Ennui

Personally, I'm more than a little disillusioned with Castration. I've used it numerous times as a literary Device, and it seems to have lost its punch. I'm sure it isn't the last taboo; no doubt there are Endless avenues of violence and depravity for me to Explore. I've done child molestation, President-fucking, golden showers – in fact, I believe I helped popularize the phrase "I'd rather Be pissed on than pissed off"! I've written about mass suicides, Mass murders, and God help me, Christian masses. I have blasphemed heinously – although, I admit, not nearly as heinously as any major religion, Try as I might. Some of the shit I've done with shit Would make your shit turn green. I've played with and eaten my own vomit. I have fucked your father's corpse in every available Orifice and have punched out a few new ones, And there's not a fucking thing you can do about it, And tomorrow I'll do it again. I've done bad things with relish, And good things with pickles. I regret nothing, I apologize for nothing – but it Is all so appallingly pedestrian, And none of it thrills or shocks me anymore. It is so sad. So maybe I should just go back to the Flowers and the bunnies and the sunshine and whatnot.