I’m bask in daily decadence and debauchery. I haven’t got psychological problems, despite that many folks think about it, but I invent some problems myself, because I enjoy it. I love to lie for the pleasure of cheating, for that matter I lie to you. I love the trash, the scurvy, the icky but I don’t bear the view of blood. I think that I hate myself, because I like to hit me, but finally not so much, I like me, and poppers.
It’s maybe what for I’m never neurasthenic, and also why I am a monster who don’t understand the pain of other people. Besides I don’t understand a lot of person and not many people understand me, a little bit like medicine and alcohol which not match together very well, or ketchup and fish. I love my electric guitar, and I make love with it, alcohol and grass make me fly in my head and make me fuck my subjective objects.
After thoses contradictions in me, which equilibrate themeselves in my head, I think I can affirm that I am a normal person. ##########
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je suis un autre moi atomique, et je veux détruire le monde.
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