tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54414784025604474112024-03-12T20:01:46.082-05:00Gravebomb StudiosAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15154342245696908113noreply@blogger.comBlogger26125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441478402560447411.post-29716075715734289542016-10-03T00:59:00.001-05:002016-10-03T00:59:20.777-05:00ride the light (part one)<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 19px;">
<b>ILLIMINATE TERRIBLE OF ALL IMAGINABLE SENSES</b></div>
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<b>BREAK A NEW PATH HIGHER FOUND OF LAST FATHOM</b></div>
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<b>WALKING AGAINST RAGE IN A WAY UNDISCOVERED BY MEANS OF STABILITY ONLY TO PAUSE FOR THE LIFE GIVEN TO DIMENSIONAL TRAVEL</b></div>
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<b>IF A WORLD FORGOTTEN FELL SLAVE TO THE FINGERTIPS OF DICTATION MEDITATED IN THE MINDS OF UNDERCRAWLING SIGNALIC TONES ONE WOULD HAVE TO STAND UP AND OPEN FIRE BY MEANS OF MENTALITY ALONE, CRACK A CAN OF WHOOP ASK THE PASSERBY’S FOR STRESS ITS A LONG WAY TO THE CENTER OF SATURN, BREAKING THRU THE CRUST OF UNBEARABLE MEMORIES I LOCK INTO THE DEADSIGHT HELD CAPTIVE MANIFESTED RIPPED OUT OF A BREATHING EXTERNAL RIB CAGE HEART PUMPING PURPLE 24 POUNDED IN TEN MINUTES LATER ABOUT TO EXPLODE</b></div>
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<b>GIVEN TO REALIZE TRUST HAS BEEN BROKEN TO SINFUL DOUBTING HABIT STANDING PASSED RECONSTRUCTED INTO UNFUNCTIONAL FUTURISTIC BATTLE BEAMS AIMED AS THE KITES FLY STALE AND STYLE-LESS LOW TO THE GROUND WINDLESS SKINNED CROSSES OF FILTH CRAWL OUT OF THE WOODWORK BLADDERING NONSENSICAL RIDICULOUSNESS NOT EVEN THE MORTAL MIND WOULD FALL FOR, TELLING OF WANABE ANCIENT WAYS THE ANCESTORS PAVED OVER GRASS BUILT TO GROW NOW BURNED DOWN AND IN THE LIGHT OF ITS FACE YOU WAVE AWAY, SKIN EXPOSED WIND IN THE HAIR LOOKING FREE BUT NOW BEHIND BARS WITH TEARS IN THOSE BIG BLUE EYES I FIND THUNDERSTORMS CALLING MY ENTITY, CHALLENGING ME TO WAR WITH THE ELEMENTAL SCRUBBLE I AM LEFT HERE TO DEAL, CALLING UPON A TEAM OF ASTRONAUTICAL NAVIGATORS ON THE GROUND FOCUSING HIDDEN ENERGY UPON ATOM SPLITTING REENACTMENT IN REACTION TO TRAVEL THROUGH HEAVEN DIMENSIONALLY MISGUIDED TAKE A WRONG TURN AND TURN FRACTURED TO SECOND FRACTION A QUARTER BOTTLE DUMPED DOWN AN UNEVEN RIVER OF PACKED AND COMPACTED ACTION STILL SITTING STAYING PUT IN ONE PLACE WAIT FOR THE LIGHTENING BEAMS TO POUR IN THE WINDOWS FROM THE SKY, TICK TIMED OUT TALK TIL GOODBYE.</b></div>
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<b>TAKE PLACE INTO MISTAKE FELT A FEELING HAPPENED MILES AWAY TOWNS OVER TAPPING INTO THE LINES OF THE SIMILAR WAVELENGTH HAPPENED TO BE CALLED UPON AS I’M CROSSING ABOVE THE CLOUDS AT NIGHT THE LIGHT IS SO LOUD ITS LIKE DAY UP HERE, STILL DISTANT TIP-TOEING TOWARD THE CRYSTAL BALL OF SUPERNATURAL ENERGY PASSED TEMPTING NOW PULLING ME GUIDEDLY INTO ITS CUSTODY. FORMING TO TRUE FORM OF CONSCIOUS BEING COMFORTABLE FREEZING MYSELF TO THE CORE WITH EYES CLOSED HEAD BACK I SMILE IN THE WARM WIND OF PEACEFUL GIVEN ETERNITY BLASTING REALITY INTO BEAUTY OF FREEDOM FROM PSYCHOSIS, PSYCHOTIC MESSAGES IN LIGHT CODE THE DARK TO LOOK AROUND AND BEAR SIGNAL TO WHERE I JUST WAS BUT WAS I EVER ON POINT SET TO NEVER REMEMBER THAT TIME OF EXISTENCE AGAIN….</b></div>
