Compulsion, just a compulsion, nothing more than a compulsion!

Self Destruction

I looked in the mirror and felt hate for what I saw: The same shit that had carved scars in my arms as a teenager; The same shit that took amphetamine, up my nose and in my veins,  to forget the ugliness that I saw in myself every day in my twenties; The same shit that drove me to drink that alcoholic toxic waste from Crapsville supermarket and bottled syrup Sherry from the noon till morn shop: to the shakes, to the vomit, and back to the shakes again in my thirties; The same shit that drives me in front of a Word document empty as a clean slate with a promise of corruption in my forties. Compulsion, just a compulsion, nothing more than a compulsion!



Nothing comes here. Nothing comes here. Same shit. Nothing to write same shit different year. Fuck it; fuck it; fuck off. Nothing here just a silent scream and hateful heart full of dead stars that rocket through a godless universe – where a disappointing demise is always the result. Jerk circles too many exist in the work and the slavery we call career. The paper trail that leads up their addled brains, only useful to the cokeheads in Parliament who make cuts so they can afford more coke, cars and prostitutes. But still we follow the leaders who cannot lead themselves out of scandal – why the fuck do we do that? Compulsion, just a compulsion, nothing more than a compulsion!


And here I stand alone as always more angry and confused another conforming battery reared idiot. Awareness is cheap another promotion to gobble up in fantasy land of criminal excess. There’s no price too high and no price to pay with credit and hire at my disposal except the toxins and radioactivity that are riding the winds that will give us all cancer sooner or later. There is no time to enjoy the fruits of capitalism when the worm is carcinogenic. That’s what we get as first prize. Yet still we breathe the poisoned air, drive the car to burn the world up, still we fight wars and produce energy from a catastrophic desire to burn the world to a cinder. Compulsion, just a compulsion, nothing more than a compulsion!


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