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Voices From a Shock-artist to a Millennial

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My mother once said to me, “The Penis inserts into the vagina and this is how we makes baby’s.”
I scowled and said to her, “Fuck that, mother, I’m gonna go screw that boy over there, have a nice day, while I burn in hell, hope you come to visit our children soon, because a redhead and a black man make beautiful kids too.” In the end she was a dyke as well.

In the future there is no such thing as gender, sexuality, race, religion, ethnicity, age or mumbo gumbo because I ended up fucking every boy I met.

The other day, I was listening to Ssion and a few songs passed by and I heard him say, “I wanna be your brother, I wanna give you head.” My pussy quivered, you know that feeling when your cunt claps together in the cold.

I don’t want to be gay, I don’t fucking want anything anymore and fuck dic fuck dat, fuck everything where it should be at. Is this smutty enough yet? I’m not here to write poetry about love and shit, because poetry is dead. Love is dead and your dead too.

This White canvass were writing on isn’t even white, it color-less. Its what you make it, that’s what it is, and I say its Queer Men Fucking their brains out. I’ve never seen so much painted love and its all because I’m making it.
You know Hitler did the same thing, he made something, he made IT what it is, and the fact that people disregard the holocaust is disgusting. To the Jews who can’t talk about it, your making IT what it is, you know just like people who stigmatize HIV, your making IT what it is, and your disgusting. Fight the Stigma, fight the pain. Oh and what am I doing? I’m making IT what it is, you know a statement maker, voice impressioned art, none of that mumbo gumbo shit like

I walked the streets
I saw a flower
Hark what a skylark
Imagist Shit
I’m in love
You’re so beautiful
The worlds so beautiful
Skylark, skylark, skylark.
Fuck you prosody.

That shit is not statement making anymore. It’s old, out in the dumps, out of reach, beyond our
revolutionized minds. Beyond ourselves and that’s what makes it rightfully beautiful, trying to recreate that world doesn’t make us think, we just wallow in self-pain and self-regret.

Your not a statement maker, and I’m gonna make you think so hard until you pass out in a acid attack. You’re my muse, the reader, your what really inspires me. Your actions take you on canyon rides that curve out future grey matter and that’s what it is. So what is IT?

I can’t answer that; a mystery isn’t a mystery without a little queer silliness. Because I’m a silly little queer, that’s what my classmate told me once. I’m also a faggot, buttmuncher, sissy and every other derogatory word they use against women. I’m going to force you to think, because I’m here to make you think, I wasn’t born out of the will of god. I made my own destiny. My heart’s been split in two so many times and replied together with scissors, staples and glue. It still pumps, probably better then it did before.

I’m so angry all the time and I don’t know how to communicate sometimes, so I slip out the iPhone, mac and pencil and write everything down, because the only voice I ever had was stolen from myself at the age of 5. And all that keeps happening in this revolving pain, is that I suck dick and it makes me feel better.

This revolving pain is killing me, killing me from the inside out and I keep wallowing, wallowing in all this snot and blood. It’s like, it’s like, like should be a word killed off, right? Sometimes it sneaks back into my silly little queer mind, and don’t you dare forget that a class mate called me a silly little queer which really he said silly goose, which really means faggot, which really means spew, which really means hate and I will allow you to think what you want, but faggots are good, faggots are great, just like that children’s prayer.

As a faggot, I’ve stuck my hand deep inside me and placed my voice in various places, so that man cannot find it again.

I hid in my room today, because I heard new words, they yelled them at boys and girls across the rooms, like nigger. What is a nigger? I don’t know. I think I fucked one the other day. Oh and someone said this little girl was a kike and should have been killed off like the country Israel. I’m not intelligent enough to know what these words are, but why not use them?

Today I called a boy a kike-nigger today and got punched in the nose.

Today I was called a kike-nigger-faggot and could not stand it anymore, so I grabbed a dictionary in the library and jerked off to all these words and slangs. Words made me cum loads of history and that’s my biggest turn on. History.
Are you inspired yet, because you inspired me. Every moment you move, touch, talk, smell the roses, Cliché, oh well,
and fuck without a condom, you make love, that is if you want to make love.

I don’t think your writing enough on this page, because you’re too scared to have a voice. I don’t think your writing enough on this page, because you’re too uncomfortable acknowledging your own discomforts. It’s so unconscious and beyond your combined heart and mind, that you read it too fast, because your scared to hear what we have to say.
My double-D’s prefer to have whipped cream spread on them, not whipped and if you keep calling me a faggot, then you’re a faggot too.

There is no hero, or anti-hero in this story, just a villain looking for a good time.

Back in the 1960’s, if you saw a picture of a black man going into white girls, you’d scream abomination! Back at the turn of the century, we used to treat hysterical women with devices like Dildos. In fact those devices are what inspired bunny themed dildos by rich cows like Hugh Hefner. But what he does have is a voice.

Did you know that Philadelphia used to be the nation’s capital? Now we’re deemed filthadelphia, I wonder why? It’s probably because faggots like me are living here and we are definitely filthy. I like filthy though, I can deal.

Google “Pain Olympics”
Google “Two Girls, One Cup”
That’s inspirational art.

Sharon Needles is my favorite drag queen, because she’s not afraid to have a voice, I would say the same about Cher, Rupaul, Hillary Clinton, but all of you, your too scared to make a statement to the presses.

I want you to reach inside of yourselves right now. Stick two fingers down your throat, like a bulimic would do, and slowly twang at your vocal chords, and then slowly hollow out a space between your brain and heart and tug at them together. There has to be a balance to this so that you don’t vomit up your words.

Today while sitting on the cottage toilet, I man tapped a morse code with his leather foot upon the steel-lined ground. At first I didn’t know what to do, until he reached his hand underneath the wall. I knew what he wanted, but did he deserve it? I don’t know muses, but you should know what comes next, and if you don’t know what happens in cottages filled with testosterone crazed men, then your absolutely dumb, even dumber then the IQ score you got weeks ago.

I chopped my dick off today, and screamed “Fuck you world, fuck everything you’ve made, fuck you world, fuck you gender, fuck you world, Fuck you identity.”

If I walked into a church like Pussy-Riot, I would have added one more element to the riot, I would have sucked off 12 of the pastor’s dicks and made love to all the nuns present.

Is this shocking enough?
are you thinking, are you writing, are you fuming, are you pissed off, are you ready to scream, are you ready to throw away this paper and tear it away from the book page, no because your still a puny little voiceless kid, a puny little voiceless bitch.

Shock Art
Shock Art
Shock Art made the world go round
Artistic Riot, Fight Riot,
Protest Riot, scum. And your still a little puny voiceless , very voiceless faggot.
The biggest faggot there ever was, and you just let me degrade you till the end, like its nothing and that is the current human condition, you’re all voiceless and you will die a voiceless life.

And if you scream, your one of the few, the last of our kind, and if you scream, then scream real loud,
You just might be the last breathing mammal to roam this heaven and hell that we call earth.

©2013 Memoirs of a Millennial Faggot Colletion



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