Vile: The lyrical vomit of a 14-year-old bastard, a collection of my writings between the ages of 14 and 16.

"I am beyond contempt. I am primitive reprise, an aboriginal futurist, fully grounded in the hearth, yet constantly evolving. You are not like me. You are a borrowed and stolen people. Your smile is opulent; with outstretched hands you flaunt goodwill but you hide a knife behind your back. You are a blank face amongst billions. You are an averaging of extremes, the dullard’s routine. You are petty and pretentious. Fake on the inside and out. You are a walking slogan, a billboard for the elite. They make a merchandise of every ideal and you buy, buy, buy. You are an uninspiring pustule of disease, a conglomerated product of every forgery and prosthetic idea. You are the ephemeral trend. You are the flavor of the day, the transient advertisement. You exist only as the construct of someone else’s mind. I am not like you. Religion, politics, zombies and a shit ton of run on sentences infest these pages."

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