A cycle , a Shakespearian play. Some sort of a wooden shelf for his highness to place his set of dolls. Concepts overflow. On that worn out brown, that worn out everything. A whole society, brain dead.

It is ok, it’s all ok . I was not born afar, born dead. My ribs don’t gradually stick to my back spine as I die slowly in my conquest for that drop of mercy water. It is ok I wasn’t thrown on the streets when I was four or three. I wasn’t forced to sell gum, something we learned not to see. It is, it is ok. It’s all okay, I’m happy and as long as I’m happy it’s because  of his highness. I should, should be thankful , bow down, be a dog a slave. OBEY! It’s all okay, I wasn’t raped by a priest. I wasn’t forced to be engaged when I was thirteen. It’s all okay. I wasn’t caged and veiled, fed up with careful deceit ; with much lies lies I learned to believe. It is all okay. I still can feel, it’s all okay. I still can see, can read.  I can memorize the lines my dad memorized before me. Those holy lines that were stuck pushed and shoved in my throat, down down, dig in me. It’s more than okay, okay doesn’t fully describe how I feel. It worked perfectly for me. I wasn’t born with a brain, and if I did it wasn’t for me. I didn’t have any sort of disbelieve, wasn’t stoned and burned and thrown to the beasts. I wasn’t hailed, my throat wasn’t cut ‘cause I’m not a he. I’m so happy I wasn’t used with four others like me, like a machine, to pop out generations with sperm and prophet’s obscene. I can’t be happier I didn’t bleed and bleed, his rings to the flesh to the teeth; my eyes the blue disease. While his beard ,long and perfect, sang some words of belief. I’m so fucking happy, I wasn’t killed in the name of some honor, of his book, on the history shelves of a killers relief. I’m so happy, I’ll die happily while killing with me others’ others and me and me and me.  I’m so happy I’ll be rewarded, santa will take extra care of me. I’m so happy I was born special and foreigners will never understand what I mean. I’m so happy I am right I am right I am right. I am so happy everything worked out for me. I am delighted with colors, over powers and submarines, a whole set of war gears, in the name of thee. I am so grateful, I fully understand what his highness wants from me. How smart of me, I understood exactly what he means.  I am so satisfied with his messenger’s tales of death, killing a sinful flesh, killing and the pride of a martyr’s bed. Or on a dirge of some miraculous comeback, oh the green.  I am so happy in kneeling in lines and smelling others feet; drinking some holy blood god bled for me. I am so happy I’m ready to scream, scream  for thee, beat myself, the pain, yours, blood might excite me. I am so happy I am not a freak, not a moron; oh how blind you are, blind blind to me. I’m so happy with my homophobic disease, I’m so happy the society is proud of me. So so happy, how selfish one can be not be. I’m so happy so fucking happy I’ll open my mouth and let god piss on me. So I can say thank you, oh so thank you. I’m happy oh so happy for the tinniest detail he imprinted in me . Oh thank you thank you thank you for me. Thank you ‘cause I’m happy, unlike the billion others you were supposed to see. Thank you oh I so want to thank you, your highness, for not starving me. Forget about the others, thank you for not drowning me ; for not withering life away with them, with those and these. Thank you for making me your favorite, oh how favorite you made me. Thank you your highness for being so fair so equal loving caring and real. Religions , wars, politics, political religious figures with their prophets feeding on the flesh of the poor while the media entertains the beasts. Poverty oh poverty my god doesn’t see. Oh babies, those babies, filled with smell of death , a smell that doesn’t make my god sneeze. 


October 19 2011  5:30pm


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