i lied, i lied, a thousand times i lied.

i don't know who this story is about. i don't know if it's an 'i,' 'you,' 'he,' or 'she' story. i'll probably pick three and rotate them.  because when you think about it, doesn't it happen to us all?


i was found dead on the road. i hear i was contorted and bloody, only the blood wasn't my own, and i died simply because i was afraid. i always thought that was so fucking ironic- i was fucking scared to death.

and every time she's walking down the street, the girl who might've been me, the girl whose blood i was found in though she's also dead, i cringe. because she hears people crowing about amusement parks and how the upside-down roller coaster scared them to death, and she thinks of me. she's dead, but she still thinks of me. somehow, i feel loved.


he said he was a policeman. really, he was a rapist. he, you, i. it doesn't matter, everyone is a rapist. everyone thinks they want sex, but nobody does. it's too personal. it's not forever like you might think it is. because eventually, you wind up dead. eventually, you or i, we're found by some policeman named officer leon scurrow.

you, growing up in america or britain or in a treetop, you assume he is african-american. see, leon's parents, your parents or my parents, his parents had a sense of humour. leon is an albino. so that goes to show just how much you (or i or she) knows. really, no one knows anything.


i don't like the alphabet. i don't like capital letters. i don't like you, or maybe i don't like him or her or me. capital letters, they're just like us, and i don't like anyone. capital letters are egocentric and believe they (or we) deserve attention. we (or they) scream out, please just notice me, i'm important, i swear i am. capital letters have high-paying jobs that slowly kill them, lawyers to lose their souls, or doctors to imagine they can help someone. and no one, not even a capital letter, can live if they truly think they are nothing.

i, or you, or he or she, we all are lying in the middle of dirt roads, dead and covered in some lover's blood.

she is walking down the street, saying oh God, oh God, oh God like she means it, and i am just absolutely
scared to death.