CharlArends

I fear the fictional characters of my nightmares – the ugly, the crippled and deformed, the smelly, the big and the freakishly small – are all currently around me. Following me. Stalking me from the shadows. Waiting to pounce and drag me away to the Netherworlds. I had a demon for every day. A chip on my shoulder. Switching between dreams, reality and the speed trailing of my mind, I find an escape in walking these streets. But as in a tempest, a sudden darkness overwhelms my soul. A crawling sensation runs up my spine. They are out there. They are watching. They are everywhere. We all witnessed it. A blinding light in the autu

You, you salivating, flapped eyed, self-absorbed, blubbering mess You thick, self-promoting, uncertified mentally disturbed, half-wit who cannot see past your own narrow scope, your veiled perception of this world. You, you who look down, look up, look to anything for egotistical means You who scoff, belittle, judge, pretend and hide your own insecurities and mistakes of whatever past or future endeavours but hypocritically resent the truthful ones. You, you traditional, oppressive, this-works-because-it-works type You who refuse to see the plank in your own eye, to smell the stench of your own surroundings stooped in practices old and o