[dull boy]

I might become a serial killer. Rap's rotted my brain, and I let it. Phil Hartman was right. CB4 ruined American culture. I'm a terrorist. A thief. Narrative over. My parenting's horrible. What's normal? My mind's in the woods, somewhere in the 1800's. I'm Daniel Plainview. Finished. Can't release the ego. Spit in the face of my deaf child. Bastard from a basket. Bastard from a basket. He can't hear me. I say it anyhow. Pull ya' titties out. Look, I rhymed, so this can stay in the open mic section. Nullified weddings with all of my ex's. I call 'em upset, just balling, then come to my senses and stop so abruptly. It's probably why they don't love me. Ugly. Inside and out. My insides were beautiful and I let my appearance go. Who's gonna tell me to brush my teeth if my parents won't? Heroin>braces. Wendy, I'm not gonna hurt ya'. The pain won't set in 'til long after your murder. The nature of nurture. In the Matrix's servers trying to aim with a cursor. Erase her. Unlearn her. I sedate with an apathetic facade. Take naps in the middle of dawn. Act civil. I'm not. I could write an anatomy of saddening. The path to being tragically unhappy. It's not too late to turn around, but my momentum's hurdling. How can I hit the breaks? No slowing down.