April 28th, 2004

Mask

Holes

Women disgust me. They want their hands on your wallet, and are willing to do whatever filthy thing they must to get to it. They will touch you, fuck you, marry you, whatever it takes.

I like whores. At the very least, they’re honest.

Women are small, weak, and they make high loud noises that scatter my thoughts. People say they’re soft, as if that’s some kind of benefit. To me, they feel like foam, with vegetable oil smeared on top.





I thought my last girlfriend was best when she was sleeping. Then she got drunk and she passed out on the floor and I fucked her, and I thought she was best that way. Then she overdosed, needle still stuck in her thigh and she stopped breathing. I cut her, across her throat, a smile. That’s when I realized how she was best, a collection of holes.





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