item #7592

So ... who am I? Well, ok, I am a breeder of orientations amongst the undeserving. (As above so below.) I have objects in my possession which animalise my few chosen freedoms, with thoughts of horse-sense, dog-eat-dog and pig ignorance. LOL ... And feelings? Fuck 'em! Fuck 'em all! I'm sick of smiling. Sick of smiling through my teeth. I want to hit the ground. I live for a time when my dignity wills those irrelevances into some sign of inhumanity. Here's the thing, so listen ... I AM A MEMORY. Value cannot influence me in that. I may be impassive, and that will no doubt wear off in the cold light of day. But, nevertheless, I want to be compelled to fear the consequences of my resistance by some donkey-dick mofo. If you have read this far, let's be clear ... I'm not seeking absolution, or knowledge of your laboured superiority. I am not looking for someone who negotiates. My circumstances are different - and I want them to be. If necessity forces me to pity you, I will never leave.