This is your life and it's ending one minute at a time.

The things you own end up owning you.


Fuck off with your sofa units and strine green stripe patterns, I say never be complete, I say stop being perfect, I say let... lets evolve, let the chips fall where they may.

You are not your job. You are not the contents of your wallet. You are not your fuckin' khakis. You are the all singing all dancing crap of the world

Only after disaster can we be resurrected.

I am Jack's smirking revenge.

Self improvement is masturbation. Now self destruction..

I had it all. Even the glass dishes with tiny bubbles and imperfections, proof they were crafted by the honest, simple, hard-working indigenous peoples of... wherever.

I am Jill's Nipple.

This is Bob. Bob has bitch tits.