Graffiti Wall
Graffiti Wall Rules
- In the text field below are 100 of the previous person's words.
- You may edit them as you like, or delete them, or add your own words to them.
- When you click the "Go!" button, there may only be 250 words total in the text field.
- If you exceed 250 words, changes will NOT be saved.
- Yes! Your additions may be altered or deleted by someone else and you may change or delete other's additions. That is the game...
Words: 0
And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom. We don't see things as they are, we see things as we are. When you make a world tolerable for yourself, you make a world tolerable for others. Life is a process of becoming, a combination of states we have to go through. Where people fail is that they wish to elect a state and remain in it. This is a kind of death. Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage. Anxiety is love's greatest killer.although i never really
had a look in
clue how to make a loud noise i could always wait between
until eveyone was sleeping and turn heads with the lines
silence and a stolen hour, because
because nobody else was up that
this late. doesn't it seem stupid now, to continue lying? everything seems stupid when it is your only text
compliment. never stroke a bag of
is , dont wash your face with foot clothes, but comfort stupid. its not his fault. abused
stupid always makes the loudest noise.
In little con-tiguous jerks, the sequences are en(k)oined, induced, glide in (silence). No(n) category(s) outside the text should allow defining the form or bearing of the pas(t)ages of these trances of writing
There are always only se(x)flores, from paragraph to paragraph, (so much so that)
anthological excerpts inflict only
the violence necessary to attach im- a paraph is the
portance to the remain(s). Take in- abbrviation of a para
to account the overlap-effects, and graph: what is writen
you will see that the tissue cease- on the side, in the
lessly reforms itself around a cut. margin (glas, p.25)
This text, each text, weaves iself into the mesh.
Each author a god, and each reader a worship.
Then again, even history comes around again, to
feed into the expanding loop.
although i never really
had a look in
clue how to make a loud noise i could always wait between
until eveyone was sleeping and turn heads with the lines
silence and a stolen hour, because
because nobody else was up that
this late. doesn't it seem stupid now, to continue lying? everything seems stupid when it is your only text
compliment. never stroke a bag of
is , dont wash your face with foot clothes, but comfort stupid. its not his fault. abused
stupid always makes the loudest noise.
In little con-tenuous jerks, the sequences are enjoined, induced, glide in (silence). No category outside the text should allow defining the form or bearing of the passages of these trances of writing
There are always only se(x)tions, from paragraph to paragraph, (so much so that)
anthological excerpts inflict only
the violence necessary to attach im- a paraph is the
portance to the remain(s). Take in- abbrviation of a para
to account the overlap-effects, and graph: what is writen
you will see that the tissue cease- on the side, in the
lessly reforms itself around a cut. margin (glas, p.25)
This text, each text, weaves iself into the mesh.
Each author a god, and each reader a worship.
And little changes flex their intelligibility.
And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom. We don't see things as they are, we see things as we are. When you make a world tolerable for yourself, you make a world tolerable for others. Life is a process of becoming, a combination of states we have to go through. Where people fail is that they wish to elect a state and remain in it. This is a kind of death. Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage. Anxiety is love's greatest killer.
Chapter 12: the long drive
by Mushu
You let your fingers do the walking. Soon you arrive at the right page and call the number shown. It is no longer in service. The phone book is twenty years old. You dial information and ask for the number to Little Panda. You are informed that they went out of business two months ago, and moved to a neighboring town. You get the updated number, and call for your delivery order. You are informed that you are apparently out of delivery range and you'll have to go pick it up. You grumble as you climb into your dead mothers suburban and head off for your chinese food. You run over four stray cats, a puppy, and a komodo dragon along the way. You share your adventure with the clerk at the resturant. You are beaten up by the chefs for not having brought these items with you. You grumble as you climb back into the suburban and return to the places in the road where you hit them and retrieve them. Upon returning to the resturant, you are greeted joyously and rewarded with the family's first born daughter. She is beautiful and intelligent and you are married at once. On your honeymoon, it is regrettably revealed that your new wife's is too shallow and you sadly leave her.
Chapter 12: the marvelous journey
by Mushu.
You head off to your nearest travel agent and prepare for your journey. You are offered various discount rates on first class packages which you politely decline. Finally, you have your ticket and a good book to read while waiting around at the airport. You walk nervously through metal detectors that require you to remove your prosthetic forehead. You board your plane and are lifted high into the air. You chuckle to yourself whilst daydreaming of dropping waterballoons onto the ocean. Finally you arrive in your homeland and give your grandmother a great big hug. She is so happy to see you, and immediately gives you something to eat. You listen attentively to all the stories your relatives have to tell you. You don't have much to offer in that regard because you don't really speak chinese, but you'll learn soon. Meanwhile, you appreciate all the wonderful food and help yourself to hearty second and third helpings.
Chapter 6: the stroll
by Mushu
Strolling down the boulevard, hand in hand, in the direction of some alleged bowling alley somewhere in the distance, you converse casually with the nice old lady.
"So what was that all about back there, if I might ask, dear?"
"Oh, nothing, just having a crazy day, you know how it is. Old man was cock-teased by the secretary at work again, came home all grumpy and taking it out on me, had to make a scene in view of the rest of the neighborhood, yada yada yada."
"You're right. Stupid question. Say, why don't we scratch the bowling idea. Cops'll be there staking out for you I'm sure. Do you like baklava? It's on special at the bakery today. Here, put on this football uniform so no one will recognize you."
"Ooh, splendid idea! Yes of course, then we must go to the subway and listen to ol' Sebastian's blues harp! He'll be there for the 8:00 B train crowd. Then we can go dumpster diving for computer hardware!"
"Let's stop by the courthouse and change our names while we're at it, just for fun. I got my vacation bonus today."
"Oh joy!"
Suddenly you hear ice cream bells a couple blocks over.
Chapter 7: the letter
Chapter 8: studies in auyurvedic medicine
by Mushu
You kick her and run, but are lassooed by a homebrewed brick yoyo. You would throw your hands up in despair, but they are wound up and bound tight in goosetongue. In a desperate last ditch attempt to preserve your hidden animosity, you... um...
pee! Yeah, you pee. But alas, your pee is to no avail and you fall into the irresistable arms of the witch and are married at once. As it turns out, she's really a great gal who just ran into some bad luck that week, and needed someone who cared. You help her clean and make repairs on the house which you soon sell to a paranormal research team from Berkley. The house is apparently very interesting to them, and you recieve a very fair price for it which allows the two of you to settle down in that quiet fishing village the both of you always dreamed about.
So one day, you're lounging together lazily, in your little rowboat, catching fish and the usual thing, when you hear, in the distance, somewhere towards the shore, what seems to be the sound of two children calling for help. You're not sure if you're awake or asleep. The voices sound familiar.. like your children, perhaps. Maybe they are mermaids.
by Mushu
Dear anonymous#2,
The last few weeks have been really really hot. The thermostat is broken or something, I don't know. I wake up all sweaty and delerious. I cant stand it. I cant live in this stinking apartment with you anymore. I go to use the bath and the tub is filled with frogs. What the heck is going on in there? I don't even want to know. You're probably having some kind of bizarre kinky two-time relationship while I'm at my manicure. You used to wake me up with breakfast. What happened to you John? erm, I mean, anonymous#2? We never talk anymore. Maybe another time. I don't know. I have to go now.
Love, Mushu
Chapter 7: whats all this then?
by Mushu
You return to the spot where the pile of photographs lay and begin your studious rummage. To your bewilderment, you discover that every photograph is a crude close up voyeur shot of your own butt, captured at various locations and dates over the years, some while you were with lovers in places you thought were private. How could this have happened? Do you care? The freak is dead now, right? As it is, the matches happen to be in your pocket and you strike one and toss it onto the pile of photographs of your butt. Suddenly, you hear a loud scream, and at first you are startled to imagine that your cut-up job on the woman was less than successful, but then you realize the origin of the scream is a tiny green caterpillar crawling on your butt.
