Tuesday, September 29, 2015

death you are

As another Lame Cherry exclusive in matter anti matter.

On our walk tonight, I noticed one of our cows asleep in a bottom, and then she was acting strange as the other cows moved off. Something told me she had a calf, but that could not be as I knew she was bulling yet in May, and calves take 9 months.
So I walked out there, as she was looking intently at me, and stood on a rock to get a better view, and then I saw the little dark brown patch of fur and little whitish tipped hooves, the dark eyes, of a calf dead, which looked too mature to be that premature, and yet there it was.

I really have had enough of death in what matters. The death of billions of you is not going to do anything but delight me.

I know how you are my children, as a fly sits on this laptop, and I will kill it without thought or remorse to be glad to be rid of the ........yes fly swatted and now dead.

You are all gaping wounds, both children and brats, and you are all mine. Some of you need tender care and can behave with all of your hurts, but most of you are just clawing primal screams who need to gouge something out of me in thinking that will solve things, as you do it all through your existences in attacking those around you, and they attack back, and the fire of your wrath fills this entire world with a malevolent jagged tear like a 10 foot gravel tear on your skin when you wipe out on a bike.

Another fly kept trying to die here, and finally succeeded, and the heinous of you will. You will claim you want to live, but it is you are too cowardly to die like an adult or send yourself to hell with an overdose. So you will just keep ripping pieces of Spiritual flesh off of the innocent until you get what you want, a meat grinding punishment to fit all the pain you deserve.
You never got over being born into cold world of light. All you lusted for and still do from that moment is to crawl back into the warm darkness, a darkness you reject God for and as dark as you are.

Holly has a brother or sister, a fur ball called another name. A sick little kitty with festering eyes and a snotty cough with stuff out the nose. Salve in the eyes from my dead Setter's meds, and .5 mils of penn from the last of the meds from my dead buck, and little kitty has been busy running and playing like Holly, as Holly sent him to fill in.

Lots of death, but then that is what the world is, as you just keep screaming in primal rage, cutting yourselves deeper in all you inflict on the innocent. Yes you will deny it, that you are not a part of this, and you will deny it before Christ, before you are even more dead then all the death you inflicted upon the world.