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And so he took the duct tape, and wrapped the bread knife to his left hand.

The serrated edge could cut through any rope.

It would be useful, if there were any regrets.

And then, he took the duct tape,

And wrapped the gun to his right hand.

It would be useful, if it should've ended sooner.

And he stood upon his chair, His final Throne...

And slid the Noose around his Neck.

He slanted,

From the left, and then to the right.

The chair wobbled,

And the ground shook.

And he wondered,

Will I shoot myself?

Will I cut myself down?

Or, will I hang?

And so he took the duct tape, and wrapped the bread knife to his left hand. The serrated edge could cut through any rope. It would be useful, if there were any regrets. And then, he took the duct tape, And wrapped the gun to his right hand. It would be useful, if it should've ended sooner. And he stood upon his chair, His final Throne... And slid the Noose around his Neck. He slanted, From the left, and then to the right. The chair wobbled, And the ground shook. And he wondered, Will I shoot myself? Will I cut myself down? Or, will I hang?

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[–] • 2 pts (edited )

Art cannot exist without unreconciled pain. This is why the word "catharsis" exists. To paraphrase a smart man, "the most beautiful thoughts are always next to the darkest." If none of us lived a life of suffering, art would not exist. We would stop striving to attain something better; it's as simple as that.

[–] • 2 pts

I'm halfway through writing a book that I will never be able to show to any of my family, because I really don't want them to know how bad my thoughts can get.

[–] • 1 pt (edited )

Well, if you ever finish it: let me know. I'll read it. I do the same thing with music. At one point, you just have to tell yourself: "this is who I am, and this is what I have to offer." I'd rather die having pissed-off a few family members, than die wondering what could have been. As long as my actions were justified and worthy. I wouldn't write a rap album about money and bitches, knowing it would piss off my parents, for example. Living in hypotheticals will always lead to confusion.

[–] • 1 pt

My current rap album, track one:

Money,

Bitches!

Fuck crackers!

Fuck Snitches!

Get Paid!

Get Laid!

AND WHEN SHE CALL THE POLICE,

LYING WHORE GET STITCHES@

(repeat hook 8 times, get someone to make a beat?)