Gory images, perfect blemishes, the ending of my genesis, the decadence of a casket for a perfectionist, I ensure that none are insured from the words that i conjure from the dead and injured…….sooooo whats the purpose? My alertness doesn’t mean I am not allergic to the bullshit, everywhere I turn there’s bullshit that makes me sick, so while I exorcise these demonic excrements, I will piss over all my impediments, hail my feces, descendants from kings now just a fragile species that are composed of factions of mixed-fractions so whats the whole story? If time goes on, how can there be an end. And if there is no end then their is no whole. It just stays there until time reminds and our mind rewinds to when we sold our souls…A perfect world the world owes.