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<b>BARELY REMEMBERING BACK. UNABLE TO REALLY RESPOND, CAME SO CLOSE IN TOUCH WITH DEATH THAT I’M NUMB TO LIFE PRIOR FOR GOOD REASON. TERRIBLY UNHEALTHY, HEART PROBLEMS, IV’S, TUBES DOWN THE NOSE AND THROAT, COMPLETELY WITHOUT CLOTHES UNDER A SHEET TO THE SAME HOSPITAL BED I WAS JUST STANDING NEXT TO IN THE BROOM CLOSET ONLY IT WAS EMPTY.......</b></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15154342245696908113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441478402560447411.post-33749550187627127562016-06-14T23:03:00.000-05:002016-06-14T23:09:10.535-05:00TO HEAR/SUPPORT MY WRITING/PRODUCTION/MIXING TOGETHER IN AUDIO FORM:<br />
<br />
<br />
click on one of these 3 links:<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.microsoft.com/en-us/store/music/album/nutcracker-dungeonist/going-through-hell-with-style/8d6kgx0jjmz9"><span style="color: #e69138;">MICROSOFT STORE</span></a><br />
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Going-Through-Style-Nutcracker-Dungeonist/dp/B01B29UO0S/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1465962434&sr=8-2&keywords=nutcracker+dungeonist"><span style="color: #3d85c6;">AMAZON</span></a> <--------HARD COPIES AVAILABLE HERE</div>
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</div>
<a href="https://itun.es/us/ZYipab"><span style="color: lime;">itunes</span></a>
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THANKS IN ADVANCE!!!!!!!</div>
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-BOB L</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15154342245696908113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441478402560447411.post-64813366214863436712015-06-22T21:09:00.000-05:002015-06-22T21:09:08.118-05:00RUN [LIVE]<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 16px;">
<b>HALLOWED BE THE SOULS THAT TRIGGER FORM FOR MINDS TO FOLLOW. CRAFTING ROUTEWAYS AND COLLAPSING PATHS AFTER PASSING THROUGH DESTINY TAKING TIME TO METALIZE THOUGHT PATTERNS WRITTEN IN STONE WITH BONE, FORMS OF BEING TOLERITT RESISTANCE AGAINST THE WORLD THAT THROWS OUR WELL BEING INTO THE FIRE TO FUEL ROCKET POWERED ACCELERATION, EXCITING TO THE MASSES AS THEY COVER IN ASHES AFTER WITS HAVE BEEN SWEPT UP FROM THE BURNING GROUND. </b></div>
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<b>SPEEDING THRU SPACE PASSED DEATHLY LIFE BREATHING CENTER-PLAY-HEAD-HUNTING PERRILOUS ENERGY SPANK-A-CLAP GALAXY TAPPING OPEN FISTED TIME SHANK “CAPTAIN WE’VE DONE IT AGAIN” SORT OF SERIES OF VERBAL ACCOMPLISHMENT EVERY TIME NON-ABORTED MISSIONS COME TO A SERIAL CLOSE, NUMBERS CANNOT NOTATE THE LEVEL OF COMMUNICATION ASSUMED NO RESPONSE IS THE BEST ANSWER AND YOU CAN BE CHOSEN TO DROWN OVER THE SIMPLETON BECAUSE I KNOW YOU CAN TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF AND BE BETTER OFF AS WHOLE. </b></div>