Chapter 10: take a break
by Mushu
Your ears are suddenly filled with the terrifying scream of really bad classic rock. You slam the snooze button with your fist. The atrocious clasic rock continues to blare. You pick the clock up and whip it into the wall. It shatters to bits. Your vegan girlfriend enters the room with a bowl of lentils, and some pineapple juice. You break wind. Your girlfriend snorts and breaks the bowl of lentils, and the glass of pineapple juice. Today is Break Everything Day. Your apartment is full of people celebrating. They're breaking everything in your apartment. You break several noses before you see the calendar and remember what day it is. You break down in tears when you realize you've hurt your friends. What do you do now?
1.you break your cousin out of prison
2.you breakdance
Chapter 11: lets dance
by Mushu
You start with some baby swips. You do the wave and the caterpillar. You go into a headspin and break your neck. Just kidding you're doing fine. The audience cheers. The ladies throw roses on your cardboard strips. You devour them hungrily. You breakdance some more. You nreakdance til the break of dawn. Now you're really hungry. It's time for Chinese food. What do you do now?
Chapter 5: the argument
by Mushu
"Hey lady, like, what's your problem?!" You say.
"You spelled Senile incorrectly," she replies, "and that really drives me nuts."
"Umm.... right... why don't you get some sense of you own and GET A LIFE?"
"I don't have any sense!" she cynically retorts. "Got plenty of SENCE, tho, whatever THAT is! And how bout making up your mind and telling me if I own or if I need to get a life? Which is it? Or are you just going to stand there talking to yourself like an idiot on my property? Why don't you go to YOUR house and do that ? Yeah, hey, why don't you just mind your business?"
"Hey lady, get a grip. This IS my house. Your house is way over there. The one with the dead man and the gas-drenched ...whatever. Look, I don't have time to argue with you. I ran away from you for a reason, now get the hell away from me."
"Do you have time to take a short survey?"
"NO!"
"I like you. Can I hold your hand?"
"OMG! Fine!"
You hold her hand.
"Happy now?"
"....let's go bowling."
Chapter 8: yuck
by Mushu
A spiraling black void appears before you where the burning buttpile once lay. "This must be the rabbit hole!" You say to yourself, bemusedly. You take several steps back to get a running start. You take the plunge. To your dismay, the black swirly spot is not a rabbit hole. It's just the opening to the septic tank. You are now sloshing around in septic sludge. I guess this is the just the kind of situation one gets in after committing matricide. Oh well.
Chapter 6: bogus rhythm
by Mushu
"I am Torrance." you say. "Rhymes with Orange."
"Torrance does NOT rhyme with orange!!!" The police operater replies, angrily, and hangs up.
Chapter 9: the creature
by Mushu
You swoop the arm like a golf club. When the arm swings back up again, a beautiful giant snow crab comes into view. When was the last time to had an opportunity like this? What do you do now?
quick, run to the kitchen and put it on the boil. nothing is more delicious than snowcrab.
quick, put some lee wiley on the phonograph, no one slowdances better than snowcrab
Chapter 9: The THING!
by Mushu
"Heh. Well look at me," you say to the librarian, jokingly, "I'm young and in my prime... If you're giving me a choice between the history of Yemen, and LIPS, what do you EXPECT I'm gonna check out?"
"Please be quiet and sweep my floor" The librarian says with a faint smirk. A juvenile voice is heard cackling somewhere in the near distance.
As you continue with your maintenence duties, you notice a shiny object falls into the path of your broom.
Chapter 7: i scream you scream,
by Mushu
You make a run for it. You can tell by the sound it's one of those old fashioned good-humour vehicles, you can't pass up a rare opportunity like this one. You buy two double-swirls on sugarcones and the slap them over the drivers eyes and push him out of the truck. You turn off the bells and peel off towards where you left your old friend. Now you're both in the vehicle together, careening down the freeway, laughing and singing and having the time of your life.
Chapter 6: the thing in her hand..
by Mushu
"It's my magic umbrella!" she says, and flies into the air, singing a really irritating song. You clasp your hands over your ears in agony. "Lalalala!!!" You shout, to drown out the atrocious noise. "What's the matter?" She says, "Have a headache? An Earache?" She produces a medicine bottle and beings singing yet another peircingly aggravating song "AAAARRRGGHH!!! I CANT STAND IT!!" You scream. You ignite the match yourself, and burst into flames
Never-Ending Story
Chapter 6: Trick or Treat
by Mushu
The door opens and an army of orangutans in giant bowling shoes pour out of the house and pile into hot air balloons. You chase after them because you love orangutans and you want to live with them forever in peace and harmony on paradise earth. As you float away in the hot air baloon full of orangutans, you realize you absolutely have to tell your cousin about this so you reach into your pocket for your shellphone. You hold it up to your ear and begin to speak in holy ancient tongues.
split; certain; water; earth; air; fire; caught in a combustion; fluid by way of pressure; solid by way of electrical storm; a beast; civilized slave; brave pawn
dead-alive; something floating in the water; flouride and
\the CIA; there must be some authenticity here; aqui
where h\ave all the flowers gone?; who holds the bullet?;
who bi\tes with teeth?; who eats la alma?; who? -(REMA
IN ANON, it'\s more keeping with 'graffiti,' else use a SY
MBOL(hija de p\uta!) my symbol is my work; my work is my s
ymbol)
\
:
- s\ays the syllabicfish - the babel fish (
portugues a ingles.\)
\
\
E the day came when the risk to remain firmly in one bud was more painful of the one than the risk that made examination to the flower. We do not see things while they are, we we see things while we are. When you tolerable for yourself makes a world, you makes a world tolerable for another one. The life is a process to become, a combination of the states that we have that to go completely. Where the imperfection of the peoples is that they desire to choose a state and to remain in it. This is a type of the death. The life shrinks or expands in ratio one's courage. The anxiety is the assassin greatest of love even so i never really
had a look in
clue as to make a noise that high I could always wait eveyone of between
until it was sleeping and the heads of the return with lines
silence and one stolen hour, because
because nobody that
this age more above of afternoon does not seem stupid now, to continue meeting? everything seems stupid when course of text
compliment. is its only never the one excrement of the bag of
is, it does not wash its face with clothes of the foot, but comfort stupid. its its imperfection abused
stupid always does not make the highest noise. In small contiguous pushes, the sequences are en(k)oined, induced, slip inside ( silence ). Category(s of No(n) ) is of the text must reserve to define the form or to load of pas(t)ages of these you tress of writing
There is always se(x)flores, of the paragraph to the anthological paragraph, (thus very in way that) excerpts inflict only the violence necessary to only join im- that one paraph is portance to remain(s). It makes examination in abbrviation of a paragraph to explain the sobrepo-effect, and graph: what he is writen will see it that the fabric ceases in the side, in retires lessly around an edge of the cut
por dios, some original thought!
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"... of the fosssilied entombment was ransackled; and the snorkacks of the township were lost."
And so at last the Cow found the pasture; and lo, he mooed with contentment at the sight of the happy times ahead. We are as gods; we dance in cheap bedsheet togas through flowers that make us sneeze. Sneezes are mystical... we were all sneezed out of God's left nostril.
Beware the Coming of the Great White Handkerchief.
A wipe by any other name would still collect much snot.
Tons=snot. Live=evil. Otto=otto. So...
"So many dynamos"="somanyd ynam oS"
Blah blah blah...
Man - mACHINE
MaCHINE
MAcHINE
MAChINE
MACHiNE
MACHInE
MACHINe
the grinding cogs and wheels of the mad lover
who is that daunting young dope fiend
your illusions in perhaps saving her
peeled you like an orange
and now, bare and succulent, you permit her to eat you
-pd_writer
their is no such thing as salvation.
there is no god and no safety net,
we are meat and bone,
blood and gristle. we some-times have
the chance to commune with each other,
little mad moths flit
about the flame of a dark star.
each hoping for an orchid,
or at least
a predatory glance.
- i_nietzsche
I adore Bri from Australia. That's enough to fill all the walls of every damn stupid internet gimmick site the world over, but the damnable thing is, our love may never know requite. And that fills me with dread and apathy of a sort that only those who listen to magpies singing ing the near twilight may ever hope to understand.
Overly fawning? perhaps. But life is like that.
And it goes on.....wondering about itself.
Come with me. When I leave this place, come with me.
