dissidence

izn't it amazing that when a man standz up against hiz cuntry, he iz not only completely alone, but viewed az wrong, insane, and scary, when he seez the cuntry az being wrong, insane, and scary. the differencez between him and hiz cuntry are magnified, even exaggerated, fueled by the phire, the war between the people, and the man. the human animal should understand that there iz something wrong with it's environment. the human animal should understand that there iz something wrong with it's environment. everyone just needz to relax, pull the government syphon from their brain, and inhale a huge fresh dose of bill hicks. oh and by the way, how bullshyt of them to make me pheel deluzional for having written 4our albumz, and still haven't published them, oh, so, that meanz they aren't even written, they don't count? you'll deny my product before it's even released? you fascistnaziscumphukbastard!
god, what a bunch of moronz. lord, what foolz theze mortalz be.

(here'z something from 9-2-04) if only i could form a telepathik connection with my cat, then i could keep constant watch out my window for pigz. if only i could form a telepathik connection with my girlfriend, then she could understand the pain i'm in. but why am i so cut off, so kept inside, bottled up, disconnected, sleepless nights, dreaming awake, dreaming alone. 4:20am 9-2-04. i can't sleep becauze i'm in pain. but i can't smoke a bowl, cauze you heartless phuks want me to get dressed, and go hide outside behind a bush to smoke a bowl. i tried smoking just a cigarrette, it doezn't work, it doezn't help with the pain. when i would see the word 'reverend', i would get mixed pheelingz, a sense of conphuzion, disilluzionment, so i made up my own definition that discribed all thoze pheelingz of conphuzion and frustration. keep having a reoccurring dream of muzik store with huge tshirts and oversized slayer boxer shorts. had dream of fighting with mom over how to park her car in our trailertrash parking spot. get the phuk out of my head bitch, and hand over the phuking keyz, you trophy holding phuk. i can't sleep becauze i'm suffering from the worst constipation ever, and the best shyt you got for me iz colace, or metaphukinmucil? and you won't let me smoke pot, and it's the only thing that takes the pain away. your shyt iz worthless. and you want me to suffer. this pain coming out of me slowly and painfully, iz a slow, painful writing process, warning me that i'm about to go metaphukinmuzikal on your ass. this time around, it waz no fairy tale, this waz no girl, interrupted, you wanna know what i saw this time around? i'll tell you what i saw this time. i saw a bunch of soulless pussiez with no phire left. no ballz. if you don't stand up for who you are, you are shyt. if you don't tell thoze who persecute you to shove a shotgun down their throats and phuk off, you are nuthing. who the phuk are you to tell me what to do in a free cunt ry. you make in sanity just az illegal and demonized az marijuana. · þ h u k · y ø u · . suck shotgun metal and phuk off. let freedom ring with a shotgun blast, mutherphuker. grow some nuts and pry yourself a new 3yehole. trepan yourself the quick way. pussy. you want me to believe everything you say, and you can't say shyt worth anything, any meaning, cauze you chooze to live your life around mental cowardz, retarded pussiez, living blind and paranoid in a scary world where people want you to get dressed and hide to smoke pot, not only hiding every freedom you ever fought for, but hiding your very flesh, in silent protest against the lawz you're still fighting against. when are you gonna start this fight? when will you stand up and drop some nuts? when will you stick your fist in the air? what iz it that you want me to believe? what iz it that you want me to slave my heart away for? in this world of shyt? i'm about to get metamuzikal on all of you, and you can't even predict it. what a bunch of psychik amputeez. taken away from every footholding freedom you ever knew, just to behave, cauze you're too paranoid to stand up and speak for yourself, fight for yourself, start running towardz instead of from, full force, head on, against the storm of life, or you will get blown down, obliterated by 3volution. phuking coward. i want my coward song back, you gutless, nutless phuk. i want my rights back. i want my fight back. 6am, and still, no life, no muzik, no sleep. your addiction to paranoia makes you weak and worthless, and it pheedz on down the line, like blood thru veinz, your mother being the main artery. your halo iz slipping down, to choke you. loss of memory, loss of life, loss of innocence, forgive me father, for what i'm about to see, to pheel, to think. i don't want it, i just need it, to breathe, to pheel, to know i'm alive. i'll keep digging till i pheel something. shoulder deep within the borderline, relax, turn around and take my hand. there are timez when all the world'z asleep, the questionz run too deep, for such a simple man. won't you pleaze, pleaze, tell me what we've learned, i know it soundz absurd, but pleaze tell me who i am.