AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

LOL / FTW
Short info.

Poem about sex.

By Bryan Wegman.

To much in one title above to care.

This one is about a loved-one who has never been happy with himself in the world, and so turned to Christianity as a defense-mechanism and a place to hide within himself, which is a common, self-empowering mistake for people in sick states of mind to pitifully do out of desperation. He uses his faith not only to justify and sanction his illness (what Nietzsche would call his decadence), but uses it also as a weapon. A weapon to spread his disease, a weapon against the world which he is physiologically abortive in, against the flesh which he cannot gratify, and even against the joy of laughter if it is from mockery REMOTELY to do with sexuality! He became a REAL party-pooper. Too bad, so sad; one more person willingly victimized at the depraved hands of Christianity and all the conscience-rape it has to offer a self-loathing, ascetic masochist. Not to mention the reward-aspect of it, which offers so much “divine” gratitude to someone UNABLE to grant himself anything – but denial.

The second journal of the invisible girl is about a stupid boy.

Dead and dying, lay at their feet.