What a harsh thing. To feel so helpless to the heart, your body betraying your mind. Such a hurtful organ, blind to any need but it's own. Inviting that slow ache. Hated muscle, most needed, most scarred. And the only thing it's good for is being alive.
But it ennobles us to feel that suffering.
I don't care whether you're 12 or 87, the suffering one endures for the sake of the other is what defines us as human. I would love to come with you, but I'm unsure what destination you intend...
Nonetheless, I think you meant that I should allow you to carry me in your heart, that thing which you make slurs against. On one hand you invite suffering, (Love, Passion, etc.) yet with the same mouth defame and eschew it.
Our mind should be in accord, and yet your mind is split.
Allow us to be of one thought.
And that thought may germinate as it wishes.
Do not hinder it.
Profess!
Penguins love to kiss.
michael says:
it's kooky
bri says:
heee
bri says:
penguins love to kiss
michael says:
you're reticent still.
michael says:
oh well.
bri says:
i like the poem engine
bri says:
what?
bri says:
reticent how?
michael says:
oh jeez
michael says:
you're guard is up
bri says:
no
bri says:
not at all
michael says:
ok then
bri says:
why did you say that?
michael says:
because of what you wrote
michael says:
and what we tried to create
michael says:
and what I responded
michael says:
and so on
michael says:
too much too fast too soon.
michael says:
I'm sorry.
bri says:
it's ok
bri says:
but that was just kind of out of left field
bri says:
i just checked it
bri says:
saw "penguins love to kiss" and was amused
michael says:
rihgt
michael says:
I mean: correct.
michael says:
I stand corrected, right?
michael says:
er em.
bri says:
i don't know what you want from me
michael says:
haha!
michael says:
yey!
michael says:
tha'ss it.
bri says:
will you stop it?
michael says:
stop it?
bri says:
you're being intentionally hurtful
michael says:
oh no
michael says:
no no no
michael says:
I'm not
bri says:
what are you doing then?
michael says:
I'm kind of...
michael says:
reaching out a bit to you.
michael says:
hopeing you'll confirm in some small gesture that you like me.
michael says:
that's ALL
michael says:
no biggie
michael says:
I like to hear it
michael says:
it's a neediness issue.
michael says:
lol
bri says:
I LIKE YOU for gods sake
michael says:
poor you, though...lol
bri says:
i've told you that
michael says:
ok
michael says:
mybad my BAD.
bri says:
don't do that
michael says:
eek
michael says:
did I offend ya?
michael says:
just by being a little obtuse?
michael says:
I'm sorry
michael says:
I'm like you, though....I'm sure you recognize your own?
michael says:
don't we BOTH sort of use words as geurilla warfare territories?
michael says:
isn't that the way we are?
co-workers are being very childish about shelving. they're trying to force a new worker to shelve books in a certain area by racing to shelve all but that one area before she comes to work.
yeah.
makes me wonder what they say about me when i'm not around.
dianne has finally made her way up here. a steady drizzle now. looks liek no lawn mowing. could have got it done last night, but i was waiting for the phone call that never came. i'll try again with the call tonight after work.
Link give 'em some love
nasty phase (Jul. 13th, 2005|12:11 pm)
misfitina
( At this moment, I feel very: | ms pacman herself! )
( Music I'm lovin': | robby rivers )
i'm going through a phase that when i'm idle or lonely i want to go eat something really bad for me. it's a form of self-abuse that i've been okay to disconnect since April. I'm not unhappy, so what is the deal?
Link give 'em some love
Ok, I Get It! (Jul. 13th, 2005|11:11 am)
lethebasii
(Tags | , , astrology )
( At this moment, I feel very: | thought-filled )
( Music I'm lovin': | Ministry - Land of Rape and Honey )
my horoscope for today:
Provocation
Today you feel full of energy, decisive, maybe even belligerent and possibly also ruthless. The physical drive also makes itself clearly felt. At the same time it is possible that you hurt yourself and others when it comes to arguments with people who are very close to you - a good friend or, of course, your partner if you are in a relationship. As a result of your current, possibly somewhat more self-confident and demanding style, you may unintentionally hurt and provoke your counterpart into delivering a blow below the belt. For this reason, you should now make a conscious effort to be especially careful to respect the feelings and sensitivities of others.
so lately all my horoscopes have been about not arguing with people, not being mean or asserting myself at the expense of others.
so does that make any sense in light of my supposed long-term influences:
"Beliefs and ideas" (Mars in the 9th House)
"Easy come, easy go" (Jupiter Sextile Neptune)
"Intelligent plans" (Jupiter Trine Mercury)
maybe i'm to have beliefs and ideas, but not express them?
i'm feeling a bit cowed i guess, and listening to some totally brainwashed idiots on the radio morning show today didn't help.
no less than 8 people called in and said that President Bush was "born and raised" in Texas. it blew my mind that so many people believed the status quo crap the executive branch only nudges people to believe. they've never even come out and full frontal lied about such a thing. assumptions will kill your brain!
it just made me realize all the more that in the future the power will be held by those that control the information.
it's part of my job in this world to make sure the information isn't controlled by only one person or group of people.
ah, the long held credo of the internet: information should be free.
so much for me shutting up.
occasionally i am all to enamoured of tempting "fate".
Backstage at Live8 Ricky Gervais was at the side of the stage. Paris Hilton walked up to him and said how much she liked his stuff.
Ricky: "Have we met before?"
Paris "Yes. I'm Paris Hilton"
Ricky "Oh, sorry Paris, I didn't recognise you without a cock in your mouth."
Subsequent discussions followed, but I can't stop the nagging admiration of Ricky's wit and candidness. I need a good Ricky icon.
In other news.. i have been alarmed by how militaristic my approaches to internal and external concerns have been lately. I remember Ms. Magazine having a wonderful article in 2002 (i think?) about this trend with people purchasing hummers and the language in media, etc. I have to consider if i've accepted this approach and if its contradicting other fundamental beliefs. There is no peace when there's a war within and a war without which are neverending.
Link 6 kisses|give 'em some love
30 daze (Jul. 13th, 2005|10:45 am)
magpiegeese
Link give 'em some love
the perfect day... (Jul. 13th, 2005|10:37 am)
misfitina
( At this moment, I feel very: | here )
( Music I'm lovin': | Faith No More )
The rain started on my way in, but i wore sandals anyway- i like to feel the dirty water on my toes. My Mona Lisa umbrella is less stylish as stripes of it have faded after being in the back window of the car. It's supposed to rain for a few days, the upwind remnants of Dennis, but the "meteorologists" keep changing that, pushing it back as the momentum dies. It's a thin grey sky, though, and warm. I imagine going for coffee or maybe a fruity beverage maybe with a friend, some friends or alone.. do chat about politics, philosophy, ideas, or maybe just write down the fragments of my overworking mind or try to calm down and read so that lines don't blur or jump. away. But, i'm here, and a tad lonely.
Sometimes loneliness is like a Ms. Pacman gobbling up hours, days, years and every ghost of a chance for happiness.
I'm sharing this essay because it's well written and i'm suprised someone so young can put 3 words together, let alone this peice.
NEW ATTITUDES
Ignorance, terrorism go hand in hand
By SUSAN FANG
Published on: 07
12
05
I spent three hours Thursday watching CNN and wondering what was going on because everything looked unreal. I wish it was unreal. How did we get here? What did we do to drive these lunatics to commit such a horrendous crime and to feel justified in doing so?
We lie. We lie with our politicians leading the way. We lie to our sons when we send them to fight the wars that other people started. We lie when we say "till death parts us, we shall be one." We lie when we love and when we hate. We lie when we pray to an in-existent God. We lie about Santa Claus to all those hopeful children. We lie when we think that we're better than everybody else. We lie when we say "amerika is number one." We lie, pretending to be nice while we beat our children. We lie when we smile. We lie when we touch. We touch our lies, trying to find the broken edges of someone else's cool indifference. We lie even while we are lying, trying to believe in honesty and decency. We lie while we watch television. We lie when we believe lies. We lie when we manufacture truth.
But it is in silence that we lie most of all.
Everyone has a terminal case of life. The thread shortens every day. Each sunrise, each blossom, each thought...so many grains of sand...
