11191 visits since 03/07/01 -=Mail/MSN=- sprained_soul@hotmail.com -=Featured Link=- Listening to 11.975hz - The official webcomic of #a!. 09/30/06 Cocktail Time Kill. 12/11/03 Conveyerbelt dreamscape. 09/24/03 Studded leather Envy. 06/26/03 Your very own anything. 02/11/03 I am part Hamlet, part eunuch. 11/17/02 I liked you better when I didn't know you. 10/13/02 No one likes you and you're going to lose. 09/13/02 I'd sell my soul for a Klondike Bar. 09/12/02 From lonely to only. 06/14/02 Spoonfulls of sidewalk wisdom. 05/11/02 Spontaneous human combustion on a bus. 03/24/02 We are all there is now. 03/18/02 Know what I'm talking about? 03/11/02 I wonder what it's like to be dead. 03/07/02 Lights off, Insanity on.			I'd sell my soul for a Klondike Bar     I pulled the match against the side of the box, it's head nipping and dragging and finally exploding into flame. I held it up to the cigarette, I heard footsteps, I inhaled, dropped the match and then I shot them all. I wiped their blood off my face, I put out my cigarette, grabbed a cinna bun and coffee off the now empty snack cart, lit up another cigarette and then waited for the my buddies to come. I told them. You see, people don't have any substance anymore, they're automatons. I know you've felt the exact same thing before, you've ordered something at Mcdonald's and had to repeat your order three times to the bone machine behind the desk, it's like you're explaining astrophysics-physics to them. You wanted to shoot them didn't you? You wanted them and their kind to just go away. This isn't the kind of ignorance that can be equated to wanting every single black person to go away or even putting retarded folks in a short bus outfitted with rockets and aiming it at the sun - it's not even close, what I did was kind and loving genocide. You can be criminally insane, you can be a menace to society, you can be the kind of person that gets declined for a credit card or the kind of person who gets shunned away from a gated community. You support the death penalty, or at least you would if someone killed your child, you'd be out for blood, you'd want to smell their skin burning, you'd be a psychopath. Of all these things you can be, why is it so had for you to imagine you could be criminally apathetic? Why is it so hard for you to chew and digest the mere idea that you subjectiveness might be criminal? A criminally irresponsible consumerist. They were all those things, so are you, so was I. Yes dear officer, your wife and kid may have been in the crowd but you probably don't even know what they were there for and to me, they were nothing more than screaming mouths to feed. They were side effects to capitalism and democracy, a Frankenstein of perverted dreams, malfunctioning light switches done up in the fall's latest fashions. Why lament the loss of people who hate themselves so much? Why mourn the deaths of people who, if you were burning to death in the middle of a parking lot, would put you out with gasoline? Don't you dare say it's worth fighting for, don't say that it's not your problem because you didn't fuck it up, don't you give me that shit about you just trying to carve out a living and don't say you're trying to make a difference. Officer, do you not know that what you're doing makes no difference? You may not be guilty of apathy, you may not be guilty of willful subjection but you are guilty of dishonesty, of being foolish, of running in circles for a carrot that doesn't exist. I know you've searched a black man for being black, I know you've judged those without walking in their shoes and I know you can't sleep at night because sometimes it's just easier to shoot that guy in the face than to help him. So now you see where I'm coming from officer? You can save yourself from apathy by doing this madness, by cleansing, by burning and slashing, by saving them from what everyone else has planned for them, by taking them out before they take you out. You try to help these people and they call you a pig to your face but they can't find anyone to help them at 4am when they've heard a 'suspicious noise'. You've lived in those coffins, those cheap one room apartments on the bad side of town, cramped and suffocating, dirty, loud and rough. Don't tell me you didn't want to go up there and blow their heads off. Those people above you who couldn't quite understand how to walk instead of stomp, who sounded like they were dropping bags of sand on the floor all day, had their music up full until 2am, those who couldn't quite understand the concept of 'Co-habitational environment'. The rage you felt wasn't those people, it was those people in that situation, it wasn't a personal reaction, it was a societal reaction, instinctual rage in all it's glory. If you've felt that, then you must be able to understand where I'm coming from officer. We're all cramped in the world and I guess some of us are trying to make it better in our own little way. Mine used to be your way, work all day for them, cleaning up their shit, watching over their children and scraping their brains off the pavement. Now I'm just putting the brains on the pavement, I'm only watching over myself, I'm only trying to clean this place up and rid it of those who seek to destroy everyone for profit. I'm only the reaction to society you wish you could be. I've slaughtered them all to protect them and I didn't lie to them while I did it. Bullets and blood don't lie and have a real purpose - the fix that which appears unfixable. Now officer, are you ready to co-operate? They dragged me out to the car, they were going to hang me in the middle of the street this time. I had always heard they didn't fuck around in Alabama and I guess whoever said that was right and, of course, probably dead. The officer left his gun holster unbuckled, I grabbed it, shot him, got out of my cuffs and killed every last person in the police station, even the wonderful whores in the lockup. I cut off the officer's head and brought him with me - I had a message to deliver, I had to testify, I had commandments to hand down to the unenlightened. The officer and I went on a spree that ended 2 months, 1200 miles and 423 confirmed kills later. I think we did alright. We served, we protected, we did our jobs.