k-s-a- brazier-tompkins
Spiritus ex Machina “I’m Hen-er-y the eighth I am, Hen-er-y the Eighth I am, I am…” I can’t shake the song. Not Evanescence with something dramatic and soul-rending, like “Bring Me to Life.” Nope: Patrick Swayze from Ghost, for God’s sake, singing that horrid doggerel. It was funny in the movie. It’s not funny, Patrick! I’m empty. I’m full. I’m… different. I want desperately to scrub my face with my hands, as though I could scrape the song off with my nails. No face. No hands. No nails. What am I? Like a children’s game. I could weep. Who weeps nowadays anyway? Not me. I can’t. Fuck.
antilang- n-4
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