i’m a monster

by plermpt

that fleeting nugget of “accomplishment” that comes with achieving your goals can never be enjoyed with encroaching stress-creep. for me, bliss is an apparition that i hallucinate when i drink my morning can of monster energy. this can is my temple, and i am elated by the physical euphoria that is achievable by drinking from the spray paint styled mega can, a symbol of heinous vigor.

because monster energy knows that i believe in the individual, it has crafted over forty unique flavors to accommodate humans as individuals before their souls are sent back to hell where they are absorbed into the Impenetrable Mass in a stoic ritual by the ageless sentinels.

dear monster energy,

consider me your brand whore. i am a willing sacrifice. i joyfully offer you my agency.

i want to drink you from an acetone can. i want to drink you from a transparent bleach bottle where fledgling disciples can see the shards of condensed taurine float in your liquid fiberglass. i want to pump myself with monster energy from a gas nozzle as i fuel my camo h3. i want to chew monster energy gum, and wear monster energy patches, and smoke monster energy cigarettes, and shoot monster energy heroin.

for now i am disguised as a normal human person wearing human clothes with a human purpose….but my purpose goes beyond the flesh. i am marked with the infernal ‘m’ so death’s militia can identify my corpse for proper public desecration. i am in the shadows behind the dumpster and i spit and i whisper ‘i really like satan’

the planet’s surface is sutured skin, and breathes through the towering steel beams that pierce it. from afar the towers resemble hair follicles wafting in a cosmic breeze as they emit frequencies to guide the lingering souls of deceased fourteen year olds. embedded in the skin of the planet are millions of blinking eyes. my father lives in a house molded from flesh, sitting on stilts above a lake of living mucus in an underground cavern. what laughter? he is also your father. the fathers are legion. a muscled red buttocks wags a serpentine tail. there are drums from a starless night. the beat of my gulps matches the heartbeat of the ancients….the individual is divine….monster energy….

a monster is not part of any human group. we are individuals. i cannot speak for these anonymous monsters. they have their flavors and i have mine. i do not associate with humans. i have lost my appetite for food. i do not thirst for water. i eat sand and drink monster energy. pissing is a waste of time. i could be drinking more monster energy.

i am not writing this from a desk in the marketing department at monster. i work for them but they do not know it. everyone is going to hell…hell is the only “group” that i lobby for.20150924_152539

my family, my savior, my muse, my life, my everything

my human skin is prickling and i am responsible for my own death. shinedown please record an album for my funeral. i am an addict of individuality. this is not a passing phase asshole. this is my politics and will be crammed down your throat in blatantly covert dogma. i turn conversations in the direction of the monster energy (2002): the drink to kick off the post 9/11’s NWO. RIP nu metal. fuck earthly achievement. a peaceful damnation is a sudden death that leaves sodden red lumps of permanent stain.

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