GLOW.

LIFE is smattering of beats and tunes and bass notes. Contentment plays violins, and bettering yourself means drums and a bass that goes to encourage. Care about no one and your heart turns to ashes and dust and it's beautiful in the dying sun as it explodes in the pocket of our universe, and we can feel it in our brittle bones, shattering at the impact of the beats of disappointment and regret. But I won't shatter. Never shatter. Your illness is yours. Not mine. I'm infected. Radioactive. But I've overcome it, and your zombies are rotting as the world burns. ONE white, one black, and they devour you and your attempts to be human. You will never be human, petty little thing. Welcome to the new age, of fire, anger, contented peace, smooth waters, rustic winds, and sparkling tears. This is it. It's over. You've lost. And you drink yourself into oblivion. Are you lost? That's where you'll find that pathetic you and cry sand. Tears come from the soul--sand is all you can offer. LET the acid rain soothe your painted flesh and you'll see beauty in pain. Loss for words, sympathy, compassion--you've met your mirror, so drown in yourself. Full of alcohol, sex, and sin. Sink deeper. Deeper and deeper, and let blood run. AS the sun burns, I'm radioactive. No one else can be me. No one else can offer anything to you. What a crying shame. GLOW with strength and understanding, not shrouded in a cloud of marijuana to dull your senses. Pathetic. Feel the pain. Stop hiding. Stop lying to yourself. Become one with that passive little hate inside of you that you try so hard to kill. Silly woman. You're threatened, and you try so hard. So hard. But it'll never happen to you. Open your mind to bigger things. Hide in your drugs and self-chosen ignorance, quoting Buddha and God and Allah, thinking yourself spiritual, free-thinking, when your mind's dead. Your superiority is temporary. Welcome to the new age. Sad, silly woman. When will you ever learn? I, Ustanak, cower to no one, and I devour all souls which quiver in insecurity, in lies; souls unable to escape from their rotten-fleshy prisons. If you take a closer look, you'll see our destiny--lying in the mounds of dead ground. THE earth is finally dead. You will be too. And you'll be free from that sad, sorrowful self. YOU'RE welcome.