And the music drums deep in my ears, the giggling storms through my brain, a colorful bullet ripping through layers of skin, skull, useless lumps of flesh.

Scarlet-stained white gloves, neverending laughter and dim lights circling around; I just want to vomit. I want to get off,

you must be this sane to ride.—

Contra-auguste groans his lungs out of his mouth, pirouettes puke out the bits of sanity left inside.

Let the acid run up and burn your flesh,

let it burn your words and spit them out in the form of vomit.

Inhale the smell of rotting mankind, for you are the maggots feeding on it, laugh at your own misery; And if you can’t I’ll be your clown, I’ll stand there to cheer you on.

And I ask is this a joke?

because I’m not laughing.