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<b>TIS NOT IN THE CARDS AT ALL TO LIVE NOR DWELL AMONGST THE LIVING FROM THIS ROOM OF HELL DIVIDING MORTAL FROM THINKER PINK LIQUOR BOTTLE WARMING UP THE STOMACH TO WALK PLUMMET ATTACK HONED IN SIDEWALKING LEADER PACK ADDICTED TO CRACKED LIMMERICK ADLIB VERSE WACKER THAN WRITTEN BEAUTIFUL SULLEN DOLL PULLING HAIR LONG HAIR DOG BITING THE AIR BECAUSE IT SUDDENLY WENT BLIND AND THE IMAGE WAS SPITTING TO DEFY IMAGINATION ON EVERY LEVEL OF THE SPELL BEING CAST COVELAND BROKEN HOUSE RECONSTRUCTION DOCTOR BOW DOWN AND LET SCIENCE COMBINE RELIGIOUSLY SPINING TWING-TWANG RESEMBLE ALIGNING LIGHTENING LIKE LIGHTING LIGHT UP AT THE END OF A COMA TUNNEL, BEEN LOST SINCE BIRTH ON A NEW HOME-LIKE PLANTED EARTH. </b></div>
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<b>SO SEEDS GO FOUND WAY TO GROUND SIGNAL NOISE PULL POLLUTION OF RADIO WAVERICK MOLECULITISTICAL CATABAPTIMAL BAT TO ATTACK RALLY TO FIGHT BACK GIVE THE TAPED BAT BACK TO THE MAD BATTER IN BLACK HAT OR CALL BATMAN TO LATTER DAY HATTER SHATTER RICOCHET SMACK RACK OIL SPILL DRUM ROLL WHEN TIRES SQUEAL OFF THE GROUNDS FOR SAFETY REEK EM PAVEMENT SNOW SLIPPILY TRIPPING TIED SHOELACES RESTRICTED STUCK IN LOCKED CUPBOARD CABINET BEHIND NURSES DESK OFF LIMITS…. MORE LIKE LIMITING TURNED OFF COMPLETELY OF CONSCIOUS THOUGHT AND ANYTHING THAT GOES THROUGH THIS MIND IS WORSE THAN ENERGY OF BRAIN-KILLING SPIRIT SOUL TALISMANIC CLIMAXIMUM POTENTIAL EXCEEDENCE OF WISDOM DUMBED DOWN FOR THE DUMMIES THIS PLANTED EARTH SHARES THE SURFACE WITH AS TO NOT GET LOCKED UP OR GONE MAD WITH THE OBSURDITIES ANCIENT VESSELS LEFT CRAWLING SCATTERED WITH INFORMATIONAL DATA BANK LATERAL PALACE OF THE NIGHT IN THE DARK SURROUNDED ABOVE BY HOVERING SPACESHIPS SHINING SPOTLIGHTS IN THE WALL GAPS AND TECHTED HOLES FOR THE TERRIALS TO WATCH THE HIDDEN PERSONA AND LEARN A THING OR THREE….</b></div>
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<b>WITH LIFE BARRELING PERRIL RIFLE-LIKE DOWN THE BARREL OF A WRECKED PARABLE CANNON, METAPHORIC TO AIMLANDY ROAMING DOWNTOWN WITH NOTHING ON THE AGENDA BUT TO WRECK AND DESTROY WHAT HAS BEEN PUT IN AN ENDORSED PLACE, I LAUGH IN THE FACE OF ENFORCEMENT WHILE TEARILY SCREAMING PUT A GUN TO MY NAKED HEAD AND GET TAKEN WHAT THEY CANT AFFORD TO GIVE UP, I WILL MAKE SURE YOUR EXISTANCE NEVER EXISTED TO TAKE PLACE IN THE ACTION PUT BEFORE MY ATTENTION PREVENTED SAFETY SWITCH PULLED OFF ON THE GLOCK TO PULL MOCKING BALLHUGGER WHITEY TIGHTEYS OVER SKULL BROKEN NOSE GLOWING BLUE FROM CONFESSIONAL SESSION OF HEAVEN REACHED LESSON IMPEACHFUL DRENCHED PEASANTS STAND AROUND MESSED IN THE HEAD SHIVERING FROM THE PAIN LOST WITH THEIR PRESENCE DEADENED LESS SCRUTILITY KNIFING SAINT FALLS FROM UFO HIDING ABOVE THE CLOUDS LARGER THAN THE CITIES REACHES AND COULD TAKE EVERY LIFE IMAGINABLE FROM INCEPTION OF PERCEPTION, EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN, FORGIVE THEM OUR FATHER, FRANKLESS IN THE WORLD SCRATCHED IN SOLID CATIBOLIC-WRITTEN LACK OF CANNIBIS IN THE MENTALITY FORMED ALIEN GENIUS TAKING NOTES ON KNOB AND FADER POSITIONS MENTALLY NOTED PRESETS MURDERING SONIC SPACE ALLOWED BETWEEN PORTS OF PURE GLORY AND RUMBLING THE LOW END TIL SHADOWS CRACK OPEN AND BLEED LIGHT….</b></div>
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<b>THIS IS THE REALIZATION OF TRUTH</b></div>
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<b>THIS IS THE SOLIDIFYING OF ANCIENT ENERGY FORMED INTO THOUGHT</b></div>
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<b>SKIP PASSED THE PRESENT AND IT WILL ALL BE FIGURED OUT</b></div>