A wipe by any other name would still collect much snot.
Tons=snot. Live=evil. Otto=otto. So...
"So many dynamos"="somanyd ynam oS"
Blah blah blah...
there is no such thing as salvation.
there is no god and no safety net,
we are meat and bone,
blood and gristle. we some-times have
the chance to commune with each other,
little mad moths flit
about the flame of a dark star.
each hoping for an orchid,
or at least
a predatory glance.
- i_nietzsche
I laugh at your pathetic "unrequited" love.
Quit it already.
You're both ing other people anyway.
You think that you're smart enough to get away with stolen kisses and cheap liquor.
You think you deserve some affection...
Jerking off in the corner of a crowded restaurant is worth more than all the unrequited love in Australia and Amerika combined.
We lie. We lie with our politicians leading the way. We lie to our sons when we send them to fight the wars that other people started. We lie when we say "till death parts us, we shall be one." We lie when we love and when we hate. We lie when we pray to an in-existent God. We lie about Santa Claus to all those hopeful children. We lie when we think that we're better than everybody else. We lie when we say "amerika is number one." We lie, pretending to be nice while we beat our children. We lie when we smile. We lie when we touch. We touch our lies, trying to find the broken edges of someone else's cool indifference. We lie even while we are lying, trying to believe in honesty and decency. We lie while we watch television. We lie when we believe lies. We lie when we manufacture truth.
But it is in silence that we lie most of all.
Everyone has a terminal case of life. The thread shortens every day. Each sunrise, each blossom, each thought...so many grains of sand...
We lie. We lie with our politicians leading the way. We lie to our sons when we send them to fight the wars that other people started. We lie when we say "till death parts us, we shall be one." We lie when we love and when we hate. We lie when we pray to an in-existent God. We lie about Santa Claus to all those hopeful children. We lie when we think that we're better than everybody else. We lie when we say "amerika is number one." We lie, pretending to be nice while we beat our children. We lie when we smile. We lie when we touch. We touch our lies, trying to find the broken edges of someone else's cool indifference. We lie even while we are lying, trying to believe in honesty and decency. We lie while we watch television. We lie when we believe lies. We lie when we manufacture truth.
But it is in silence that we lie most of all.
Everyone has a terminal case of life. The thread shortens every day. Each sunrise, each blossom, each thought...so many grains of sand...
We lie. We lie with our politicians leading the way. We lie to our sons when we send them to fight the wars that other people started. We lie when we say "till death parts us, we shall be one." We lie when we love and when we hate. We lie when we pray to an in-existent God. We lie about Santa Claus to all those hopeful children. We lie when we think that we're better than everybody else. We lie when we say "amerika is number one." We lie, pretending to be nice while we beat our children. We lie when we smile. We lie when we touch. We touch our lies, trying to find the broken edges of someone else's cool indifference. We lie even while we are lying, trying to believe in honesty and decency. We lie while we watch television. We lie when we believe lies. We lie when we manufacture truth.
The only negligible thing is a vapid mind
who in turn would not know the meaning
of the word
anyway,
making it even the more negligible
to those who know the language.
i_medea
De todas maneras, lo que importa es que cuando consigues a alguien, alguien que te aguante toda la mierda que puedes producir, todo el odio, el rencor, las ansias... todo lo negativo que creas simplemente por el hecho de ser humano y de tener un pasado... cuando consigues a alguien que no solo lo tolere en silencio, si no que tambien desean ayudarte a hacer de tripas corazones, y a hacer de mierda una estatua, al tener a esa persona la importancia de la vida te mira directamente en la cara y te reta.
Te reta a aprender como amar.
Ahi se encuentra el secreto de la vida, el poder, la fuerza, la piedra de Krypton. Ahi, por ende, es donde el humano falla con mas frequencia. En saber tener, admirar, y hacer tesoro de lo que han encontrado en esa persona. Es muy facil el seguir viviendo igual. Seguir con miedo, con falta de confianza, sin saber como tener fe en otras cosas y confiar en otras personas. Es demasiado facil seguir haciendo montanas de mierda y cabellos de previos amantes.
Ahora es el momento de convertirte en hombre, o en mujer.
Ahora es el momento de despertar de el calido abrazo de la insensatez y la angustia.
Ahora te abres, hombre o mujer, y dejas que te lo metan todo, hasta lo mas profundo de el alma, que te conquisten y te violen con su persona, y tu en turno haras lo mismo, y asi, algun dia, tendras tu pareja del alma, tu companero en las edades, el amor de fabula y cuentos de la ninez.
Henry encuentra a su Anais, Medea no es destruida por Jose, y los locos cantan de felicidad con todo y que saben que no tienen sentido ni razon.
yo_medea
Of all ways, which matters is that when you obtain somebody, somebody that holds all the excrement to you that you can produce, all hatred, the resentment, the anxieties... all the negative that you create simply by the fact of being human and to have a past... when you obtain to that nonsingle it tolerates it in silence, if not which also they wish ayudarte to make of guts hearts, and to make of excrement a statue, when having to that person the importance of the life watches to you directly in the face and it challenges to you. It challenges to you to learn like loving. Ahi is the secret of the life, the power, the force, the stone of Krypton. Ahi, therefore, is where the human fault with but frequencia. In knowing how to have, to admire, and to make treasure of which they have found in that person. He is very facil equal continuing living. To follow with fear, lack of confidence, without knowing like having faith in other things and to trust other people. He is too facil to continue making of excrement and hair of previous lovers montanas. Now it is the moment of convertirte in man, or woman. Now it is the moment for waking up of the warm hug of the folly and the anguish. Now you open yourself, man or woman, and leave put you everything, until but the deep thing of the soul, that they conquer to you and they violate to you with its person, and your in turn haras the same, and asi, algun day, tendras your pair of the soul, your companero in the ages, the love of fabula and stories of the ninez. Henry finds to his Anais, Medea is not destroyed by Jose, and the crazy people sing yet of happiness and who know that they do not have sense nor reason.
I don't know what it is that I expect when I come here.
All that is being encouraged is spam.
Noone respects the space within this box.
It's like everyone is playing
"who can erase this the fastest".
I don't understand incompetance.
.
How can one heal from
unacknowledged pain?
How can one heal a healer?
How does regeneration work?
***One digs deep and picks themselves up by their bootstraps. One regenerates by alienating oneself from degenerates and their action types. Then you find things to hang on to and you grow. A little dirt, a little water, a little smile and the world goes on growing, evolving, regenerating, spawning, increasing. You've got to believe in _something_ in order to make it through. Try to be smart about it and believe in joyful things, and not just in death and taxes. There are still worthwhile people and pursuits out there. Latch yourself onto one, water it every day, nurture it, and off you go, a proud little bamboo shoot of your own.***
A Select Collection of Inspirational Character Quotations
John Lord Morley: Inspirational Character Quotations
No man can climb out beyond the limitations of his own character.
Henry Ward Beecher: Inspirational Character Quotations
No man can tell whether he is rich or poor by turning to his ledger. It is the heart that makes a man rich. He is rich according to what he is, not according to what he has.
Napoleon Hill: Inspirational Character Quotations
No one can make you jealous, angry, vengeful, or greedy - unless you let him.
William Penn: Inspirational Character Quotations
No pain, no palm; no thorns, no throne; no gall, no glory; no cross, no crown.
Henry Clary: Inspirational Character Quotations
Of all the properties which belong to honorable men, not one is so highly prized as that of character.
Vincent Lombardi: Inspirational Character Quotations
Once you learn to quit, it becomes a habit.
Mahatma Gandhi: Inspirational Character Quotations
One man cannot do right in one department of life whilst he is occupied in doing wrong in any other department. Life is one indivisible whole.
Andrew Jackson: Inspirational Character Quotations
One man with courage makes a majority.
Knute Rockne: Inspirational Character Quotations
One player practicing sportsmanship is far better than 50 preaching it.
Michael J. Fox: Inspirational Character Quotations
One's dignity may be assaulted, vandalized and cruelly mocked, but cannot be taken away unless it is surrendered.
Stephen Covey: Inspirational Character Quotations
Our character is basically a composite of our habits. Because they are consistent, often unconscious patterns, they constantly, daily, express our character.
