, I began to realize the exceptional resemblance…I had morphed into a resemblance, an imposter of Maxwell, who exhibited attitudes similar to that of Ayo, with a hint of Jason’s archaic sense of humor. I had quickly become a carelessly packaged simulation of sheer awkwardness, a collage of “in your face fuck-it-ness.” These actions only created and reproduced more dummy hearts, wickedness correlated. I had become Lucifer’s bride personified, Jezebel, Delilah and Hitler (if he has a vagina)…I had birthed cold heartedness and breathed it into the unknowns…I had conformed. Light rays submerge, darkness falls out of slumber, accompanied by my silhouette, I walked out of the shadows, into an army of imposters, zombie like and in sync, I realized…………….these faces looked familiar...these faces were me.
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2 comments:
if hitler has a vagina, best line there. Lol
DAMN!!! I know a lot of girls this could apply to, and some guys... This is beautiful
We often resemble what we hate.
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