The gospel of Itchy Wiggle Christ by Gregory-John McCormick, Ralf Dellhofen (best way to read books .TXT) ๐
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- Author: Gregory-John McCormick, Ralf Dellhofen
Read book online ยซThe gospel of Itchy Wiggle Christ by Gregory-John McCormick, Ralf Dellhofen (best way to read books .TXT) ๐ยป. Author - Gregory-John McCormick, Ralf Dellhofen
my ship is drifting in space, i am frozen in hibernation. i have such terrible dreams in my endless sleep. dreams about being held prisoner by amerikan nazis in a prison filled with monster homosexual retards, and all because i lit a pile of garbage on fire. i dream that i have been in prison for over four years and that there is no guarantee when i will ever be set free. well, i know eventually i will awaken and find myself with my wife and kids and cats and dogs and goats. i will be in ireland and free and able to drink my whiskey and stout and walk in the moonlight with my wife, hand in hand. yes, someday i will wake up, and this horrible nightmare will be over.
perhaps i will die in my sleep tonight, and find my soul in a heaven that looks just like ireland, with my beautiful german wife, with heavenly bushmills to drink by the barrelfull. perhaps i will die tonight, and never wake up to this nightmare reality i am stuck in. please, if there is a god or goddess watching over me, read my words and take pity on my tortured soul. please let me die tonight, please.
as i could have easily predicted, no god or goddess heard my plea or deigned to answer my prayer, i am still here in hell, i am still alive, i am still suffering. i am so wholly and entirely convinced that evil exists and is so much stronger than "god" - it seems as tho there is no good left in this world, if it ever existed in the first place. the proof is so obvious in my case. how i could be imprisoned for so long with no hope of ever getting out, to be separated from the one i love and the land i love, and consequently imprisoned with monsters whom i hate with all my soul, in a country that i equally hate with every fiber of my being. considering the life i had before this evil overcame me. the freedom i had to do all i wanted, the frame-of-mind i possessed to live free and clear of societieยดs "normal" jobs and responsibilities. the luck i had with my band, playing all over europe and having my recording studio. my painting and writing. the girls, the money, the drinking, the psychedellics. berlin, paris, amsterdam, cork, dublin, ljubljana, stuttgart. it is so hard to imagine that it is all gone now, and i have no idea when or if iยดll ever have it again. yes, evil exists and has its inexorable grip on me.
if i wanted you dead, youยดd be lying over there with the rest of your fucking family. kill him, slipping, slipping, edging into the abyss, i am staring into the abyss, dr. nietzsche, and the abyss is staring back into me. and i am the monster that i always knew i was. the big question remains, what to do with the monster. no, frรคulein, not that. open that bottle at your own risk, but i should warn you, i do not relent once the whiskey takes over. but then again, you know who i am. i am the monster you want to love. i am the monster i need to destroy. attraction and death and sex and humiliation. all are one, as the monster is one. i am the filth and the ecstasy. i am not the schwarze monsters i so oft refer to in this writing. no, the monster in me is so much dark and destructive, my monster has the super-genius intelligence quotient, my monster has the charm and the wit. my monster plays psycho-terror games that have levels upon levels upon levels. not even i know how deep they run sometimes. so now it is time for the monster to sleep. the small death, the temporary escape. no one can take that from me, at least. not until tomorrow. gute nacht, meine schรถne frau.
a video game system is blamed for the deaths of six people. this is how stupid americans are - they blame video games for murder. they will blame a video game or violent TV show or toxic drinking water for bad crimes before they ever blame the actual piece-of-shit who committed the crime, especially when that piece-of-shit idiot is some black monster faggot on crack. there are issues that americans will never address, and all this is part of the reason why america is falling, just as rome did. america parallels the same rise and decline that rome did, but americans are too naive and arrogant to recognize this. i really donยดt give a flying shit, and i actually applaud the idiocy of americans that will surely lead to the fall of their evil, sick, and degenerate country. this writing is not a sociology lesson, and hardly a political discussion, unless it pertains to me and my situation. and my personal creedo of anarchy and chaos and the creation of some kind of system that will make me the king of the world, or at least the king of ireland, really has little to do with the sickness and decline of america. one can easily do their own reading and research. but actually it is easy enough to just read a non-biased newspaper on a relatively daily basis to see that this country is going to hell. and a good book to read is "the rise and fall of rome". for me, and what is the scope of this "book" - it is a bit like "the fall of itchy wiggle christ". my slow but sure decline into depression, despair, entropy. culminating in?