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<b>BUT ONLY IF YOU FIGURE IT OUT FOR YOURSELF </b></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15154342245696908113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441478402560447411.post-9458248232770822122014-11-25T01:38:00.000-06:002014-11-25T01:38:30.369-06:00POEM ATTEMPT2<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px;">
<b>TIME'S MEANING TO HAVE NO END</b></div>
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<b>WORDS MEAN NOT UNTIL HALF SPENT</b></div>
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<b>BREAKING AND CRAWLING UP SPINES OF LIGHT</b></div>
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<b>MAINTAINING TO MAINTAIN AND HOLD TIGHT</b></div>
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<b>CAREGIVER OF THOUGHT RIPS PRESENCE </b></div>
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<b>PRODUCER OF HORRIBLY IMAGINATING MACHINES</b></div>
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<b>TAKING DOWN FORMS OF LITERAL ESSENCE ALONE </b></div>
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<b>AND CAPTIVATING BELL JARS INTO TANGIBLE BEAMS</b></div>
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<b>STAR LIGHT TO STAR FLY TO BE GONE OR HIGH</b></div>
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<b>WRITTEN DOWN PATTERNS WITH FLAMES IN THE SKY</b></div>
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<b>SOLAR WAYS TO CREATE WEAPONS SUPER INFUSED</b></div>
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<b>FUSES SO LONG THEY WILL NEVER BE USED</b></div>
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<b>AT LEAST NOT IN THIS LIFE THE NEXT OR THE LAST</b></div>
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<b>OR EVER AGAIN IN THE FUTURE OR PAST</b></div>
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<b>WHATS PASSING ABOVE HAS BEEN WRITTEN IN STONE</b></div>
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<b>ALREADY A PLUG IN THE JACK DIALED HOME</b></div>
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<b>SO SICKENLY SINISTER ITS FOUND DEADLY BEAUTIFUL</b></div>
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<b>THE MIND OF TWO SPIRITS CONJOINED ON MUTUAL</b></div>
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<b>ONLY ABSENCE OF THE OTHER KILLS</b></div>
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<b>NOTHING VISIBLE UNTIL IT SPILLS</b></div>
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<b>LAUGHTER BREAKS OUT AND THE COTTON WALLS BURN</b></div>
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<b>SINS SO OUTRAGEOUS GOD'S STOMACH TURNS</b></div>
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<b>DEFYING A BREED LAYED OUT ELITELY</b></div>
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<b>ROLLS OFF THE TONGUE AND LIPS SO SWEETLY</b></div>
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<b>GET IT IN DEEP OR PREY ON MY SOUL</b></div>
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<b>BURIED ALIVE YET SURVIVE AS A WHOLE</b></div>
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<b>NO HALFWAY TEMPTED HESITANT REALIZATIONS</b></div>
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<b>LIKE ANY THE HALF-MINDED GUYS OF THIS NATION</b></div>
