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Showing posts from September, 2022

Couple.

  Seen a couple walking hand in hand in the ground. My mind told me to bury them alive. I always wanted someone beside me to hate them. I don't know why do they do what they do.  The over acting of couple seems almost more chilling than the snap of thanos.  You know i am a madman my self. I am a man with hills and valleys. I am not like my relatives. Just plain land. Rotting dead to the core. Almost hating for what ain't and never loving for what is. If i hate somome i immediately want to bury them alive. If i love someone i search for reasons to meet them.

Confessions to the beloved 2.

  Darling. You brought it to me slowly. But you couldn't take it away slowly. Hate you.

Her cheeks.

  Finally you meet her cheeks. Not that you see her whole. But those damn cheeks demand to be kissed. It's like they are waiting for my lips to squeeze and bite those. Specially those corners of the lips. God made you only for the sole purpose to kiss those cheeks. I wonder what happens to her if I kiss those cheeks.

Happiness.

  Money cant buy bappines. But it can buy dozens of condoms. Who doesn't want to be happy. Just use those and never reproduce any idiot. You are already an idiot wasting half of life and nagging and bitching all the time. First step to successfull life is never to nut in pussies. You lose when babies win. You use condoms so they won't win.

Bulb.

  It's not really necessary that a light bulb should work eternally or it might get fused within minutes of installation or it might work only in the day or it might refuse never to glow again. Even they have feelings. The man comes wearing a helmet half broken his face questioning how much we would charge for that bulb. Technician says that it might be bulb or the wiring or the one that holds the bulb. "Holder," says the customer. Hmm. He takes the screwdriver and opens those six screws and says it's the bulb and the wiring harness is cut. As he demands an explaination he gets answered that rats screwed those wires. After work he asks how much it has cost. He says, 120 for the bulb, 20 for the tape, and 60 for fixing it. The man was ok that the issue got fixed but he couldn't get the tally of what for what. Technician explains it on the paper mentioning this is this and this is tape and that 60 for making things work. He still didn't get what he was meant to ...

don't rush it.

  L ife is like Mahler’s symphony, you can’t rush it baby.

dialouge.

  Me: when are we going to meet our relatives. Dad: when one of our relative dies.

the little i notice.

  After avoiding the Demented paper boy, Deafeated garbage man, Cunt struck neighbor, Witless liberated ladies, Kind souls who were whores, Cock sucking ladies, And life sucking jobs, I found a mirror which reflected the damned me, then I avoided me, Which I should have done at the beginning.

thank you god.

  It was his first time seeing it, after so many days, not the days, not the days, years, years had he been not seeing it. He always wondered how it would be, black, white, burnt, clean, hygienic, filthy, dirty, whatever it might be. It was just an awe of lightning in him, he cried with joy, alas, I am going to see it for real, no blackmagicfuckery, just seeing it fully, just like a moon shining through clouds on the mountains lighting the lake water glowing the soul of his uncharted sea of revolutionary yearning of his delightful ecstasy. Hurrah, Hurrah, Hurrah to his patient soul, Hurrah to her who brought it, Hurrah to the one who carried it, Universe revolved around it, Universe between it, Universe in it, Universe on it, Universe above it, below it, down it, If it didn’t liked it, it would have flushed the universe with single snap. He lay there still wondering. She lay calm with a delightful smile filled with great aroma in her panties. He opened it slowly, first the shirt, t...

soft white ass.

  Such wonderful creatures they were, those soft white asses, wiggling, juggling, delicate with their loose hair and box shaped spectacle’s which would look sexy if we shoot our hot white serum on them. Who didn’t know poverty who didn’t know what is fire. Who didn’t know 12 hours of working, didn’t know night shifts, didn’t know rooms with roaches, crumps of bread taken out from dustbin to calm the agony of belly, bloody fights, rough sex, empty bellies, wailing kids, drunkard fathers, bitchy mothers, dirty old men. That soft rich white ass under that tight legging who never knew anything about night shifts or a ten hour job which paid pretty less with which you can’t even survive for ten days and surviving for a whole month in a tin roofed room without a personal bathroom masturbating in jungle while drinking vodka which would probably damage your liver in future but what to do, we can’t do anything better about our present situation for not getting paid enough and not living any...

dear fellow death.

