8|50|60|5

11.4.98 – The twisted nature of hope

Four days and I will be gone, broken free from this cesspool of human waste and demonic fields. New York has always been a dream unrealized. Now it rises up before me. I have only one place to go, with one friend. Many swarm, however their twisted tongues reveal ill intention. 

For the material, I can always do websites or code, if I can get my hands on a machine that is. My beloved Frankenstein machine was one of the casualties along with my gun. Perhaps the guys at 2600 can help me out. They are mostly unix geeks though. Still, aren’t I?

Some shop might take me as an artist or piercer. It is not hard to get when you know how to do it. That is what the fat, sickly men taught me. 

For the spirit, I am going to have to hide myself in the clothing of man, they must mistake this visage. I can’t have any leakage. I am forced to mask myself in friendly walls, for people to write on. My face has to be covered in a blank mask for their self fulfilling delight. 

I move to the city of greed, where mammon is the only god. I go in the right direction. I will not fall into the void that is forming just over my head. I will push it away and scream victory.

I can not procrastinate anything. this is not the time for repose, I will rest later. I have no choice, it is the will to survive this torment. I only have one fear, that of a self questioning; do I know what I am doing? New York is much harder than New Orleans. But, at least the angels and demons are busy there.

Funny how I put myself in the season of life and death. It will be cold there. How to do is to do, there is no trying, no failure. 

I have to survive at all costs…

My past is gone, no one remains. I have to hide behind a new visage. I have to obscure all that has happened in rosy walls of pretty pictures. A wall, a blank friendly wall, will keep out the cold. There is no moment but now and in that moment, I make all my dreams come true and escape this nightmare.

11.10.98

I was on my way, slated to float away on mechanical wings. They came again, this time in force, like I was a crab in a basket. They sidetracked me and now all the promises are broken for good. My blood dripping inside, my heart is gray and torn. I have no options my emotions are wasted. I face this stupid, nothing, life I live and cringe over and over.  It is never changing, transforming hell into hell, that is all it is. A slow funeral march into death, a long slow mortem. I have nothing but tattoos, that keep me with nothing. Every last item I owned was lost in the fight. They surrounded me with guns and forced me to unclothe. They stole everything and laughed.

Now, I have enemies that I never wronged. Why? What have I done? I should have left here years ago. My lack of foresight is painfully evident. This is total bullshit!

2701

I am a stranger wandering your world, looking for a way home.

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