All that booze. All those infinite bottles of moderate poison. Beer and cigarettes. Drunken wonders whilst completely out of control. The Nanking Massacre whilst we cry over misplaced words. The places I should never have set foot in. The lovers I let down whilst too submerged with my own pointless grief. Writers block. Lifeless daydreams. Syrian atrocity as we settle for a game of Trivial Pursuit. Furniture stores as rape victims curl into balls. Offices upon offices as the homeless freeze to death like chickens in sterile laboratories. Bullied to suicide. Derided because of imperfection. Yet beauty is useless. It reeks of emptiness. Blowjobs and empty holes. Vanity as natural as horror. Do it because you can. Belittle the weak because no one says you can’t. Without watchful eyes, we turn into monsters. There’s a thin line between sanity and madness. All it takes is a single second for it to be crossed. Betrayed by witches, my curse leaves me dismayed. The IRA. The restless youths who have nothing of merit to claim as their own except for their own idiocy. They worship vines instead of talent. No one aches persistence, because hard work is just too much. The tragedy of our times is that we are willing to do nothing for the cause. Instant success is what we crave. Celebrity without the effort. To be alive without thought. It’s the sewer we lust for, even though we claim to seek the stars. Cancer our legacy. Extinction on our lips every second of every day. It tingles in our fingers. Makes us restless whilst we pretend to be normal. A virus one and all. Between heaven and hell whilst the world falters on the brink, we obsess over mirrors and the images we find within. Narcissism so lonely, we disappear. We cease to be real.