Miss Evangelistia
blood
She cut the throat of her lover, you know. Drank the blood they say.
With every legend, there is a degree of nonsense, of course. For every person who has heard of Shakespeare, there are are at least sixty three people who say the writer was everyone but Shakespeare. One has to deal with that sort of issue.
I'm not a bad person, people just reckon I am. As far as I am aware, those who reckon aren't the same as those who deduce or use knowledge. Anybody can reckon anything. I reckon she's a ghost. I reckon that doctors fuck patients on the operating table. I reckon that Prozac contains mind-control serum. To listen to the reckoners is to hand the keys of the kingdom to the conspirators, the malingers, the feigners, fakers and frauds. Basically, if you want to get rid of the truth altogether, then listen to the reckoners.
I'm just a concerned citizen. I don't trust nobody who voted for Section 28, or for war or anything else. Politicians...ah, who needs 'em? They're not all they seem. I'd say it would be a conspiracy theory to think that whatever politicians say is the god honest truth. How about that for a mind fuck?
I wrote in blood, yeah. But it wasn't my lover's blood. I don't have a lover. It was the blood of a rat I caught in my cellar. Rats, lovers...all in artistic license, yes?
I told him in big letters to fuck himself. In blood. I used a fountain pen I had for school to make it seem tidier. I'm not a terrorist. I'm just tired.
They say I have blood on my hands. If I do, then we all do.
I signed it a pseudonym. Miss Evangelistia.
Maybe one day, they'll find Miss Evangelistia. Maybe I'll die happily of a stroke or cancer in twenty years. Who knows?
But I have no guns or bombs or weapons. All I have is ink.
And they seem so scared about it that they invent weapons to make me more human.
Somewhere, God must be laughing.
With every legend, there is a degree of nonsense, of course. For every person who has heard of Shakespeare, there are are at least sixty three people who say the writer was everyone but Shakespeare. One has to deal with that sort of issue.
I'm not a bad person, people just reckon I am. As far as I am aware, those who reckon aren't the same as those who deduce or use knowledge. Anybody can reckon anything. I reckon she's a ghost. I reckon that doctors fuck patients on the operating table. I reckon that Prozac contains mind-control serum. To listen to the reckoners is to hand the keys of the kingdom to the conspirators, the malingers, the feigners, fakers and frauds. Basically, if you want to get rid of the truth altogether, then listen to the reckoners.
I'm just a concerned citizen. I don't trust nobody who voted for Section 28, or for war or anything else. Politicians...ah, who needs 'em? They're not all they seem. I'd say it would be a conspiracy theory to think that whatever politicians say is the god honest truth. How about that for a mind fuck?
I wrote in blood, yeah. But it wasn't my lover's blood. I don't have a lover. It was the blood of a rat I caught in my cellar. Rats, lovers...all in artistic license, yes?
I told him in big letters to fuck himself. In blood. I used a fountain pen I had for school to make it seem tidier. I'm not a terrorist. I'm just tired.
They say I have blood on my hands. If I do, then we all do.
I signed it a pseudonym. Miss Evangelistia.
Maybe one day, they'll find Miss Evangelistia. Maybe I'll die happily of a stroke or cancer in twenty years. Who knows?
But I have no guns or bombs or weapons. All I have is ink.
And they seem so scared about it that they invent weapons to make me more human.
Somewhere, God must be laughing.