Medulla Oblongata

You ever wonder why I'm always yelling at you? Or when I say things to you I sound like a bitch?

IT'S BECAUSE YOU DESERVE IT

Assfuckwit

If you would stop being a cock-gobbling-gutter-slut for FIIIIIVE fucking minutes and take the time to be a Human instead of being person I might have patience with you. I might reign myself in. But you cannot be Human can you? No, you have to be a person. This base animal that hardly knows how to arrange it's sentences. Ruled by your god damned medulla oblongata. Self gratifying leech upon societies face. And everyone is too busy being PC to do a fucking thing about it.

Yeah. Uh-uh!

You can suck me sideways if you think you don't deserve it. When you stop eating rocks and finally realize that the earth is indeed round - and not like a plate asshole - I will dane to have some sort of warmth within myself for you. Until then you can take a long walk off a short motherfucking pier.

I want you to meet the christmas critters.

I want you to meet the cenobytes.

I want you to meet a thousand nightmares.

Each of which is significantly more horrible than the last. And I want you to know that I know, that I'm watching, that I'm laughing. Because your stupidity has earned you that more than a thousand times over. And I do not care if I am the only one capable of saying this shit to you.

You're selling me out. What I cannot understand is why you do not notice how I sit, idly by. Innocent bystander not at all bothered by the goings on - as if an average customer in an average market. I notice everything about you. Every detail. I suppose it is a human thing.

You see me, but you are not watching.

You hear me, but you are not listening.

You talk, but you never speak to me.

I am tired of speaking to you. I feel like we are different species. I feel like it is universes between us instead of a scant amount of miles. The insanity is that I have met other Humans just as far, if not further, who's heartbeat I can hear in my ears even now. When I go this last time, and my back is turned to you. That will be the last thing you see of Me ever again in all your years. Oh, you will definitely see me around; but by then all you will have of Myself is memory.

And I'll have forgotten you.

What is sad is the fact that you have never known Me. But I have known You since we first met. And sure, I will take the blame for this. I have never been one to worry much about these happenings. The end is as common to me as breathing. I am more designed and much fitter to take that final crushing blow.