Here for casual FWB/link ups
Reportedly well hung, "Mr. Hands" some friends call me
Industiral grotesque fallen angel. Below is my philosophy and personal dogma
I have drowned in every sermon, gagged on laws written in blood and hypocrisy. Society calls it “order,” but it’s a cage in gold trim. God? A dictator in absentia. Government? A machine grinding bone into policy.
And meaning? A lie for the desperate.
There is no grand design. Only the absurd joke of existence—punchline unknown. So I laugh. I scream. I defy.
I choose the grotesque. The unholy. The unnatural. If beauty is submission, then I’ll wear ugliness like armor. If purity is compliance, I’ll become filth incarnate. Let them fear me—I hope they do.
I am the virus in their system. The rust in their gears. I sabotage not from weakness, but from ownership. My pain is mine. My ruin is mine. Better to burn in my own fire than live cold in their chains.
They want me to kneel. To swallow peace in silence. But I was not made for peace. I was made to set fire to it.
I kiss the void with open eyes. I carve meaning from nothing and bleed it into the earth. No gods. No saviors. No rulers. Only me—
jagged, broken, and free.
If this world is their masterpiece,
then I was born to vandalize it.
