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Because suddenly your veins are boiling to the point you think you’re about to vaporize in the ignorant laughter of the crowds
And the roar of the crowds rise like a tide of fire, raining on your skin, burning holes through superficiality

Because it’s like your brain is reaching plasticity limit and it’s going to burst, so the blood becomes fireworks under your eyelids and rain down in your body, trailing like streaks of murder down your spine, your spine which is like a snake, when you curl up it’s a starving snake about to pounce, your green eyes resemble that class pet snake we used to have in the corner of the lab room, until someone accidentally left it in a cupboard and forgot about it---when we found it three months later it was an entwine of jade-colored nothingness, two starving jems of green eyes, looking never so vicious- as if the energy of the entire body had transcended into that stare- like it knew nothing but warm blood, juice, sweet flesh disintegrating between ravenous teeth, for too long has his teeth chewed at the thought of emptiness, until the insanity of hunger suggested self-cannibalism- and he did, eating himself tearing himself open;
Until nothing works but hunger, and hunger becomes the monster, and it demands for more, every inch of your existence is on fire for a bite of something you don’t care if the whole world dies, because hunger is tearing you open.

You’re also tearing yourself open

I don’t care if this is the grossest thing you’ve ever read, because I want it to be the ugliest most repulsive thing in the world.
Because I want you to hate me. Because most of the world already does. Ignorance is hatred, hatred is ignorance.
The stone path I walk home in- turn up the tiles and you’ll see traces of the new york skyline-
When I actually go there I only see angry tourists and rip-off souvenirs; turn them upside down and you’ll see Made in China
And suddenly I’m back in China again, where an old man in white pajamas walks around in the afternoon holding a cage with a green parrot in it
And one day he’s walking around with an empty cage
And I wonder if he could still hear the parrot’s voice in his mind
But I am afraid to ask.



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