Syntactic argumentation

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Over and over again
And again. Again.
What have been repeated for centuries
In my brains.

A lack of vocation
That hurts my feelings
And my patience.
-Over and over again-
Grammar is rediscovered
Boring as ever.
Boring to death.
Bored to death.

Actually, more dead
Than any other thing.
This is another thing.
That’s KNOWthing.

As full as a noisy breath
In the middle of a graveyard
In the middle of a zombie party.
A child vomiting his lunch,
Vomiting his lesson,
Beating our minds with the greatness
Of his ideas.
I can read and write.
I could do it before you could even cry.

How intelligent I am.
I do not need competence.
I don’t want it.

I don’t need happier people
While I die in misery.
I want them all dead.
I’m no t that bad.
I’ll just kill their souls,
Let their brains strave,
Also their ambitions.
They won’t even notice.
Those silly zombies,
Sex-addicts, fuck-lovers,

I’ll build up my name
And I’ll keep it
Over them.
My name.
They’ll respect it for its own sake.
My name.

But what is a name?
What hides behind?
What is it?
You’ll never find it out in a classroom,
Neither outside it.

You already know it.

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