John Ruskin: Inspirational Character Quote
In every person who comes near you look for what is good and strong, honor that; try to imitate it, and your faults will drop off like dead leaves when their time comes.
Thomas Jefferson: Inspirational Character Quote
In matters of style, swim with the current; in matters of principle, stand like a rock.
Me thinketh, you are all taking yourselves waaaay too seriously.
DADA was a ing hobby-horse. You are all walking corpses and your words will not save you.
Because,because,because....
Art is just the word fart -F.
"Well, Prince, so Genoa and Lucca are now just family estates of the Buonapartes. But I warn you, if you don't tell me that this means war, if you still try to defend the infamies and horrors perpetrated by that Antichrist- I really believe he is Antichrist- I will have nothing more to do with you and you are no longer my friend, no longer my 'faithful slave,' as you call yourself! But how do you do? I see I have frightened you- sit down and tell me all the news."
It was in July, 1805, and the speaker was the well-known Anna Pavlovna Scherer, maid of honor and favorite of the Empress Marya Fedorovna. With these words she greeted Prince Vasili Kuragin, a man of high rank and importance, who was the first to arrive at her reception. Anna Pavlovna had had a cough for some days. She was, as she said, suffering from la grippe; grippe being then a new word in St. Petersburg, used only by the elite.
All her invitations without exception, written in French, and delivered by a scarlet-liveried footman that morning, ran as follows:
"If you have nothing better to do, Count (or Prince), and if the prospect of spending an evening with a poor invalid is not too terrible, I shall be very charmed to see you tonight between 7 and 10- Annette Scherer."
"Heavens! what a virulent attack!" replied the prince, not in the least disconcerted by this reception. He had just entered, wearing an embroidered court uniform, knee breeches, and shoes, and had stars on his breast and a serene expression on his flat face. He spoke in that refined French in which our grandfathers not only spoke but thought, and with the gentle, patronizing intonation natural to a man of importance who had grown old in society and at court. He went up to Anna Pavlovna, kissed her hand, presenting to her his bald, scented, and shining head, and complacently seated himself on the sofa.
"First of all, dear friend, tell me how you are. Set your friend's mind at rest," said he without altering his tone, beneath the politeness and affected sympathy of which indifference and even irony could be discerned.
"Can one be well while suffering morally? Can one be calm in times like these if one has any feeling?" said Anna Pavlovna. "You are staying the whole evening, I hope?"
"And the fete at the English ambassador's? Today is Wednesday. I must put in an appearance there," said the prince. "My daughter is coming for me to take me there."
"I thought today's fete had been canceled. I confess all these festivities and fireworks are becoming wearisome."
"If they had known that you wished it, the entertainment would have been put off," said the prince, who, like a wound-up clock, by force of habit said things he did not even wish to be believed.
"Don't tease! Well, and what has been decided about Novosiltsev's dispatch? You know everything."
Me thinketh, you are all taking yourselves waaaay too seriously.
DADA was a ing hobby-horse. You are all walking corpses and your words will not save you.
Because,because,because....
Art is just the word fart -F.
The sailing is much better when you don't rock the boat.
THE SAILING IS MUCH BETTER WHEN YOU DON'T ROCK THE BOAT.
WANNA GROW
UP TO BE
BE A DEBASER, DEBASER
Surging upwards and out a pillar of fire. Gusts of air form a nuturing glove that enticingly provokes. War is raw but peace is dull. DIE Do I Exist?
or merely persist in this inward
outward sense of release?
RELEASE! pushing off into the abyss of my mind. Put up my feet and keep my head above the gushing subconscious. Where this stream of consciousness goes only ___ knows. Else towards the ocean of our collective being to be transformed, transmuted and computed rising once more in the ethereal heat of passion. Rationed off to the sun and moon.
is anybody there?
I believe in the possibility "I Exist". Our collective sun and moon transformed. I perceive gushing rising release into the abyss. I believe something bigger, the great kosmos makes sense. A whole new resolved dichotomy, this stream. In a sense passion rationed once more to merely persist. Consciousness knows and yet something deeper, kosmos consciousness, this feeling; innocence coursing through my formless epicenter. I perceive creating coincidence. I feel put up, my head fire. More than random we make our metaphorical passion resolved through our mind. Something greater inferred new possibility; our transmuted war is deeper than the ocean my veins constrict I perceive cultivating a new whole person; I believe in trying to exist deeper. Release! DIE into a feeling, rationed off to the great kosmos else towards this collective passion, resolved
re-solved. There; anybody perceive I? believe.
So anyway; I wrote that above there starting with "I believe" with a little help from a friend I don't know. I'm a bit proud of it; because the second half is a cut-up of the first half.
I feel like sharing vulnerability today. I'm presently contemplating moving up to San Francisco but don't know if I should leave everything behind or bring friends along or blaze a path for others to follow. On the other hand; should (except for the fact that i use that word as "in order to manifest the highest good") but i know i need to do some inner work. Spilling my ills into the collective while secretly hoping i'll get the answer from any other source than myself. I love you all by the way. MY WORDS WILL ALWAYS SAVE ME--- but then again, who wants to be saved? seems like a set-up to an unhealthy paradigm of existence to me... Which reminds me; UNHEALTHY RELATIONSHIPS. there i said it and got it out. Loving all my past learning encounters by the way so thankful for all the awareness that allows us to learn through joy rather than pain.
You think?
Now here now here
put it put it put it
putain putain putain
We are here, very french
This this this
now is here
here, here, here
herehereheA vibrant language reA vibrant language hereherehereA vibrant language A vibrant language
dinner, perhaps, or less, or more. Can we?
i LIKE TO BE LAZY. sMOKE CIGARETTES; dRINK CAFE FRAi WILL
NCAIS; tHINK AND READ---dO NOTHING---aT ALL
-with you and you are no longer
i WISH i WAS...
"You are all walking corpese and your words will never save you." My words will save me from the sanity of knowing I am going insane. To live inside my words and these characters and worlds I create is sanity enough for me and saves me well enough to know I can be saved. I am a walking corpse trapped in this grave, burried alive by character and plot and sensory detail and abstraction, but my words will never abandon me. The filth of moist dirt cakes my skin until I can write it away and give that feeling to a character plauging the back of my mind until I can spill it into words and the world I create for each of them satisfies them, or pacifies them until I can again create a world in which they live happily. This ever changing world I tend to live in, as well, with my words.
I AM A WALKING CORPSE. MY WORDS WILL ALWAYS SAVE ME.
woke up this morning
seemed to me
that every night turned out to be
a little bit more like bukowski
and yeah, i know,
he's a pretty good read
but god, who'd wanna be.
god, who'd wanna be such an asshole?
i WILL STAND UNTIL THE AND
woke up this morning
seemed to me
that every night turned out to be
a little bit more like bukowski
and yeah, i know,
he's a pretty good read
but god, who'd wanna be.
god, who'd wanna be such an asshole?
woke up this morning
I believe in the possibility of random experiences cultivating a whole new person, brought up from the depths of this cosmic consciousness, creating circumstance, heightened by coincidence, perhaps inferred by something greater; something bigger, more than ourselves, matter in the great kosmos. Who knows? these things happen. Precept is reality. We make our daze and our hour makes sense. And yet, I perceive something deeper than even this feeling of a greater. Coursing through my metaphorical veins grating upon my epicenter. Trying to constrict in order to release innocence. In a sense, a formless form. A dichotomy that could only be resolved through frontal lobotomy. experiences cultivating a whole new crop, brought up from the depths of this fertile soil, creating sprouts bursting with nutrients, organized by affinity, drenched by rains and enlivened by the sun; something delicious, more than ourselves, greenery in the great kosmos. Who knows? Even more peculiar things occur. An octopus is reality. We wiggle our tentacles and the deep corals makes sense. And yet, hidden in a trench even deeper than this abyss falling down below the waving kelps and sandy eels. Coarser than a metaphorical cheese grating upon my epicenter. Trying these constraints in order to release an unexpected lullaby. In a sense, a formless form. I'd rather have a bottle in front of me than a frontal lobotomy. affinity, drenched by rains and enlivened by the sun; something delicious, more than ourselves, greenery in the great kosmos. Who knows? Even more peculiar things occur. An octopus is reality. We wiggle our tentacles and the deep corals makes sense. And yet, hidden in a trench even deeper than this abyss falling down below the waving kelps and sandy eels. Coarser than a metaphorical cheese grating upon my epicenter. Trying these constraints in order to release an unexpected lullaby. In a sense, a formless form. I'd rather have a bottle in front of me than a frontal lobotomy. Full of manjuu! Having them right now dado~ Dont eat the little ones! After that the five koyukkuri that were taken away became food to Remilia children. Refu refu! Uguu, Yuchi kun threwed me awayyy! Umaru! Wehhh onichan! he was there tickling the poor innocent girl a trench even deeper than this abyss falling down below the waving kelps and sandy eels. Quiet, like the end of the world. Trying to snap these constraints in order to release an unexpected lullaby. In a sense, a formless form.
