The gospel of Itchy Wiggle Christ by Gregory-John McCormick, Ralf Dellhofen (best way to read books .TXT) 📕

my nightmares are not too intense. there´s a monster-woman thing called "wraith" on "stargate:atlantis", a sci-fi TV show. it´s a fairly good program! and this monster-woman is quite hideous and yet beautiful, and she sucks the life out of men through their chests. i could only think - i am strangely attracted to this wraith woman and would like to insert unnatural and abnormally large objects into her body, my dick included! and also that i know a girl or girls that can suck the life out of me, probably even better than the wraith-woman. and those girls are humans and real, not science fiction. quite a scary concept. but i only know crazy girls.

 

today i finished my celtic devil-bull thing, i´m quite satisfied. and i started a new thing almost immediately, a perplexing representation of a woman in the form of the venus symbols - and i´m not really sure how to feel about it. i find women, most women, to be very beautiful, mysterious, and confusing beings. i´ve never been able to figure them out, and they always end up hurting me, but i always go back for more. i don´t know exactly why i am painting this "venus woman" picture. there must be some deep freudian thing going on in me. but then again i have not had the carnal pleasure of a woman for four years, and my balls are turning blue and i´m half-crazy from the lack of sex. so maybe painting a strange venus figure is not a mystery. i just miss women and i revere them with my brush and paint. i´m such a hopeless romantic, ha ha. goodnight, ladies.

 

saturday morning, the second day of october, the year of your lord 2004. funny how i never thought i would be alive past the year 2000. i have a distorted psychic sense that i tend to ignore because it is so confusing and often i do not want to know the future or what someone else is thinking or doing, but the psychic sense i do have. and i am especially "good" at seeing future events or the possibilities of future events, since the future is not ever certain. and i could never see past the year 2000 when i "looked" into my future - and now i know why, because i ended up being imprisoned by the lovely and vicious nazis of michigan. and oh, do i ever regret coming back to america. i should have stayed forever in my beautiful europe. but the time for regrets is over and done with. i saw an astrologer who did my star-chart, actually two different astrologers did my chart and both told me i had very unique chart that showed the star of david, and it predisposed me to a very controversial fate in life, that i could be very influential in the world - but also that the chart meant that i have a strong psychic sense. i went into a hypnotic trance and tried to view the future. i didn´t see myself alive past the year 2000. i also saw a very cataclysmic event for the earth, namely a nuclear holocaust started by a pakistani or indian leader. strange stuff, but i know the first part came true. my life is ended now, the nazis of michigan took it away and i really doubt if they will ever give it back. i am dead in spirit, dead dead dead.

 

snick-snack fucky ducky creeping jesus crawling across the floor begging for mercy. get off the cross, loser, someone else needs the wood. is there dirt in one´s soul? and if so, is there a soap that can clean it? - i know the answer is LSD, of course, but i feel myself in need of soul cleansing - yet i am in a place where i can get nothing of the sort, but it is possible to get the old devil every night to take away my migraines and relieve my depression. although chemical anti-depressants are something that makes me nervous. okay, so i don´t feel depressed but i know i should be depressed. the energy of depression is a reaction to my experience in hell. so where is the energy going? hm? perhaps it will come roaring back in a tidal wave of suicidal madness when i stop taking the elavil? - maybe the depression is erased by the elavil, and the energy of depression is dissipated in side-effects? - there are some side-effects, that in certain, but nothing so bad that i even notice. my whole day, every day, is a journey through hell, so any measley side-effects from brain-altering chemicals are barely noticed. it is enough just to try to get through a single day without killing some schwarze schwull monster or killing myself or? - i just want to be free, i don´t want any goddamned elavil or dreams or cookies or chocolate. i only want to be free. i deserve to be free. but i also am coming to expect that this is the end of my life and there is no hope for freedom. i am dying inside. my soul is withering, i am becomming an empty shell. goodnight, satan.

 

crap. headache again, the medicine is not working and i feel like total shit. i sleep soon, though, so it doesn´t matter. nothing matters, actually - nothing at all. some commercial on ami-TV promoting what some asshole considers a "new and funny" show where men dress as women and try to live their life as a woman. it makes me want to vomit to see this shit - and it is yet another attempt for america to shove the homosexual agenda down the throats of the world. homos and blacks, the TV gods command that all you stupid viewers accept and love the immoral, sick, and evil shit of this already diseased world. and you do it, too, you stupid fucks. goodnight, retards.

