Where to now?

Having sex with all the people you would imagine that you would notice if they passed you in the street.

Having founded families with them and gotten along with their parents, grandparents, children and grandchildren and in turn founded families with and sodomized them and you're finally content and bored with it after lifetimes of shifting between loving it, hating it, and being indifferent to it and bored with it.

Having finally come to an irrefutable proof that love is not enough and you're finally content and bored with this conclusion after lifetimes of shifting between loving it, hating it, and being indifferent to it and bored with it.

There's nobody there to save you. And you're bored.

Say you love it.

The pregnant virgin has had an abortion.
The prophet of lies has gone underground.
Hold your breath now, children!
You tears will grow like cancer.
What shatters your eardrums is not sound.

The clocks have stopped ticking.
What can be inhaled can also be eaten.
The dirt of a thousand funerals under our nails.

The blood floods the earth.
The clouds are getting blacker.
I drink to the lord of destruction.
I party with demons and ghouls.

Those fat sloppy hearts,
still whining their memories are too sad.
You say this is not the darkness you paid for.
Then show me that fucking receipt!