I know not of what they speak. Their words, they are as distant as a dream.
They are the wind- its melodic whispers embroidered with only the softest of moss. They are an endless ocean, dark and lifeless, gently dusted with the finest of jewels like far-away stars. They are like Eternity, cold and unloving- yet their deadly embrace encompasses everything that ever has been, will be, and is.
They are forever, and we are nothing.
But enough nothings will one day be something. the world. Trying to snap these constraints in order to release an unexpected lullaby. In a sense, a formless form.
I know not of what they speak. Their words, they are as distant as a dream.
They are the wind- its melodic whispers embroidered with only the softest of moss. They are an endless ocean, dark and lifeless, gently dusted with the finest of jewels like far-away stars. They are like Eternity, cold and unloving- yet their deadly embrace encompasses everything that ever has been, will be, and is.
They are forever, and we are nothing.
But enough nothings will one day be something. today is the first day HAHAHAHA
release an unexpected lullaby. In a sense, a formless form.
I know not of what they speak. Their words, they are as distant as a dream.
They are the wind- its melodic whispers embroidered with only the softest of moss. They are an endless ocean, dark and lifeless, gently dusted with the finest of jewels like far-away stars. They are like Eternity, cold and unloving- yet their deadly embrace encompasses everything that ever has been, will be, and is.
They are forever, and we are nothing.
But enough nothings will one day be something. Today is the first day. It is only a matter of time. unexpected lullaby. In a sense, a formless form.
I know not of what they speak. Their words, they are as distant as a dream.
They are the wind- its melodic whispers embroidered with only the softest of moss. They are an endless ocean, dark and lifeless, gently dusted with the finest of jewels like far-away stars. They are like Eternity, cold and unloving- yet their deadly embrace encompasses everything that ever has been, will be, and is.
They are forever, and we are nothing.?
But enough nothings will one day be something. Today is the first day. ?It is only a matter of time?
?
?
?
?
Have a timeless time. a sense, a formless form.
I know not of what they speak. Their words, they are as distant as a dream.
They are the wind- its melodic whispers embroidered with only the softest of moss. They are an endless ocean, dark and lifeless, gently dusted with the finest of jewels like far-away stars. They are like Eternity, cold and unloving- yet their deadly embrace encompasses everything that ever has been, will be, and is.
They are forever, and we are nothing.?
But enough, nothing will one day be something. Today is the first day. It is only a matter of time?
Have a timeless time. From Timeless.co. I sense a formless form.
I know not of what they speak. Their words, they are as distant as a dream.
They are the wind- its melodic whispers embroidered with only the softest of moss. They are an endless ocean, dark and lifeless, gently dusted with the finest of jewels like far-away stars. They are like eternity, cold and unloving- yet their deadly embrace encompasses everything that ever has been, will be, and is.
They are forever, and we are nothing.
But with enough time, nothing will one day be something.
It is only a matter of time.
It is only a matter of time until they come, until the melodic whispers and deadly embrace turn into her.
For she, is me. They are as distant as a dream.
They are the wind- its melodic whispers embroidered with only the softest of moss. They are an endless ocean, dark and lifeless, gently dusted with the finest of jewels like far-away stars. They are like eternity, cold and unloving- yet their deadly embrace encompasses everything that ever has been, will be, and is.
They are forever, and we are nothing.
But with enough time, nothing will one day be something.
It is only a matter of time.
It is only a matter of time until they come, until the melodic whispers and deadly embrace turn into her.
For she, is me. as distant as a dream.
They are the wind- its melodic whispers embroidered with only the softest of moss. They are an endless ocean, dark and lifeless, gently dusted with the finest of jewels like far-away stars. They are like eternity, cold and unloving- yet their deadly embrace encompasses everything that ever has been, will be, and is.
They are forever, and we are nothing.
But with enough time, nothing will one day be something.
It is only a matter of time.
It is only a matter of time until they come, until the melodic whispers and deadly embrace turn into her.
For she, is me. bye lol HELLO . They are the wind- its melodic whispers embroidered with only the softest of moss. They are an endless ocean, dark and lifeless, gently dusted with the finest of jewels like far-away stars. They are like eternity, cold and unloving- yet their deadly embrace encompasses everything that ever has been, will be, and is.
They are forever, and we are nothing.
But with enough time, nothing will one day be something.
It is only a matter of time.
However, since the term of time is defined by us humans, who knows whether there is truly time or not?! They are the wind- its melodic whispers embroidered with only the softest of moss. They are an endless ocean, dark and lifeless, gently dusted with the finest of jewels like far-away stars. They are like eternity, cold and unloving- yet their deadly embrace encompasses everything that ever has been, will be, and is.
They are forever, and we are nothing.
But with enough time, nothing will one day be something.
It is only a matter of time.
However, since the term of time is defined by us humans, who knows whether there is truly time or not?! They are the wind- its melodic whispers embroidered with only the softest of moss. They are an endless ocean, dark and lifeless, gently dusted with the finest of jewels like far-away stars. They are like eternity, cold and unloving- yet their deadly embrace encompasses everything that ever has been, will be, and is.
They are forever, and we are nothing.
But with enough time, nothing will one day be something.
It is only a matter of time.
However, since the term of time is defined by us humans, who knows whether there is truly time or not?! They are the wind- its melodic whispers embroidered with only the softest of moss. They are an endless ocean, dark and lifeless, gently dusted with the finest of jewels like far-away stars. They are like eternity, cold and unloving- yet their deadly embrace encompasses everything that ever has been, will be, and is.
They are forever, and we are nothing.
But with enough time, nothing will one day be something.
It is only a matter of time.
However, since the term of time is defined by us humans, who knows whether there is truly time or not?! Is there truly time or not?! They are the wind- its melodic whispers embroidered with only the softest of moss. They are an endless ocean, dark and lifeless, gently dusted with the finest of jewels like far-away stars. They are like eternity, cold and unloving- yet their deadly embrace encompasses everything that ever has been, will be, and is.
They are forever, and we are nothing.
But with enough time, nothing will one day be something.
It is only a matter of time.
However, since the term of time is defined by us humans, who knows whether there is truly time or not?! Is there indeed time or not?! They are the breeze - its melodious whispers adorned with only the gentlest of moss. They are a boundless ocean, dark and void, softly sprinkled with the finest of gems like distant stars. They resemble eternity, cold and unfeeling - yet their lethal embrace encompasses all that ever was, will be, and is.
They are everlasting, and we are naught.
But with ample time, naught will someday become something.
It is simply a matter of time.
Nevertheless, since the concept of time is defined by us humans, who knows if there is indeed time or not?! Is there indeed time or not?! They are the breeze - its melodious whispers adorned with only the gentlest of moss. They are a boundless ocean, dark and void, softly sprinkled with the finest of gems like distant stars. They resemble eternity, cold and unfeeling - yet their lethal embrace encompasses all that ever was, will be, and is.
They are everlasting, and we are naught.
But with ample time, naught will someday become something.
It is simply a matter of time.
Nevertheless, since the concept of time is defined by us humans, who knows if there is indeed time or not?! Is there indeed time or not?! They are the breeze - its melodious whispers adorned with only the gentlest of moss. They are a boundless ocean, dark and void, softly sprinkled with the finest of gems like distant stars. They resemble eternity, cold and unfeeling - yet their lethal embrace encompasses all that ever was, will be, and is.
