I want to convey how disgusting junk is.
I want to express the filth and clutter in a light so
atrocious that the thought of even the slightest pile is
so vehemently repulsive it would force any whom observe it to cringe in terror.
Junk is a cancer.
Materialism is the catalyst and
we as consumers self-perpetuate the disease.
I want to express how miserable reliance to objects is.
I want to express it in an impossible fashion.
One that is beyond reliance on pen and papers.
Ink and feathers.
Junk yards and grave yards contain
our afterbirth rotting underground.
laying beneath my feet is
the putrid bowel movements of our forefathers.
The malevolent stench of our own misdeeds.
Our own oblivious endeavors for a false sense of satisfaction.
I want to say.
It is all a waste and it will forever continue to be a waste
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