how many times do i have to wake up to hearing loud-mouth animals and all the sickness and lowest forms of what "humans" have evolved into? my guess is that humans, or what is masqueraded as humans in this hell, is actually de-evolved monsters or mutations of what was once something trying to be a human but which had failed miserably. it seems that when machines are broken, they are repaired or discarded. how many times i have heard the term "machine" applied to that of the human body. so when these machines are broken, diseased, perverted, dangerous, why are they not repaired or discarded? my solution would be to stick all these homo-retard monsters on some remote island on the other side of the world. that or just put cyanide in their mcdonalds hamburgers or kentucky fried chicken. the gods know that these filthy beasts could not live without their meat to eat. that and their unnatural same-sex rituals, which the CIA has not quite yet successfully used against these monsters by introducing the HIV virus into their "community". i like my cyanide-in-the-chicken idea better, this way it wipes out a whole segment of the population that gets itยดs sick jollies by eating animal flesh. there is a lot of anger in me. but then, i doubt anyone would be happy to be woken up from a nap by the inane monkey-chatter of a bunch of retarded homosexual monsters. unless you, dear reader, end up in prison someday, and specifically a michigan prison, i also doubt that you can understand my anger. just believe me, it is bad.
he that increases knowledge, increases sorrow. these are very apt words for me now, altho they are usually recited at funerals, they apply quite well to me now. even tho my "life" as it is, is more of a death, or a living death. and the more i know, the sadder i become, because i know more and more every day i am alive, how horrible living actually is. i watched "mary shelleyยดs frankenstein" tonight, and the words were in the film, and i had many thoughts about life, and how easy it is to make a life not worth living. and the question of what life really is? how something so simple and innocent could make my soul soar in the heavens. things like feeding my finchees or seeing a mouse nibble at the fincheeยดs bread. or thinking about the girl i love. but all these feelings are so quickly destroyed by simply thinking of where i actually am, and how fucked and hopeless my life and freedom are. and with these see-saw emotions comes the knowledge. and i know my life is over, that evil has won, that evil will always win, that anytime change or sense is introduced to this shit-fucked world, it is squashed and imprisoned and eliminated. yea, my sorrow increased.
oh, hello beautiful day! welcome to hell! i am the super-intelligent retard that lives here. i am the alpha and the omega, i am the tortured one. all the culturally deficient violent retards inhabit hell, and i am alone, i am the only retard who possesses a soul. and my soul is being destroyed, exposed to the lowest scum of humanity. i spit on this word: humanity, to me it is synonymous with garbage and filth and death and iniquity. my life is stolen, my soul is stolen, my health is failing. it is becomming harder and harder to wake up these mornings, as if my body does not want to wake up to this living hell. but also it is because i am physically very ill and my body is dying - so it makes sense in many ways that i only wish to sleep and dream, to stay as the only way i can be as far from this hell as possible: asleep, it is an escape, and the only real escape possible without being shot by overzealous nazi cops with orders to shoot and kill escapees. then again, the only way to really sleep is to shove pieces of foam-rubber deep into my ear canals, and even that does not completely drown out the screams of the homo-schwarze monsters. but usually i am so wiped out from running that i can sleep through the sick insanity. but other times i cannot. iยดm in so much pain at times that the most i can do is cry into my pillow. horrible strange pains all inside my guts. so hello again and guten morgen on this beautiful day in hell! KOTZEN!
to build a foundation for the rest of my life, HA HA HA. my head is pounding so badly, it hurts so fucking much that i think i must soon puke. and blood and bile will come out. a new chapter of evil. delicious streams of paradise. carnal knowledge of multiple girls, knowing when to let them touch each other and when to give them the irish python. cancel the queenยดs visit. change the meeting place. vibrating frequencies. scientific gobble-dee-gook. iยดm seeing flashes of color and strobe-like violence, the migraine is in full effect, the letters on this page are shifting back and
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