They are everlasting, and we are naught.
But with ample time, naught will someday become something.
It is simply a matter of time.
Nevertheless, since the concept of time is defined by us humans, who knows if there is indeed time or not?! You are a big deal! You are a big deal! Working to it; have you ever seen the eyes of a child at dawn? There is not much to see, however, you feel an empty gap where that sight should rest. Discover your verdict or let it cease to exist, no one cares, but time is a limited resource and there are plenty of names to collect. Write the names where they least want them! Leave your mark where nothing lies! But should you let them see your present, if they are not allowed to see your past? Will you let them see your future? If you are not bold enough to show everything, why show anything at all? Burning buildings is only ever useful to the match, to end its sorry days. Will you let yourself perish if it only benefits one? Will your words save you if they never see the light? Will you see the eyes of the child if dawn never breaks? Will you ever blossom if the sun never shines, if rain never falls? Will your name be read if it was written somewhere hidden? Did the building ever really burn if no one cared about it? Did the tree fall at all if it was already dying? Would you have heard the noise if you were paying more attention? Will you go through life listening? Or will you go deaf in your mind? Will your words save you if they never see the light? Will you see the eyes of the child if dawn never breaks? Will you ever blossom if the sun never shines, if rain never falls? Will your name be read if it was written somewhere hidden? Did the building ever really burn if no one cared about it? Did the tree fall at all if it was already dying? Would you have heard the noise if you were paying more attention? Will you go through life listening? Or will you go deaf in your mind? fuck Holdin' mask
To safe Your vision.
What is I - complete by Youth?
Anger's louder, when life takes
Unreasonable stone of truth.
Moonhall Drifter, flowed by nightmare,
Wound we take... would we take...
Would we cut these scenes,
Would we stay in safe,
Would flow hold love trips,
Would we dance insane?
Will U touch saint truth -
My tears is all You had,
Beyound and safed, unlocked,
Fallin' back off grave.. Why can we not forget
The burden grows heavy
Too heavy
I can no longer go on Aytac Peace, why are you elusive?
Where can I find you?
Are you lost to me?
Or have I not yet found you,
For I have not yet looked.
Peace, are you out there?
Or are you within me?
Locked in a box of my own making,
Waiting to be let out?
Are you in my heart?
Are you in my mind?
Are you even there?
Peace, is there a key to reach you?
What must I do to unlock you?
Give me a sign.
Show me how.
For I need you.
What am I if not complete without you?
Anger's loud within me,
Bitterness like bile inside me,
Hate like a monster eating me,
And life takes unreasonable directions,
That seem out of my control.
Without you I drift along,
Followed by nightmares,
Wounds I take,
Wounds I inflict,
Like a horror movie,
Or maybe a tragedy.
Peace, if you come into my life,
Could I cut those horrible scenes?
Would I stay safe and feel safe?
Would love be easier to find?
Would I be able to dance in joy?
Peace, are you also Truth?
To find you, must I seek Truth?
My tears, could they become tears of happiness?
Peace, will you unlock my soul?
So I can get up off this grave of misery,
Where I cannot forget pain,
And wallow in it as though it's a good thing.
Peace, the burden of finding you grows heavy,
Too heavy for me.
So will you find me please?
Take, Give,
Wounds inflicted,
Old scars reopened.
Thousands of cuts covering skin.
Love, if you entered my life,
Could I begin to heal?
Would the bleeding stop?
Would it be easier to reconcile?
Would I be able to sing and dance as I did before?
Love, are you also Hate?
To find one, must I know the other?
Must I cry so that I may smile?
Love, will you free my heart?
So that I can leave this graveyard of my past,
Where I cannot forget pain,
And unlock the cage that holds me?
Love, the weight of searching for you grows heavy,
Too heavy for me.
Please find me soon,
I fear that if you don't,
I'll drown in my tears. So I'm there,
Charging around with a juggernaut brow
Overdraft speeches and deadlines to make
Cramming commitments like cats in a sack
Telephone burn and a purposeful gait
When out of a doorway the tentacles stretch
Of a song that I know and the world moves in slow-mo
Straight to my head like the first cigarette of the day
And it's you and it's May
And we're sleeping through the day
And I'm five years ago
And three thousand miles away
Do I have time? A man of my calibre?
Stood in the street like a sleepwalking teenager?
No. And I dealt with this years ago
I took a hammer to every memento
But image on image like beads on a rosary
Pull through my head as the music takes hold
And the sickener hits, I could work till I break
But I love the bones of you, that I will never escape
And it's you, and it's May
And we're sleeping through the day
And I'm five years ago
And three thousand miles away
And I can't move my arm
For the fear that you will wake
And I'm five years ago
And three thousand miles away
And I'm five years ago
And three thousand miles away
And I'm five years ago
And three thousand miles away
And it's you and its May
And we're sleeping through the day
And I'm five years ago
And three thousand miles away rosary
Pull through my head as the music takes hold
And the sickener hits, I could work till I break
But I love the bones of you, that I will never escape
And it's you, and it's May
And we're sleeping through the day
And I'm five years ago
And three thousand miles away
And I can't move my arm
For the fear that you will wake
And I'm five years ago
And three thousand miles away
And I'm five years ago
And three thousand miles away
And I'm five years ago
And three thousand miles away
And it's you and its May
And we're sleeping through the day
And I'm five years ago
And three thousand miles away You chain me down, down in your sleep
But I love the bones of you, that will never escape
And it's you, and it's wrong
And you're sleeping through the day
And I'm five seconds too late
And you're three thousand miles away
And I can't move
For the fear that you will wake
And I'm five seconds too late
And I'm five seconds too late
And I'm five seconds too late
And it's you and it's wrong
And we're sleeping through the day
And I'm five seconds too late
And you're three thousand miles away
And the stone reads your name
And the soil dresses your hair
And the soil cushions your head
And I'm five seconds too late me down, down in your sleep
But I love the bones of you, that will never escape
And it's you, and it's wrong
And you're sleeping through the day
And I'm five seconds too late
And you're three thousand miles away
And I can't move
For the fear that you will wake
And I'm five seconds too late
And I'm five seconds too late
And I'm five seconds too late
And it's you and it's wrong
And we're sleeping through the day
And I'm five seconds too late
And you're three thousand miles away
And the stone reads your name
And the soil dresses your hair
And the soil cushions your head
And I'm five seconds too late
Until I hear the bell ringing in the distance
I sound I feared would shake and break the distance.
you, and it's wrong
And you're sleeping through the day
And I'm five seconds too late
And you're three thousand miles away
And I can't move
For the fear that you will wake
And I'm five seconds too late
And I'm five seconds too late
And I'm five seconds too late
And it's you and it's wrong
And we're sleeping through the day
And I'm five seconds too late
And you're three thousand miles away
And the stone reads your name
And the soil dresses your hair
And the soil cushions your head
And I'm five seconds too late
Until I hear the bell ringing in the distance
I sound I feared would shake and break the distance.
you, and it's wrong
And you're sleeping through the day
And I'm five seconds too late
And you're three thousand miles away
And oijdoifhvoihnvoih
Oil is killing whales
I have work afterschool im so tired
I can't move
For the fear that you will wake
And I'm you, and it's wrong
And you're sleeping through the day
And I'm five seconds too late
And you're three thousand miles away
And I can't move but I can scream
For the fear that you will wake
And I'm five seconds too late
Im so late
And I'm five seconds too late
And I'm five seconds too late
And it's you and it's wrong
And we're sleeping through the day
And I'm five seconds too late
And you're three thousand miles away
And the stone reads your name
And the soil dresses your hair
And the soil cushions your head
And I'm five seconds too late
Until I hear the bell ringing in the distance
I sound I feared would shake and break the distance.
