In darkness, we lick the petrifying light; under the Sun, we long for the irresolute Moon. So, why do you hate us? Why do you ignore us? Have we ever offended you? Would you like us to apologize, with our heads turned south?
You see... One is our breath and 18 is our semen. Their sum is our world torn apart, just like that, blown to smithereens. That’s why we eat its black, blood-stained pieces every day. You think you know us, yet you should be thanking your dead Lord for not facing the worst of us. And while you’re there, taste some of His rotten insides.
We dream of our Mothers, 24 frames per second, but our second lasts longer than the innate pain. Isn’t that convenient?
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