89 lines
4.8 KiB
Plaintext
89 lines
4.8 KiB
Plaintext
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'##::::'##:::'#####:::'########: VIVA LA REVOLUCION! CERDO DEL CAPITALISTA!!
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##:::: ##::'##.. ##:: ##.....:: ===========================================
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##:::: ##:'##:::: ##: ##::::::: THE HELOTS OF ECSTASY PRESS RELEASE #489 !!
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#########: ##:::: ##: ######::: ZIEGO VUANTAR SHALL BE MUCH VICTORIOUS! !!
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##.... ##: ##:::: ##: ##...:::: ===========================================
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##:::: ##:. ##:: ##:: ##::::::: "Head Full of Garbage" !!
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##:::: ##::. #####::: ########: by -> Mutter !!
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..:::::..::::.....::::........:: 2/10/99 !!
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!!========================================================================!!
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it's dark in here. where am i; oh yeah, i remember now. i'm
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sprawled out on my floor with my head in a trashcan; i can hear people in
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my room... maybe ten, possibly a hundred. i can hear what they're saying
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but don't understand. they're talking garbled laughter. poor trashcan.
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poor, sweet trashcan. when my head's in you i feel safe. why do you
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smell like vomit? oh yeah, cause i vomited... maybe twice, possibly a
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hundred times. my head's in a trashcan. my stomach's in hell. no.
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hell's much warmer. damn me. No, my stomach's in the sea. i can feel
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the waves. god almighty can't stop the waves. why do i do this to
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myself? CRASh. i suck.
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"Is Chris dead?"
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"Umm... we dunno"
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"Okay, well, see ya all later."
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Bastards. in my own room. in my own trashcan. not in my head,
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though. they'll never get that far. i just lied (that's how I got here).
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how long have i been here? five....ten...fifteen minutes. tomorrow
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they'll say for hours. they'll be right. i have to hide (in my own
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skin?). i shouldn't be seen. thank you, trashcan. someone's smacking
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the back of my head and yelling at me. someone else says to leave me
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alone and the smacking stops. why'd i buy black trash bags? everyone
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else has white. what a freak. (twelve miles away I see the happy joy frat
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boy who has a white bag) this bag is way too big for this
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trashcan.
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Broken clock
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Just because I don't hear it ticking doesn't mean that
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time has stopped
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I miss the innocence the peace of mind
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that piece of mind I can no longer find
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O dark valentine I've lost so much to your dark light I'm up to my knees
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in shattered pain to those last few minutes after midnight The less
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you have to do the less you'll get done O dark valentine will you be
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one More time You do this to me every time Not again.
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"Whoa. What's Chris doing?"
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"He's passed out."
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i try to say "No i'm not" but my lips won't move. finally, the
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words manifest themselves in the form of vomit. where the fuck's all
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this liquid coming from? I don't remember but the sea has an infinite
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amount of liquid (no, it doesn't... but who's counting?) the fools-gold-
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-chattering continues. i hear a burst of laughter and suddenly
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everything freezes. was i awake just now? this has to be a dream in my
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head. in my trashcan head.
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as a wise pimp once told me, 'when your head's in a trashcan
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there's no place to go but up up and away.' very true. very crude. the
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two are often the same. someone's pulling me out of my trashcan
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sanctuary. No. don't pull me from my warm trashcan. No. i want to
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live there. i know i can't but please don't pull me out. they do it
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anyway. it was inevitable. into the cold world. into the tic-toc slave
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rhythm. put me back in utero, fucker!
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"Here, drink this."
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oh, it's . . . umm, it's you. good old you. you were always a
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good friend. we had our disagreements... i might have cursed at you
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earlier tonight but you know i didn't mean it, right? thank you, you.
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you and my trashcan. that's all i need. we can take on the entire
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world together! they despise me. you should know that. but, united we'll
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have an ass big enough for all of them to kiss.
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Don't ya see? I've helped you when your head was dead and now you
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do the same for me. i drink the water. where'd all the people go? i
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stand up and get knocked on the ground by a wave. thanks for catching
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me, you. i know you have to go... have a good nightmorning! is it time
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to sleep yet? i catch a dizzy glimpse of my room. it looks like someone
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had a good time in here... oh yeah, it was me. who the fuck's going to
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clean this up? fucking pizza boxes and broken glass. ten million
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cigarettes and 42 cigars. youth of america, i weep for you. i mean me.
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trashcan, you'll help me, won't you?
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!!========================================================================!!
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!! (c) !LA HOE REVOLUCION PRESS! HOE #489, WRITTEN BY: MUTTER - 2/10/99 !!
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