 

death, disease, dying spirits, faltering courage in the face of entropy. what is life but one long struggle? a bunch of bad events, one after the other, and only death is the final release from all the pain, torture, heartache and loss. i myself will be most pleased when my final breath is exhaled. in fact, may this notice be read when whoever-it-is finds my body, lifeless and cold. you will know why there is a smile on my face when i am finally dead - i am happy and finally free. may that day be soon.

 

another sick fuck day has passed, one of the many that have passed, another like the many more that will come. i saw bits and pieces of this movie "flatliners" tonight - it made me think a bit more about death than i usually do. what came to my mind was how many times i almost died because i injected too much of one drug or another. many times this happened, and on several occasions my heart stopped and i stopped breathing. but i always came back for some unbeknownst reason. maybe if i did not i would not have to go through all the shit i go through now. and i honestly wish i would have died from an overdose - at least i would have gone out with a bang, instead of slowly dying in this faggot schwarze torture chamber prison. and i would have gone out with a strange smile on my face at a young age, whereas now i am aging beyond my normal years, i look at least ten years older than i am, and it is getting worse. there is a dead look in my eyes that mirrors the death of my soul. but, contrary to popular opinion, it is very difficult to die from an overdose of cocaine or even heroin. albeit i have a very high tolerance for any drug or alcohol beverage, i never could get myself past the brink of life into the true happyland of death. and i think i really tried. shooting up an entire gram of coke or a whole quarter gram of heroin still never earned me the death i truly wish for now. hell, i used to drink 2000ml of irish whiskey every day and rather quickly each day, and that did not kill me. so maybe nothing can kill me, or maybe it was not destined for me to die yet - no kismet for litte itchy, no no no. the gods above or a really pissed off jesus decided to torture my skinny ass in the worst way possible before letting me die. but i know someday i will die. may it be soon. goodnight, my executioners.

 

it is 06:30 in the goddamned son of a bitch morning, i am fighting the chemical fog of medication, trying to stay awake and alert, trying to ignore the noise and the schwarze faggots lurking about. today i heard a saying: "the second i committed murder, i surrendered my right to exist" - and i thought about it. murder, and at which context one take that saying. murdering some one who deserves death seems as though a favor to the world. what about the murder of animals? what about the majority of you peep-holes out there who eat animals that you so ambivalentely choose to ignore the fact that the animal you eat was murdered by someone else, and that none of you actually murdered the animals yourself? oh, sorry, you call the murder of animals "butchering". it makes you feel so much better about it all. but i will tell you, i have seen more soul and unconditional love in the eyes of a cow or goat or chicken or pig than i have ever seen in the eyes of a human being. and humans are the worst monsters on the planet earth, capable of atrocitiesand ugliness that no animal could ever committ. and yet humans run the show on planet earth. so which one of you eaters-of-innocent-animals deserve to live and which deserve to die? why can´t humans be "butchered" like cows and other innocent animals are "butchered"? because you meat-eaters have a soul? because you have higher intelligence? bet me on that one. i look at your filthy hoards of humans and i only can think, what a hopeless bunch of retards you all are. throw a rock into a crowd and one will hit a retard, faggot, or child molester for certain, and usually more than one of those maladies, or something worse that i cannot even fathom. i tend to block out the horrors of humanity, opting not to even think about how fucking horrible humans really are. i see only faceless, stinking, loud-mouthed blobs getting in my way and irritating the living shit out of me. if i had my way, i would exterminate an incredible amount of people, based on such things like whether the designated to be exterminated eats meat, has an intelligence below 100, bathes regularly, listens to schwarze music, is a dirty queer, has loud mouth, watches MTV, is an american. shit, it is just my bad luck that everyone is not more like me, this would be a much better world. but the world has too many people in it anyway. earth is running out of breathable air. goodnight, peepholes.

 

happy crappy morning, sick fucks all over the world. you wake up in your beds and are able to eat your breakfast and drink your morning beer, or whiskey in the morning, as i used to prefer, and pet your cat and stand on your balcony naked and scream out a big "ha ha haaa!" at the new day. you can do all this, but not me. i wake up in coldness on a hard plastic mat, surrounded by homosexual schwarze predators screaming things i cannot even begin to understand, nor would i ever want to, and i smell the most foul odors of