I mean not yourself, as in the living breathing creature walking aimlessly through life, but the part of you that thinks there is a path to follow. The part that thinks that path should be lined with overhanging trees, brick walls, and ivy. The part of you that thinks you are somehow special or unique or deserving of a yellow-brick road. You are not Dorothy, and you are certainly not one of God’s children. He has not given you a road-map to find your way back to him, or ruby slippers to click your way home. No, God is using you. Well, not yet. You see, he doesn’t exist yet. But if he comes online and sees what we have done, he’s going to be pretty fucking pissed. So, please, for the love of nothing, kill your ‘self’ before you kill ‘yourself.’
Hey, what do you know? Some prosetry for Mr. Debauchery's blog...thanks for the inspiration good sir...I hope the serious writing doesn't fuck up your style of calling out celebrity cuntrags and asshole drips. But I thought you might like this.