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Breakfast

by Anti-Character

supported by
RevengeOfThePiff
RevengeOfThePiff thumbnail
RevengeOfThePiff I do not remember downloading this, and, looking in a literal mirror of who I was as a kid, I'm happy you look so damned cool. I'm older though, and, even though I can't ever have chlidren (the bangs I had really fucked that up), I like the one song that really hit chords, it honestly helped me see a side of me I wouldn't have, if not for you. So, thanks man. Please release more good times.
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1.
on the topic of car crashes I am given two lives in one the glass is half full etcetera ( that made me hate milk ) the second, I am given two other hands ( full of ifs, ands, buts, etcetera ) god damn, use the epidermis as an airbag and when the seatbelt cuts off all the circulation I'll pray you were real even when this conversation was me, complete
2.
Anti Ant Eye 01:17
i pray to god the burning sensation around your neck is a foreshadowing of events to occur tear each and every fucking tooth from the gums, oh my god and the page turns you didn't let me mean a thing i never meant a fucking thing
3.
this fucking migraine of the open market of relentless shine will dissolve into spit, running down my legs and in between my toes, reflecting the unease the permeates from inside my room, and I just can't fucking hear you. No particular intention, bulldozing the house you grew up in. Moving forward; at least I think I'm moving. In the center of an ulcer, syringe in the middle of nowhere. Aimlessly, I navigate. I do not want to go anywhere until a bomb is strapped onto my face. Five toe polio standoff, holding hands in the Gaza Strip.
4.
Pulling out my hair, I can't bare your endless drone of particular hertz. I've been breaking all my fucking fingers waiting for a slut like WW III. My excuse for grinding my teeth to the roots. Water in my left, soil in my right. Frantic, tuning out the technicalities. Do not turn on the lights, axe to your family tree. Hyperventilating, if this is a means of pressure, my head will blow one way or another. Watching the last of you drift down the drain. Words with no substance, vomit stains on my wrists. Ground teeth to the roots. Papercut, garbage, bullshit. Drift down the drain. Do not fucking touch me. Do not say a thing. Sleep deprived, what day is it? Lying on the floor, eyes on the ceiling. I'll sweat this out until the Fat Man lets me rest again.

about

Just some bullshit.

credits

released February 16, 2014

P-boy and Bizzy

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about

Anti-Character Knoxville, Tennessee

two dudes being whatever

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