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<b>WHAT LEGENDS ARE MADE OF MAKES UP WHAT'S A MAN</b></div>
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<b>CLEARLY A LOT ON THE MIND BY THE GRANDS</b></div>
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<b>OF BATTLES MAKING PAIN UNSTABLE BECOME BEARABLE</b></div>
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<b>CUZ MENTALLY... SPIRITUALLY... I'M STILL HOLDING YOUR HAND.</b></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15154342245696908113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441478402560447411.post-68182562156613909122014-08-25T18:02:00.001-05:002014-08-25T18:02:41.935-05:00THE HARD NOTE<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 17px;">
<b>DEAR GOD. THO UR CREATION OF THE PLANET EARTH DAMN NEAR DEFINES BIBLICAL, THE HUMAN WORLD IS ALL BULLSHIT AND THERE IS NOTHING BEAUTIFUL ABOUT IT. ITS CLEAR TO EVERYONE, THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN RIGHT AND WRONG, GOOD AND BAD,YET MOST LIVE THEIR LIVES AND ACTIONS LIKE THEY DO NOT CARE ONE BIT AND IT MAKES ME SICK. AT THIS POINT IN TIME IT IS IN FACT EVERYONE JUST LOOK OUT FOR THEIR OWN FUCKING SELF, DON'T REPAY A GREATER POWER NO MATTER WHAT THAT GREATER POWER HAS DONE TO HELP, TAKE ALL ONE CAN AND DO ALL ONE CAN TO TRASH EVERYTHING THE POWER STANDS FOR IN ORDER TO GET AHEAD, AND FOR WHAT. FOR THEIR OWN HUMANLY SUCCESS. THEIR HUMAN BODIES, SQUEEZED FOR FECES AND SEMEN EVERY DAY THEY ARE ALIVE, SO FRAGILE, COULD HAVE LIFE TAKEN BY YOU AT ANY GIVEN TIME AS EASY AS A DISGRUNTLED THOUGHT OF THY NEIGHBOR IN DRAMA. I HATE THE WORD "DRAMA". I HATE THE WORD "HUMAN". MORE LIKE, "HUMAN SPECIMAN". IF AN ALIEN WERE TO FLY PAST THE EARTH, IT WOULD SEE THE CITIES NEAR THE COASTS AND STREETS AND WONDER WHAT THIS DIRTY, SQUARE ASS LOOKING FUNGUS IS DOING GROWING ON AND FARTING UP THIS BEAUTIFUL PLANET.</b></div>
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<b>YOU, GOD, ARE THE ONLY ONE THAT KNOWS THIS ANSWER, WHATEVER YOUR INTENTIONS ARE FOR YOUR SINFUL CREATIONS I CAN ONLY RESPECT THAT ONCE I BECOME PURE ENERGY YOU WILL FILL ME IN ON THIS GALACTIC, UNIVERSE OF ALL UNIVERSES OF A SECRET. UNTIL THEN, I REFUSE TO TURN ON THE TELEVISION. I DON'T NEED THE NEWS TO TELL ME HOW THE WORLD IS DOING, I CAN FEEL IT THROUGH YOU, AND BECAUSE OF THIS CONNECTION I FIND MYSELF DISCONNECTED WITH THE SOCIAL SOCIETIES OF MANKIND AND HUMAN BEHAVIOUR. NO ONE LIVING WILL UNDERSTAND AND ITS NOT AT ALL LIKE I EXPECT THEM EVER TO GET IT IN THE LEAST BIT, NOR AM I GOING TO PUT ANY EFFORT INTO TRYING. </b></div>
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<b> ARMED ONLY WITH SOUND LIMIT DEFYING INSTRUMENTS OF CORRECTION AND ENHANCEMENT, I AM GOSPELLY GUIDED NATURAL TECHNOLOGY AND A MILITARY MINDED ANCESTRIAL WEAPON OF A HIGHER POWER. THE SKY IS A LOT LOWER IN MY WORLD. MY TITLE IS SENTINEL HURT-STAR SNIPER TRAINED IN THE WAYS OF HIGHER MANIPULATION, MY SKILLS INCLUDE THE INCREDIBLE ABILITY TO HANDLE STRESS AND KEEP CALM IN AN ALIEN OFFENSIVE SITUATION, GO MY WHOLE ADULT LIFE WITHOUT EATING FOOD, BREAK A HUMAN LOVECYCLE INTO MICROSCOPIC PIECES WITH MY BARE HANDS AND IN THE CASE OF AN EMERGENCY I CAN FOCUS A PATH OF SAFETY THRU CELESTIAL ALIEN DANGER USING ONLY MY