Gramiscus

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I am the Lord of the Dance. Behold my nimble legs. When I type it echoes in my house because my house is made of hollow rocks and stones and concrete walls. My metaphorical prison is the third rabbit that unbundles my laundry. With the third coming of the noon the flesh of fallen angels and then I said I wouldn't takeout but it's too high in calories.

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Dreadful Spat Club #3

by Gramiscus
11-22-02

Now that i've gotten to know myself better, i've gotten to know them too. I know their names. They don't even have to tell me. I just do. Don't ask me how, i'm psychic I guess.

I walk home every night. Not alone. He's there, right behind me. I can feel him. Hear him. I can see him.

Sometimes it's not that bad. They bring me stuff when I ask for it, and pop beer caps off for me.


	Yes, master.


	Just let me sleep. That's all I care about. Torture me some other time..

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