When the ink dries, we'll have another bastard's peace.

Thursday, August 31, 2006

the ascetic aesthetic: ni vu, ni connu

frail little frowny-stars, self-obsessed behind chocolate bars. curled, crumpled up inside. fetal position, nowhere to hide. your insecurities show through your figure. so afraid of getting bigger. face taped to the instruments of torture. these motherfuckers are making a fortune. the happy medium's not enough. extremes aren't as rough to embrace. look yourself in the face. the mirror's friendlier than the toilet. your life is not a race. don't let their money spoil it.

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