When mad at someone, see if you can match the writing skills and talent of this one. In place of a punching bag, people like me and this writer sometimes use pen and paper. Superbly written emotions!
People are orchids; cunts in disguise, and my tongue is already licking their splendid protruding lips like schnapps.
I’ve behaved like an orchid before – all puffed up and pouty, making holier-than-thou statements before those dreadful chinese lanterns have me boxed in, their crude hypnotic swagger acting like a prayer.
People are indeed orchids, complete with parasites and annoying bitey insects that sting and suck their way into our folds like thrips; mere bugs spreading their shit everywhere.
But who cares?
Give me Derris Dust any day, thrips have no feelings and orchids are such selfish sluts!
How dare they open their sub-waxy petals and assault my precious beliefs, forcing me to question my disease!
How dare they splay those wanton colours around willy nilly, when I really want to rub their ruddy faces in it!
After all, too much free love can only encourage lust, can’t it?
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