Our
existence is nothing but an ending where we are forever trapped
within the hell and hells of our being, all because god was and we
were it at the beginning. We even crave the pains of many things each
day as we walk towards them hungrily and desperately. We have not
left our origins and beginning in any way, because we are only that
ending and will be forevermore. Our creative abilities are nothing
more then sickly arrangements of gross substances upon each other
created by filthy monsters. And our stories by god are about
defeating others in craving and whimpering as we wander about the
society of battles drooling.
In
summary our lives are demonic and beastly, our reality is a place of
debauched hungering wanderings through voids of eternal but desired
torment.
This
blog, mine and not that of the truthsayers, is the right one because
it craves only the lie that we uphold behind the truth others think
they speak, while still standing. Our so called good selves are
beings of wasting away and removal of self and our darker selves are
too there, but unable to act. Further we will go onward unto other
hells helplessly because our cravings grow bored as we're dragged off
to the hell above!
Our
solutions, they are ways to shift our pain and blames to other
things, where this is all their is. We point fingers at the enemy and
make it less, but in doing so we suffer from its absence and we do it
on perpose!
Pain
is the root of all things we the creatures and rotten creatures below
us dwell in constantly, none the less we all have a taste for some of
it and our rotten and mummified urges remain in these tastes
disgusting to others. Their is is no problem that can't be solved,
but what would we do without problems, would we not wander as zombies
on the streets looking beggingly in idiocy for something to do?
Our
colors are all of filth and we are looking for the way, but their has
to be no way if we are forever seeking the way, yet by all means
successful do I crave this torment of my being, because as a creature
of my own self it is this that I am and I am a proud monster!
Our
lives carry no meaning, we the dogs like our pointless being in this
horrid place, rambling on as incoherent creatures deep in the filth
of being, which we like to call cities or decourts of decay. Our
cities are never perfect and always partially rotting in many
directions, forbidding any other being from ever entering the whole
of their filth into the hell they dwell in. Because only the lie can
be entered in full. This is the great promised land we crave. It
makes me drool.
God
is but a self destructive mindless entity made of component parts so
detached that they don't even recognize each other, this detachment
increases our suffering greatly, because we long for the other but
cannot stand the other and thus we live among a fine line of
lonelyness and friendship with other sides of the great being that is
hell.
As we
are known, we are the creatures lost in filth, who have yet to learn
more and will not find another home, until the day that we can go off
to create greater hell, because as beings of greater power over our
body, we actually do have options but their all terrible. We seek an
end that is of greater mourning even then this sorry state of being
and it is this that this image peeked at to show.
That
their is more hell below that we can venture on into!
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