
I tear into this page with terror,
I penetrate my fate with a diabolical pen,
Dip into my thoughts of blood-ink forever with this feather.
I go to work and put on an act,
I hold a girl only to get her in the sack,
I hold my tongue when people talk about me behind my back,
And I’m still crazy inside.
The horror scenes from my street cornered of crimes follow me to sleep,
Will I one day wake up dead?
Steal my pen!
Trouble has a way of stalking me,
Rocking me rapidly, attacking me, grabbing me, flooring me, throwing me, burrow below me,
My writing takes over to cause a supernova,
I’m taking no more of the same boring rota,
So get ready to see what I have become so far…

I’m living forever, I will die as a blogging dead writer; the haze of pipedreams will eat my illumining soul and corrupt naturally my calm nature nastily. I’m flying off the walls as this is coming off my chest, as a child I ate crayons now as an adult I am chewing on the end of my pen, not much has changed. Maybe this writing business is for me, the page is laid out before me, puke. This website is my last stand and my words are my last resort, I catch-a-phrase and head back the way. Fill these pages with shock value to fill those pockets with evil money to enrich that soul full of peace, I need a piece please. I’m losing touch with reality because I’m thinking thoughts; won’t you step into my fantasy world?

I’m done praying for archaic change,
I’m changing lanes faster than I can age in the face,
Where I’ll be in five years?
A writer if it’s my fate, if only I don’t die here.
I only have a glimmer of hope,
A pencil sharpener to butcher words as I go,
I’m simply the best character I have every wrote,
Break my soul apart and turn my words into stone.

Standing in front of this mirror mimicking lip-syncing death-threats to myself, I’m living in a living hell. These pages give me the key to leave hells grip on me, now I will never fail now. This blog is my playground, if you push me, I am swinging! See these words through the world of a wonder. That’s why they call me Alex Kennedy, I write venomously but if you extract the remedy, you will live to see another day. True evil has no gender, so I think I shall wear the crown.

And to all who are down here reading this, yes, all of these pictures are me. I thought it was about time I showed my face. Haha! Alex
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