  Death will never spare you, no one is exceptional, it will not give you any time, it will not knock on your door, and it would not answer if you enquire who the hell it is. Meanwhile you can have a nice kiss and nice fuck and eat something or take a hot Jacuzzi. Death is not like any woman or any other unimportant needed shit in your life, if it comes it never knocks, it comes at a crazy speed and never goes for your weary face or lifeless anxiety of your foolish nightmarish life.  Its not like you, bitching while living and thinking about life when death arrives, NO, it does its duty. “GO GET IT,” that’s its motive. It doesn’t matter who you are. It will knock down your heart and stand naked on your belly and takes the shit out of your gut. Looking at your eyes, the troubled life of what you may have your age, but it never ceases to exist, it’s inexhaustible, it’s a grace, a gratitude, it’s life, another life in another dimension, that’s what death is, but it never knocks, ...

eat it, don't fuck it.

  It’s hard to conceive what kind of perverts are there in this neighbourhood, they are aggressive, pessimistic towards life, fully loaded with repressive energy, repressed brains, repressed guts, they need a touch of wild life, (more they need is a touch of a woman, a gentle would do a great deal for these disturbed souls) often there are those intelligent perverts who masturbated once in a week or weak perverts who did it twice in a day, some extreme muscle guys who did it 4 times a day still feeling to do it again and again until they choked to death, and those who dared to visit a prostitute did go, but there are those who can’t be satisfied with masturbation and they don’t dare to visit a prostitute, their houses were full of female flesh showing bosoms and at nights the creaking beds, they were hungry preys of sex, loaded pistols waiting for chance, if they got a woman they were afraid of them and didn’t dare to touch them, they weren’t any psychos but rather full of compassi...

love it is.

Image
That was the cleanest scar I had ever seen. Sweet litt le curly black was marked on her soft little hand, which carried the aroma of ecstatic child’s laugh calling “daddy.” Damn, love it is. That was it. Finally someone made me aware. It’s really really RELIGIOUS when someone makes you aware. Be it booze which makes you externally aware making others fool while love makes it internally making others beautiful while death hangs around to take you for a little stroll. Then I drilled my heart to find who that person would If I ever wanted a tattoo on me. Damn not a soul. I looked into the mirror. It was disappointing. I gagged a lot, I gagged a lot until my stomach ached. It was satisfying, Reality was satisfying sometimes, so was aloneness caused by loneliness, only when you have guts to realize it. It never happened. Once happens it’s too late to handle, You accept to handle it then it pushes away. She reminded me of all the things I wanted to do and i never did. The woman i loved got i...

the damned me.

  Oh let me see her, she is eating, and I am eating too. That black headed red lipsticked woman, and her black pimples bursting out of her chins look ugly. I am not interested in them, I want to see her waist, strip of her bra, her panty lines on her tight jeans, her fingers itching her crotch. I want my dick in that tight crotch and walk all the down to her home. Let me wait until she bends, god let her hanky fall down, let her bend a little down so that I can watch her back and find out what color panty she is wearing or how cute her ass cleavage is. She bends over, she is wearing a black panty. I am excited, let me see it another time. She bends and I watch it again. Oh goddamn her black panty is so exciting, have to jerk it off until it expires having imagining it again and again. Waiter comes with the bill, I yell “can’t you wait, let me watch her bend over another time, let her finish first,” in my mind. He hands me the bill, he wants the bill, he wants the tip too. I give hi...

why waste when you have so much.

  If your love is confined to only one, then you are psychologically weak.

beauty and bitch.

