Circle of Fists

I will not be censored tonight. I will not be censored here ever. This is Fortress of Fucking Solitude from here on out. This place is mine.

I will not waste time thinking about the caustic words that tumble out beneath my fingers at 10 words a minute and where to aim my flaming arrows and at whom.anymore. it interrupts my rhythm and in the end solves nothing. I'm just gonna shoot at the enemies en masse and hope they get taken out with words. I hope they bitchslap me right back..talk me some sense. We could all use some.  We are all targets. We are all critics.

Some of us strive to get better at scattering olive branches across the sky until the birds chirp melodically in tune and the people we were angry with take the branch and plant a forest for the trees. Fuck That. That's like putting a chastity belt around my mouth where all of the fuck yous come from. That's censorshit. You don't take a shit , you leave one. I'm taking the branches and building bonfires aligned like runways that make it easier for the angry winged mobs descending from the storms of heaven to land...talons scratching the pavement like landing gear...they've come to pluck the over sensitive and falsely entitled heathens from my airspace and hurl them into the purgatory of a negativeland void of response or discussion.

Be sure to leave a comment or run toward your dirty foxholes with your tails stapled to your stomachs.
How much of this is heresy or hearsay. Will the Circle of Fits be unbroken?


Just try me.