Leaping Softly

I can be so pissed off that I can scream like a bra put on backwards. Evil exists, even though politically correct no-minds say otherwise. I know it exists. I feel it slithering around me like a sea shell broken into fragments of something remembered. We seem to share a ****ed up world of underwear wearing parrots bleating like retards at the channel surfing drones forever feeding their fat faces. I stand at exactly the same place where I was previously lost, and still am not able to identify the heart-burn that hops like a frog inside my concious being. Days begin. Days end. I continue screaming in the vain hope that somewhere some ear