it exists, an absolute more final than death.
azathoth blinks and you are condemned to an eternal state of being.
your reality deconstructed to an infinite degree, until nothing is left but the ability to hurt.
the sine wave equivalent of existence, all that remains is the
roaring tone of the strings you used to possess. if you had a mouth it would be screaming.
if you had ears they would bleed. but such is the blessing of mortality.
so why fight it?


the time has come to forget your love
it's all gone
the time has come to forget you were ever here
repaint the wall

where you wrote "joe was here" in some half hearted attempt
to make something you do matter
and to try and make you feel like
having left your mark is reason enough to leave


the clock is nearing that time of night or day
it doesn't really matter when you look at it that way, now does it

oh your misguided dreams of how other people feel
they never really mattered, and never really healed
the point was to adapt but all your sharp edges have dulled



but ill to fix you the best that i can
and we'll try to fix you the best that we can



the clock is nearing that time again when i'd
love to help but you wouldn't really try


and i know your brain won't let you
but my brains angry that your brain wants to die

and now i'm crying cause i'm scared i'll wake up
and you'll have vanished yeah you'll have disappeared

but i know you're always fighting
but now you're tired and now you've disappeared


but i tried to fix you the best that i could
and we tried to fix you the best that we could

1. something’s coming.

2. it’s out to get me

3. should i hide?

4. you don’t give a fuck

5. we’re all gonna die

6. it’s a thrill when it ticks

7.

8.

9.

10.

slit wrist misfit

slayer, swaying back and forth through the time lapse.
his eyes are six inches behind where they should be.
six feet deep in his mind and in time, in his black flag t-shirt.
fuck you, frenzy, pardon your obscenity.
eat his fucking corpse when he’s dead.
gorge yourself until you’re good and sick, little vulture.



i get tired when you text my phone
not because i don't wanna talk to you

it's because i know there's nothing i can do
to make you feel the way i want you to


so bring me down, down,
down with you


and when presented with a golden opportunity
i pussy out, well then fuck you too.

and when you ask me reply with “i don't know”
not cause it's true, cause it's the easiest answer

i’ll bring you down, down,
down with me


you don’t want life
don’t want to die
too scared to try

we have combined
our unconscious minds
it’s not alright

you witness me
falling to my
demise

soon you
follow suit
ooo