"Behind every system, behind every rule stands a corpse and laughs. You can't tell me who I should sleep with. I don't work for wages. My life is a revolution... My life is a beautiful life... What you call freedom, I call waste... I will continue to love my own voice. If everyone becomes me, everything will collapse."

Bruno K. Öijer

Wednesday, February 11, 2015

± S T I G M A T A ±



Selective memory of blue flashing lights. From down and between gravity to higher level. I am a dead bird wearer. Your window showed me greatest tragedy and euphoria one seen. You are an enigmatic cult. Every face and expression. Perhaps. This is someone who could beat the grave stones. Want to swallow my eternity with you. I seen how you rise.

This is not a game of alter – egos. Reality is breached. I focus on your breathing.  In circle motions. Not a 20 zone.  We flicker and burn out. Dive. Destroy.
 I AM A BRUTal CONJUNCTION.  
 Face to Face and Back to Back. Shoulder to Shoulder. Arm to Arm. Hunt ME. In visions tempered. By light and darkness. We march. I SOLUTE YOU.


DIVINITY
ETERNITY
COMBUSTION


BORN  - AGAIN

 With open arms. Slowly. Silently. Throne molester. Lilies and white sheets. Posses me. Decompressed information codes. Carry the spear. Within the tongue of your language. Smells of burned flesh. I caress your stigmata. Drums and awakening. Nails black thought red. Bruises and bite marks. Meeting every soul. Connect me.  My channel path in chosen. In the middle of earth wrecking promise. From down under. Watching. Calculated fingering.

I am a working mechanism. A word play. Billions of particles. Trillions of vibrations. Destroy me. Echoing steps. Shiver of temperatures. Collecting dept.  Poses me. The shadow reflections. A coil.  Serpent. Climbing walls. In tongues. Focus. Sharpened. Non exhaling entity.


I SEE YOU!

 Your smell touches my forehead. I am blessed! Open eyed and in transcendent translucent holocaust. Your touch?. Flawless. Climbing on a cross. Ruthless. Rull-LESS. 
In my postop scarification I am climbing toward the mountain heads. In crystal lanes through chalk deserts. Squirting holly water. Fitting bills of misogynistic: and,  including, in association with. Hitting rampage obstacles like a Tetris game put here to discourage. I smell pussy servant from afar. Feeling how sin as leather touches toes in warded towards your most wettest. 

2am is the game time. sophistication satisfaction meets understatement in conjunction of past precum. wearing cunt sings like a crown. 


I AM YOURS






Good night and God bless,
Queen of Disorder,
Sonia Dietrich 
BRUT 



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