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 Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god

Bless this mess before I kill myself!

I have been there myself, and it is terrible.
Nothing makes sense, everything is growing
Something, like rot. I became disoriented easily,
And my growing mind ceased to grow any further.
All I had to try to keep me sane was the mere thought
That when all of this was said and done, I would be paid
And then I could continue my sad life, telling the anecdote
Of how I had to clean a house that hadn't been cleaned since
The first day my sister had moved into it. Oh, the things I have
Seen my friends, the things I have seen, it could move you to tears.

November 20, 2003

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