Have you washed the grime from your face today?
No more slime or flakes. Just freshly red scabs that glisten.
I feel reborn.
This world belongs to Kali, you know. The killers. Every day we kill, and then we eat the victims so that we can kill even more, before Kali kills us as well. The Earth is our hunting ground, and we should be proud that Kali favours us so. We may not be perfect in our brains, but we are close. We kill just by handing over money. We kill just by having sex.
Kali is preparing a big feast for us, very soon, in about 50-100 years or so, where she will eat all her children, and we will enter her body and give her nourishment and strength.
Many do not know you yet, Kali, and even when the governments start collapsing around them, they will scream and they will cry and they will beg for gods to come and save them, but I, I will laugh, because you are already here with me. Then, together, we will feast on human flesh, should I live that long. I long to part open the flesh, and feel you enter me like you entered me twenty years ago. Together we will harvest this world, and I will hunt and bring you delicacies. I will bury my face into deep gashes and search for the tastiest spots in a sea of blood.
Sorry. I ramble. Grime free face feels pretty nice, yes.