Writer 5
POV WRITING: THE ARTIST’S THOUGHT PROCESS WHILE CREATING THIS IMAGE.
I’m fucked, really I’d rather be dead,
This Indie band wants their album cover and I haven’t even started it yet.
Haven’t even started a sketch, nothing, zero, zip zilch, nada, none,
The deadline is tomorrow and I haven’t even begun.
Fuck, where do I start to begin forming this art?
Let’s begin with the bands name, they’re called “The Immortal Heart.”
What the fuck, what a stupid name, fuck these idiots,
Fuck their pretentious “Immortal Heart” bullshit, they can’t be serious.
O.K. I’m not getting anywhere, let’s think what do hipsters like?
I think they like tight jeans, irony and the night more than the light,
Or is that Emos. Or wait Screamos? What is the difference,
I don’t care about any of these morons I am feeling indifferent.
But it’s my job, I must finish it, no more procrastination,
Wait I’m feeling horny and my girlfriend is at work, I’ll rub out a quick masturbation.
Then I’ll begin for real. No! Stop you idiot, stop wasting time,
This is your fucking livelihood, this is your 9 to 5.
You depend on word of mouth customers so don’t fuck up,
Just create some bullshit picture for them and then that is enough.
Just draw something, anything decent, nothing less and nothing more,
So let’s think back – what exactly did they ask for?
If I recall it was “Something for the laborer and the common man.”
Common man? What are they some commie band from Commiestan?
O.K. a brilliant idea, let’s go on youtube and listen to their music,
Ahh this one is called “The Pain of Hatred” again they are fucking stupid.
God damn I hate these idiots, I mean listen to the lyrics,
“When The Pain Goes Away All That Is Left Behind Is The Spirit.”
I feel sick, I feel hungry I’ll go make a sandwich and be right back,
I mean how am I supposed to draw while distracted, just a quick snack.
O.K. I’ve got a plan, I’m going to draw something artistic,
Skeletons around the grave of a living person, I gotta channel my inner-autistic.
Let’s see we can draw them standing up and shit, laughing because it’s ironic,
This is just the kind of picture these people will like it’s completely moronic.
Fuck it that’s good enough, wait now I have to color it right?
No Fuck it I’ll leave it like that, tell them it was artistic to draw it black and white.
I’m feeling good about this bullshit, but if they don’t like then really I’m fucked,
I’ll email them the picture and hope that it is decent enough.
Vs
Writer 7
I can hear the silent whispers and see their violent scriptures
Only now I can see a vibrant picture and all my tyrant sisters
The one laughing is Bryant Wibsters, who’s a migrant fixture
He’s always drunk & a lyin tipster, he hated my quiet snickers
The bearded skeletons Father, he was a hellion and a scholar
Dad detested Feltons fodder; Felton’s job had him sellin lager
Felton’s the dwellin mobster; he’s short but still a rebellin boxer
He’s felon & squatter, in all honesty Felton’s a foretellin imposter
Mary and Chuck are both on the far right ready to bury this fuck
Because they both carried bucks like they were married to luck
I worked for Mary and trust that both weren’t scary ass drunks
I was wrong, both were dreary punks, & hated my merry plunge
NOW
I’m finally becoming Alive, HE HAS ARRIVED, I can see Billy
He’s the only human with eyes that are so divine, love just fills me
Now it’s our time, nothings denied and we both will seem filthy
Billy will be my prize, my soul intertwined like our dreams ability
I’m not gross nor dead, I was scorned to outlive any homestead
Life was bones & dread, now I adorn to outlive any of those dead
This coffin feels cold as lead, I’m born again, I lived alone instead
Now I’m warm as a bed, no more death, I owe it to Mama Joaness
She’s the one closest to my casket; she used her potions & magic
She allowed me to be motionless as molasses; I’m HOPIN that’s it
But I feel this hopeless drastic situation turns focused as graphics
My new life will be open and fantastic; Billy is my bonus and habit
Already all my skin has returned, my eyes are new just like my life
I have something to prove, I’ve learned a new disguise & it’s mine
Billy and I are ready to move, our times arrived, now we both shine
So all this death around me is proof, life is asinine unless you TRY!
This story is the truth, keep all this in mind, those around you are fake
Set your own example & rule, because in due time, it’s the life we make
Vs
Writer 2
Purgatory's Most Wanted
How I got to Purgatory!
I was ready locked and loaded with enough weapons to seize war
Grenades, Assault Rifles, Shotguns, and a couple crates packed with C-4
This killing spree will be the greatest of all time as I tumble down this wicked descent
Prepared to murder thousands at disney world's biggest event
My whole crew exits the vehicles, and begins rigging up the bombs
And I give a smirk to all the little children clinging to their moms
Suited up, with our weapons drawn we begin tearing families apart
Shredding bodies, exploding rides.. You can hear the beat of the countries heart
But within due time, I would be caught and killed by america's most profound agents
And became one of the sickest members of purgatory in the making
Purgatory
I wake up viewing just a wooden house and an uncovered horizon
With all kinds of evil characters crazy enough to live on shutter island
Walking next to the likes of Charles Albright, and Benjamin Atkins
and Little Iraqi children trying to deliver every person a package
Ted Bundy and Albert Fish having a feast in the home
Jeffery Dahmer picking the last bit of meat off the bone
And me, one of the most evil beings. This is the perfect wish
I plop my white ass next to the 'son of sam', David Berkowitz
After we ate, I continued to check out my new environment
I realized this was an evil and sickly insane retirement
I saw Dennis Rader and Gary Ridgway out in the back
Charles Mansan and Bin Ladin having a chat
I always thought the devil would punish us in the cruelest way
Even the Zodiac Killer was working with his crew of slaves
This was like heaven to me, but there had to be reason I'm immortal
So I walked up and decided to ask some questions to Dean Corll
Where are we? I thought for my murders I'd end up in satan's basement
"You are! But he keeps us together, the top ranked we are the devil's favorite
We live forever, and get to achieve every evil thing that we deserve
We are here to become the most sinister demons in the universe
This is a school for the insane, those with the most wicked brilliance
We are here to be prepared to become Lucifers' gifted children"
With that said, I continued to learn about my father's earth
To torture the world, possess and cause havoc among gods followers
After some time we were all ready for our departure back into the world
To tear the minds off men, and destroy the hearts of heaven's little girls
The next stage of our lives await, we are lucifers golden staff
So before we depart, Rodney Alcala snaps the greatest class photograph