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.