  Seen a lady buying a book called “the subtle art of not giving a fuck.” She gave a quick fuck buying it. And then an old woman bought the book “the idiot,” by dos. And proceeded on her way happily. I tried to talk to the lady. “Fuck off, I don’t give a damn,” said she. The old woman called me and said, “My child, beauty and bitch exist together.”

you being you making me.

  I know you, you are just here to make me sick. Have you ever thought of your existence, a simple “why,” which will make you “cry,” which would make your mind “blank sky.” Think about it. You are just a depressed consoomer making the rich richer and poor more hungry. I know you, you are just here to laugh watching “JABARDAST,” beat your meat to hot aunt’s. You are just a horrible fat eater wasting time. Anyway… you just made yourself useful by being some content to me. Thank you for being your rotten you. Without you I am not me. I will be kind to you next time. Until then don’t stop watching “ETV.” Hope you have a JABARDAST day.

life of a pervert.

  Insanity, he believed in the shit which nobody ever believed or even dared to imagine or to act, just to have sex with his own sister, at a storm or catastrophe, all he cared for was sex. He wasn’t introduced to the act but he highly delighted, and amused himself by masturbating in his mothers and sisters panties. When he walked in the streets all he saw was blouses, faded bras: the more old the bra the more he liked it, stained panties: the more stained the panties the more he liked it, he wanted to bite them, lick all over it again and again, all of them on the tenterhooks. He was obsessed with panties, he watched all the balconies, he counted them, he once came to a conclusion that how many lived in those houses, and at the evenings he spent his time drinking tea and eating food which helped him strengthen his libido, and watched women sauntering the streets. He waited for the women who wore jeans and leggings and, if he saw women with jeans he would follow them, he would look...

Plant a green.

  Obscene is the life, is the art, is the way, is the expression, is the way you look, is the way you create, is the way you deliver, is the way you suffer. Obscene is the mother, the sister, the lover, the man who helped you, the man who deceived you, the man who detested you, the man whom you hate. Obscene is the petticoat of your sister, the bra of your mother, the panty of your neighbor on the tenterhooks. Obscene is the hole of a panty in the right cheek butt of the whore whom you have never known. Obscene is the hole of the whore whom you fucked last night. Obscene is the show where you steal, the way you dance, the way you sing, the way you cry, the way you laugh. Obscene is the life. Obscene is the death. Obscene is the bitch that shows her panty in a public garden sitting on a sofa with an old man squeezing her milkless dd’s. Obscene is his dick, obscene is his wife, obscene are his children, obscene is his granddaughter. Obscene is the old man, obscene are those who see h...

Thigh lockings.

  Long Cuddlings with sweet little nothings, Interrupting Kisses with pointy moustache and beard, Thigh locking with heated muscles, Pinky pullings, Hair playing with smelling, Short kisses, Long kisses, Lip locks, Deep kisses, Violent kisses, Honey polished kisses, Kisses with blood leakage, Cunt massaging, Heavy thrusts, Deep gaspings, Sound reamings, Cherry smashings, Hair pullings, Underarm smellings, Waist tickles, Hips squeezing, Ear kisses, Nipple biting, Nipple pullings, Butt eating, Butt smashing, Cunt kissing With fingers half way up the crotch, And the Slow moans, And Loud moans, Nail polishing, Covered blanket discussions, Intellectual shit, Heart to heart phenomenon, And more And more And more And Trust, And Experience, And Brutality, And Honesty, And loyalty, And Hell, And Heaven, And Demons, And Angels, And Defeated angles And Cynical gods, But shit… And all we get are wrinkled old farts that never dreamed of life and scared of death And their agony of not getting ec...

confessions to the beloved.