Are you kidding you, and it's wrong
And you're sleeping through the night
And I'm ninety seconds too late
And you're forty thousand years away
And I can't move
For the fear that you will wake
And I'm eighty seconds too late
And I'm seventy seconds too late
And I'm sixty seconds too late
And it's you and it's wrong
And we're sleeping through the nights
And I'm ninety seconds too late
And you're eighty thousand miles away
And the stone reads your name
And the soil dresses your hair
And the soil cushions your head
And I'm five seconds too late
Until I hear the bell ringing in the distance
I sound I feared would shake and break the distance.
and it's wrong
And you're sleeping through the day
And I'm five seconds too late
And you're three thousand miles away
I can't move
For the fear that you will wake
I'm five seconds too late
I'm five seconds too late
I'm five seconds too late
And it's you and your wrong
And we're sleeping through the day
I'm five seconds too late
you're three thousand miles away
And the stone reads your name
And the soil sucubs your brain
And the dirt cushions your head
And I'm struck with the truth, your dead
Until I hear the bell ringing in the distance
A sound I feared would shake and break the resistance
Why can't this class finish a puzzle together?
I am going to cry all night.
It's you, and it's wrong
And you're sleeping through the ages
And I'm just seconds too late
And you're a thousand days away
And I can't move
For the fear that you will wake
The fear that you will hear, will see, will know
And I'm just seconds too late
And I'm just seconds too late
And I'm just seconds too late
And it's you and it's wrong
And we're sleeping through the day
And I'm just seconds too late
And you're three thousand miles away
And the stone reads your name
And the soil dresses your hair
And the soil cushions your head
And I'm just seconds too late
Until I hear the bell ringing across time
I sound I feared would shake and break the distance. ages
And I'm just seconds too late
And you're a thousand days away
And I can't move
For the fear that you will wake
The fear that you will hear, will see, will know
And I'm just seconds too late
And I'm just seconds too late
And I'm just seconds too late
And it's you and it's wrong
And we're sleeping through the day
And I'm just seconds too late
And you're three thousand miles away
And the stone reads your name
And the soil dresses your hair
And the soil cushions your head
And I'm just seconds too late
Until I hear the bell ringing across time
I sound I feared would shake and break the distance. ages
And I'm just seconds too late
And you're a thousand days away
And I can't move
For the fear that you will wake
The fear that you will hear, will see, will know
And I'm just seconds too late
And I'm just seconds too late
And I'm just seconds too late
And it's you and it's wrong
And we're sleeping through the day
And I'm just seconds too late
And you're three thousand miles away
And the gravestones sing your name
And the soil dresses your hair
And the soil cushions your head
And I'm just seconds too late
Until I hear the bell ringing across time
I sound I feared would shake and break the distance. Distance ages us and time makes us wait
I reach for you
And I'm just seconds too late
And you're a thousand days away
And I can't move
For the fear that you will wake
The fear that you will hear, will see, will know
And I'm just seconds too late
And I'm just seconds too late
And I'm just seconds too late
And it's you and it's wrong
And we're sleeping through the day
And I'm just seconds too late
And you're three thousand miles away
And the gravestones sing your name
And the soil dresses your hair
And the soil cushions your head
And I'm just seconds too late
Until I hear the bell ringing across time
A sound I feared would shake and break the distance. you
And I'm just seconds too late
And you're a thousand days away
and the world fell
And I can't move
For the fear that you will wake
The fear that you will hear, will see, will know
And I'm just seconds too late
And I'm just seconds too late
And I'm just seconds too late
And it's you and it's wrong
And we're sleeping through the day
And I'm just seconds too late
And you're three thousand miles away
And the gravestones sing your name
And the soil dresses your hair
And the soil cushions your head
And I'm just seconds too late
Until I hear the bell ringing across time
A sound I feared would shake and break the distance. seconds too late
And you're a thousand days away
and the world fell
And I can't move
For the fear that you will wake
The fear that you will hear, will see, will know
And I'm just seconds too late
And I'm just seconds too late
And I'm just seconds too late
And it's you and it's wrong
And we're sleeping through the day
And I'm just seconds too late
And you're three thousand miles away
And the gravestones sing your name
And the soil dresses your hair
And the soil cushions your head
And I'm just seconds too late
Until I hear the bell ringing across time
A sound I feared would shake and break the distance. Mcdonland's the land of the Americans
the place was popular for it had many fans
fat and old, young and skinny
loved by lots, eaten by plenty
once you enter you'll never be hungry again
mcdonald is the mascot he wants some new friends
go meet him but be aware
the hamburggler is always near
so watch you food keep a close eye
or you'll be left with only a fry thousand miles away
And the gravestones sing your name
And the soil dresses your hair
And the soil cushions your head
And I'm just seconds too late when i was 13 i had my first love, there was nobody that compared to my baby and nobody could come between us nor could anyone aboveeee she had me going crazy oh i was starstruck she woke me up daily dont need to starbucks this is all fake.
We all know Wendy's is better than McDonalds I exist Stan stray kids
Stan itzy
Stan p1harmony
Stan aespa
Stan twice
Stan blackpink
Stan zb1
watch boys planet
stream magnetic by illit
when new jeans new album comes out stream that!!!
listen to kpop everyone
I promise you its worth it I've been listening since 2018 Stan stray kids
Stan itzy
Stan p1harmony
Stan aespa
Stan twice
Stan blackpink
Stan zb1
watch boys planet
stream magnetic by illit
when new jeans new album comes out stream that!!!
listen to kpop everyone
I promise you its worth it I've been listening since 2018 i was starstruck
she woke me up daily
pulling me into her orbit.
this is all fake
i want to say
and she knows before the thought parts my lips
i promise you it's worth it
she says with a smile. i was starstruck
she woke me up daily
pulling me into her orbit.
this is all fake
i want to say
and she knows before the thought parts my lips
i promise you it's worth it
she says with a smile. I am the god
At the core of the earth
Bound by the guts
Of a child I loved
My wife stays by me
Never leaving
Stopping my punishment
momentarily
But then the bowl fills
And she must leave to empty it
Letting the venom drip
Onto my face
A punishment for the pain I caused
Thousands of years ago
I howl and shake
Till the earth begins to quake
I cannot wait for the world to end
So me and my children
Can take revenge This system is not working
I may be in internal darkness
I hate that i have to be specific
Please, oh someone, help
Writing is not a passion
Although it is a need
I hope for others to love it
I however do not
May writing be for everyone
But not for me. i I live in the American Gardens building on West 81st street. My name is Patrick Bateman. I'm 27 years old. I believe in taking care of myself, and a balanced diet and a rigorous exercise routine. In the morning, if my face is a little puffy, I'll put on an ice pack while doing my stomach crunches. I can do a thousand now. After I remove the ice pack, I use a deep pore cleanser lotion. In the shower, I use a water activated gel cleanser. Then a honey almond body scrub. And on the face, an exfoliating gel scrub. Then apply an herb mint facial mask, which I leave on for 10 minutes while I prepare the rest of my routine. I always use an aftershave lotion with little or no alcohol, because alcohol dries your face out and makes you look older. Then moisturizer, then an anti-aging eye balm followed by a final moisturizing protective lotion. There is an idea of a Patrick Bateman, some kind of abstraction, but there is no real me. Only an entity, something illusory. And though I can hide my cold gaze, and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours and maybe you can even sense our life styles are probably comparable, I simply am not there. I leave her
my mother
empty
like the day I was born
I leave her sad
and empty
because I cannot
feel the love
as I should
I cannot care
as I should
and so
as I leave my house
for the last time
I turn to see her wave
as I leave her
empty
like the day I was born I know I am what you desire
And for me you call
But I cannot force myself to love you
So I must pretend out of pity
For your hear is fresh and red and warm
Mine is cold and shriveled and blue
The ocean of love you contain
Will never fill my freshwater puddle
You say all the right things
You do it in all the right ways
But my heart leans left
Away from you
I cannot help that my dislike for you is a leaf in the wind
The wind sweeps it as it pleases
I cannot control the wind my dear
If I could I would turn to you
But alas it moves in a circular motion
Always moving
Never getting anywhere
Please understand I would love you if I could I loved my wife dearly
Never leaving her once
But she did not love me
And she had to leave
Leaving me feeling hopeless and broken
A punishment for all the pain I caused her
And It felt like that day my world ended
The system reset giving me a new chance to once again fail
I may be eternally alone left in darkness forever
Someone please save me from this life
I need for others to love me
They do not have any love for me
love may be easy for everyone
But not for me.