Note from Denise
All I had become was thus painted on my face-vanity-and what i had thus spoken from my vile tongue spewed forth from my juvenile breast of disdain. But this was just the beginning of my surrealistic journey, my make believe “i am the new hoopla” squeezed appropriately, sufficiently, distended in your black box, televising all my oddities up close and effectual. With each new, methodical, despicable movement of my being, i closed my fists around a wretched lie which sought to eradicate my life at an impromptu time and i had built no stomach for the fight. With each new bitterness dispelled formulated by this cruel cold world of which i had become its strange kind, i shut my eyes and with deep complaint muttered words of death and despair, while the hot flames seeped, boiled and burned ablaze under my bottle. I was molding to the likes of mediocrity, vulnerability, having had all the experience of a trained seal, being pushed to the brink of hopelessness, and helpless to perpetuate a flawless, ruinous end. The devil’s perversities snatched up what little strength that lay within me, seeping and sneaking through, preferably choosing their way into my joints, branding and searing my lungs and oh so much torment from scraping away at my own flesh. He waited patiently for the reading of my obituary. I was unrelenting, unreasonably lost, suffocating in dumb foundedness, further seeking pleasure in a round glass bottle full of vitriolic venom, which slid me into depression beyond blockades. I should have been thoroughly engulfed in an ocean of careful wondrous dreams with the whole Kingdom beset before me, however my ocean thrust me against the rocks and ripped my sour soul in two, thus rendering my upper half to a tornado and with my lower, i lowered myself to that of a squatting dog, dare i say sucking up his own vomit.
This is my story...........DENISE
