May 2, 2009
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Hello. Now that I'm abducted.

This is my face,
Or how my figure was swallowed by flies.
Constructed in space,
The materials we recieve will us,
[Spiritually] to survive.

Below where we were instructed.

This is space,
Or how my fingers sank into my eyes.
Constructing my face,
The bacteria and disease kill us,
[Eventually] and we die.

Hiddeous and vulgar,
They carry on.
Or just our perceptions?

We do not question.
the tin foil futility to this,
Unless we've other thoughtful purpose,
We've succombed mental suggestion.

Desecrations and complications of the mind.

By means of blatant oppression.
Unless our machines bring about proggress,
Our uncovered brains continue in this,
Failure to question.


we are irresponsible,
Even to ourselves.
But we trust in something?
[Hideous and vulgar as they carry on]
we are nothing.
Never possible.

abduct yourself.

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