My mind was a circuit between his and the unknown. It painted floors so we could walk in our dreams and not fall into reality. Reality has become that form of debauchery of the highest forces, meant to destroy all that seemed to be creative in me. I used to believe that the highest forces don't know about self-defilement. I was wrong. They do get laid with their own power sometimes. And I don't talk about Jesus here. Jesus is way beyond everything.
Reality has depleted me for all these years, trying to convince me that its way is the righteous way. It had a powerful argument against any desire of withdrawal from its temple (disgusting and addictive): people. People are rancid by nature; their bodies start to stink effortlessly and so does their mind. Their mind casually begins to rot in a carcass of inactivity whilst in a world not dominated by a wicked so-called "morality", nothing ever fades, rots or seems redundant. I do not take orders from a society that has been trying to dispel me of my innerself or of anything that ever made me who I am as I do not feel obliged to respect any code of conduct that has only been imposing the most hypocritical set of rules that one could imagine.
I haven't been writing in euphemisms lately. Maybe it's because I didn't give a damn lately. You might say that I live in this society, thus I must abide by the rules. I say, I might live in this society, but that doesn't mean I live in it. Just because I live here instead of being in a secluded forest miles away from "humanity" doesn't mean that my set of rules matches yours (and by yours I speak generically).
In simpler terms: I do not bow to an unwritten law that says that being a prostitute is degrading, for example, but being the slut of some rich guy and flashing your tits on every reflective surface is admirable (this is merely an example).