she was witched, everything was looking great. Screams, helper=skelter down the stairs, tear my hair…rip up any I Hate Myself and Want to Die, Kurt Cobain the `poster Boy, is always spiralling down the stairs. Abandon mascara, never use kohl, straighten hair, Hell straightens hair,
its all looking good.
Screeching, not screaming.
Tell a joke.
Love and Hope;
magical. everything was fine.
Don't want white, don't want flair.
Want my own clothes.
not flares. you didn't know. Flares are 2007-10.
Fascist is IN.
Bright colours are fairy.
Don't want them. No thanks.
Crying, weeping. Will not save. All your prayers (Temple of Love, Sisters of Mercy)
In souls, angels weep. Kurt is dead.
I am dead.
"There you go!"
That b***** reminded me of the Angel of Hope.
A High Security ward; A classroom. One old Viking King, long red and gold beard, fast cigarettes, at the window.
"We have died, and this is All Heaven. Save US!"
I said to the King;
"You must have wonders, you must see. Heaven has sheltered us. We are Free."
I spin form the window to the cackling women, everyone is smoking. What an odd heave, white doors are all locked. But:
"We are all dead. !!"
All my hope was resting on freedom. I wrote her a farewell, or a an escape note;
"There you go Mannie!!" pen on the whiteboard next to a unicorn.
I had a paradise, the african women that sat outside my door, had a special perfume. A smell of Africa. Like some tiny princess.
They gave me an ecstasy pill. I awake in the sunshine the glorious sunshine.
My nose ring had slipped out and spread up my nose into my brain in the night.
Now I could pick up radio-signals.
They didn't care that i had cheap metal stuck inside my nose-brain.
The amount of the sunshine, equalled the amount of joy, there wasn't a garden, there was a walled small lawn surrounded by windows. Still, the sunshine. The Glorious High.
My little brother.
He would walk from one end of corridor, just to the stop-line of the girl's section.
"My little muslim brother! I am muslim!!! How are you!! my little brother!!"
They wanted to kill me in the smoking room, still i let them kill.
The smoke God turned blue. Wonder of spiralling magical blue smoke.
If she screamed Im happy. But;
"never die, never die, I am here."
I found the African perfume, in her new house. It was situated in the corridor.
Something in this is soul. I am God. I have become a higher Angel. God is Wise.
This vegetable soup; It has contained everything, it shows. If I spin this spoon, everything is destroyed. He says: everything.
Particles are soup. I have contain many years. There is in this soup, §1000
Sang a lot. Lift spoon,
do not stir.
Important not to stir, or move, or stare.
If we exact the soup, everything will die. Now that God is down here, we begin to die.
"WE must See."
I can't eat the soup. I can't move.
"I suspect he knows."
A higher amount of time, stirred in the bowl, the water was weak. The particles were tiny, and coloured like weak. I couldn't eat.
"What are you telling me?"
Something in the walls, collapsed. There was a darkness fitting movement. There was soup. There was only Soup.
I created a softer.
People were publicly speaking. There were walls. A bowl of light. Water sucking all parts of itself. I couldn't move. Breath covered a hate. Staring at a table. No spoon in hand, staring into bowl.
"Wait." Wait, because there is so much in this.
Little orange in water. Little soft bits. Going to disintegrate.
I waited for God. He brought the bowl full of universe. I had an action-part in this.
The walls flew into grey bricks, fell away, the table spinned, the dark of soul crept back…Soup….The Universe destroyed itself and fled into the soup, it hid in water. There was all and only Magic. Only God.
Something in Time flew away, days were unaccounted. Everything fell away.
I slept into the soup, i hit head down and into water.
All gone. NO people. NO outside.
The End of Time.
"I have no memory of anything actually happening after that. I don't know where i went."