Fifth Amendment Right Against Self-Incrimination

 

It trickles down. That is what they say. Trickle down economy, trickle down education, relationship. Psychosis. A break. A tear in the oesophagus . A collapsed lung. Non breathing pattern. You hide your shit. You mend your shit. You live. I promised. She promised. Trickle down promises. Loneliness. Breaking pattern. Breaking walls. Chairs. Tables, wardrobes. Hate machine, hate speech. Hate love. Love cancer. Love death. Love memento morry. Moments. Missiles. Massacre. Mass media. Mass shooting. Mass abortion. Abort my feelings! 

Reaching for bottom. Reaching for …. grails. Filled with rotten water. Fist table. Me. Mess. Me and your SS. Single Service. Silent Sting. All that came moved away quite quickly. Your silence. Tares like pitchforks.  Gentle massacre. But no, makeup UP. Face on. Smile. Lipstickm out of the contoure. SMILE. A perfect masterpiece. Piece of shit self definition.I fucked up. Let down. Burned. I am so confusing. Bitch craft professional. Confesionals. I mistreated. Burned and killed. Swallowed and spit out. I am a festive melted plastic. Shiny ornament. Autistic tendencies. Mind, box of riddles. It’s all about being special.

See through liquid dripping from eye orifices 

*Product Placement* - I am water proof jedy. 

A stone cold glitter sparkle statue. 

They strap poster to ones forehead pretending, one calls bulshit. Share furniture, plates, knifes and forks in circles and drawers. Future reference. Fruitlessly marching and keeping notes. Not enough support. Failing anti malware systems. Shall play the role of a virus. Watch the rash spreading throughout. Bury and poison. 

Perfect girlfriend syndrome. Offering support network to self absorbed ego. Giving acid reflux. Should be sorry. Me in my rabbit hole. Filled with static metamorphosis. Put the low beat on. Lets dance in caged 2 rooms separated. Cleaning dust from memory bank. Observing pictures. The *you have memories with* function should be considered a crime. Murder. Of lyrical repeal. Pleading the 5th. Marching hand in hand with vendetta. Rubbing of the mask of idealistic expectation one had for me. Everyone want to fuck the naked chick on the side of a performance van. So special, feel so special. Unliveable. Scan the resolve. At least i did not got one pregnant. But perhaps could with my vain pulling needle point pressure tactics. Wrapping self in plastic. Aborting roles and becoming roles given. I shall be IT. The poison one seen in me. 

nomorenomorenomorenomorenomorenomorenomore

Good night and god bless,

Queen Of Disorder, 

Sonia Dietrich 

MESS - ME - SS or Space Odyssey of Oddities on Crack

Perhaps like rehab - I love the mess. The tempting, destructive, torn stocking and thighs filled mess. Me - Ss. Narcissist tendencies. Diseased. Watching city fall under shame, weight of first snow and railroads. Many roles and many parts. Sports. Flashback. Roles and expectations of purity. How far can you bend? 

Lamps on metal wires and flat screens. Pushing word after word. How exciting it is to push self to a boxing match. Four days in. Rumble rumble. Just don't tell the hungry there is water. Turkey games. Space odyssey of oddities on crack. Forgot to take a picture. I love public leftovers. Dancing in circles from five feet to twenty eight. Change the station. I don't know how to denounce myself. In filled cavities of teeth in shrinking rooms. Eyes full of smoke. Light a cigaret and put it your eyeball. Watchers. Watch dogs. Jesus worship with knife in vagina - my trade mark. I solute heresy. Perspective of castes wasted. Interface. Beat of youth and misery so sweet when backwards is forwards and you twist my being around. Land of bulimic joy and Virgin Mary pictures fuck Satanic girls. Touching vaginal wounds - so different from one another - like fingerprint. That one leaves inside. Your inner body is as soft as vomit after a good trip.

Coming from my Mouth. 

Glitter

Words are burning names into flesh. How are you living on. White lines. Fruit and poison. Boredom. Physical loneliness. I wish body would be endless. 

In repetitions - this shit comes and covers the come. New comers and SHIT comers. Comers in shit in comers on pathways where shit should be spread. This is a rotting piano made to of teeth.

Inside the head there is a line up of ten thousand funerals. Vicious. Visceral visualisation of bodies. Make finest express the emptiness of frustration neglected. Two chess peaces sit in corners with open arms in unison - you are totally fucked up - are you? If you put, consider that all the surroundings can be portrayed in one step by a simple chess pack chaos. The game does not exist, it’s the match played without a board in a wooden box. Where black and white exported to the surface - the box is plain inside. 

Burned organs, I am on penicillin  Soon cut inside out. Perhaps, then this will reach desired proportion. I am on HOLD. Adjust your expectation. Press redial. Childlabor and pink leaflets. Cars and flat screens. Closed door community and governmental MENTAL positions with hatred for like minded organs sharing gold stars. This is detention centre with safe doors and bills send to one with a bigger bling. Highest bidder glory holes.

Finding the holy.

 

+++

While driving at back seat of a red light car. The devils cab service, talking about slaughtered 18year olds and flashing red numbers on a dashboard. I consider the options of woods and spirits, surgeries and witchcraft. 

Rain covers rods and landing strips. The light of red and green towards white, where time stops. 

We meet, silently, slowly. Shivering skin and hands. 

Sitting by tables with diluted Jesus blood. Through black suits we

P E A K.

I never knew this language

…

Good Night and God Bless,

Queen of Disorder

Sonia Dietrich