  “I love you, I want to rest in your lap and feel your essence, I want to eat with you, I want to share my inner beast with you, I want to kiss you on your forehead, I want you to kiss me on my forehead, I want to kiss you and run away if you don’t allow me to do it, and I want you to like it, I want to play with your hair, I want to play with your cheeks, I want to kiss your cheeks, kiss them slowly and insanely more than some fucking millions times so that my lip marks stays on your cheeks, I want to do it everyday so those lip marks stays where they belong,  I want to bite your lips: instantly and intensely, I want to talk sweet little nothings with you, I want to share how I became a loner, a psychopath, well that’s the name you gave me, I want you to beat me, I want you to kiss me wild, I want you to play with my inner child, I want you to rest in my lap, I want you to allow me have my hand on your thigh and your hand on my hip with my head taking peaceful breath in you ...

hot chips.

  we use only refined sunflower oil.

battle.

  The core of his house full of energy, without patience, no simplicity but only complexity, no compassion for the living but passion for the dead objects. Such was the age, one can’t blame the person. And every object misplaced. Shirts torn, dirty underwears, naked glow less bodies all over the walls half ripped, the soul less mirror which reflected his soul less laziness. The calendar on the wall, and there was a mark on the 31 st  day and he was waiting for it. To ones amazement it’s not the date of announcing the result or any arrivals of fresh fashions, or his crush’s birthday, or any holiday but the date was set to beat his meat. But why did he mark the date, there were days when he used to beat day and night, he wasn’t afraid of any ghosts in the night. He watched porn: before eating, while eating, after eating, all he did was nothing or cared nothing except to eat and watch and beat. Every time he took a vow not to beat for a month and he failed at the 4 th  day, ...

old soul.

  Not every old man is ugly, though they look ugly they are beautiful, they laugh a hearty laugh, even the most beautiful man is sometimes ugly, they can’t help it. The beautiful behaviour betrayed by the chaotic anger which nobody knows why it comes. Just like Dostoyevsky’s characters. Often they go crazy, the man, 80 years, loved children, his own children betrayed him, he felt lonely, he goes to the park where children play, and gives them candies, chocolates, ice creams, but he was hated by some kids, so he decided not to go to the park, and then he decided to adopt a child, gender didn’t matter to him, he wanted to take care of some one, so he brought a baby. People who saw him with the baby had a question mark in their heads that what would happen to the baby. But he cared a great deal, he massaged the babies little limbs, belly, and legs, gave proper diet, bathed it with warm water, soaped it, shampooed it, changed the diapers, he was happy, he forgot the world while taking ...

neighbour.

  One or the other time a fight would happen in the neighbourhood, people being sympathetic to the victim and acting innocent as if they didn’t want it to happen or wait for it to happen with their ETV watching busy lives filled with reality of BIGBOSS. Fleas would gather around the wound. It would slow a little bit after the so called newspaper reading debate watching old fags show up and then they would decide what should be done while they can’t even make peace with their brother. And the one who listens to these old fags is the chosen one. Everyone would calm down. Elders have given a solution. Some would lighten their face with complete hope on elders. But after a little bit it would get worse. Some one would blame the elders for heating things up. Someone would blame the whore who caused it. Someone would just sit there  in their little rooms watching from windows with their crunchy noise of   khari  dipped in hot chai. Someone would tell someone. Someone ...

mannequin

  “How much is that mannequin.” “It’s not for sale.” “Everything is for sale.” “But not here, madam.” “Please, I need it.” “Why, what are you going to do with that.” “Well, my friend is fond of it and I need to buy it for her birthday.” “But why a mannequin, why not a real man.” “Shit, why would one need a real man second time, she is already married.” “Well what is she gonna do to it.” “She is an artist, she needs to paint on body.” “Can’t she do it on her husband.” “Because he doesn’t like it.” “What would it be if she paints it on this mannequin.” “He won’t be disturbed, he won’t be exhausted, he won’t move, he won’t make a slight movement, and whatnot every possible thing.” “But, you see, it’s not for sale.” “Please, she needs it, she wants to practice it before she can move to the original thing.” “Madam why don’t you try in another boutique.” “This mannequin is perfect for her.” “Madam it is not for sale” “What is for sale then.” “Clothes, t-shirts, shirts, and undergarments ...