Thursday 30 November 2017

Coldest story ever told.

He stood there started to write a story of the sorrow and despair. He was mumbling words... you wouldn’t hear. He looked shaky and dangerous. His moves were unpredictable and scary. He was capable of everything. And anything. Then he wrote his first words..

“My dear;

Remember karma? I have nothing to do with you. Hot + cold - high + low.

Just knock it out. I despise you. I loathe your choices. You have a tin heart and brain, I have my iron lungs... till the day I die.

Would you find a greater source to give you a limitless power of fucking things up. Maybe you already did. I have nothing to do with you.

Let me share my own fucking lyrics for a song I’ve never published before... for situations like this —-—

— Monster —

You call me monster, 

Yeah you blame me about that

But you don’t have any fucking idea 

Why am I like this

I saw you two times yesterday

You were betraying me in a cruel way

You gotta ask yourself

Just fucking ask yourself

Why I wanna cut your throat

I wanna chop you into pieces

I wanna bury you with those filthy rats

I’m a monster, you call me monster


So before I go Jack the Ripper on your ass. Just get the fuck away from me. I have nothing to do with you. You asked for war, let me get my helmet and it’s on. Bitch.


Your Dearly Beloved “

And then after a long silence and horrendous blank eyes he whispered... “you are dead to me” and then... nothing.