HEIGHTENED MIND IN ORDER TO GUIDE THE PLANET TO SAFETY. BECAUSE UNCANNILY LARGER THREATS EXIST, MY MOTHER AND HER PARENTS HAVE PROVIDED ME THE TOOLS TO HARNESS SAID ENERGY INTO A BEAM INTIMIDATING ENOUGH TO RIVAL ANY OUTERWORLD PROBLEMATIC THREATENING OBSTACLE THAT MAY DEVELOP IN THE FAR REACHES OF SPACE. NO ONE KNOWS THE DANGERS OUT THERE. NO ONE UNDERSTANDS THAT THERE ARE GREAT FORCES TRYING TO TAKE A BITE OUT OF THE EARTH THOUSANDS OF TIMES PER DAY JUST TO WAKE EVERYONE THE FUCK UP AND SEE THE LAB THEY ARE IN AT ALL TIMES, HAVE BEEN SINCE THE FIRST DAY THEY CAN RECALL BUT NO ONE CAN RECALL THE TRUTH OF THEIR VERY EXISTENCE. </b></div>
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<b>THE ART OF USING MATHEMATICAL CONCEPTS OF RADIO ATOMIC CAPACITY TO SMASH ENEMY PLANETS INTO ONE ANOTHER IN ORDER TO SOLIDIFY THE HUMAN SPECIMENS ABILITY TO FIGHT THEMSELVES AND EJACULATE EACHOTHER CAN MAKE ONE NOT GIVE A FLYING FUCK ABOUT WHAT IS GOING ON DOWNTOWN MINNEAPOLIS, IF I STOP FOR A SECOND THEY'D ALL FACE A HELL THEIR VERY SPIRITS COMBINED COULDN'T AFFORD TO WITNESS SO FUCK ANY ISSUES THEY MAY THINK THEY HAVE WITH SOFT DRINK SIZES AND THE FEDERAL BANK. I WILL LIVE, AND I AM THE ONLY ONE THIS ALIVE. AMEN.</b></div>
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<b>In every direction dimensionally I'm a mental defective turned bad ass. I not only see into other planes of reality, but I travel through them on a regular basis. I see who people are on all levels before I form any sort of judgement, always positive, and I hold my friends close and don't have enemies </b></div>
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<b>Dear God, I'm still here on this planet earth. Although I'm offended as shit by this point, I'm doing just as You have led me to do. </b></div>
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<b>They think the bars downtown get crazy with testosterone induced drunks? Well how about the demented antics of large rocks in space, traveling in packs with such speed that they can't possibly be stopped? </b></div>
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<b>Satanic cult holy bolt-cutter alien magnet transmitting telekinetic anti-phobia membrane packed memory cell awkward conversation formed awesomeness in the sense sucking soul life from the human specimens cranial and upper middle abdominal activity to hijack spirit energy balled into the core of this very universe only to collide it with the act of possible time lag colossal mind fever, burning human sweat like crude oil electrocuted to form a barrier in the shape of a tunnel aimed dead center down a black hole so the VCR of evolution and science can rewind itself 4th dimension-style, non linear-ly to the people around me but I know fucking better than they do what the course of this life force is headed to. It's because of they're own damn fault they are trapped in this synagogue of unbeknownst pain we are attempting to save them from, yet no one can tell what the true events happening really are. </b></div>
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<b>Life making breath taker sent up to meet the maker with a message in a whiskey bottle drunk by a drunk little more wept keeping torn shadows blast blasphemy riddle in the demons layer forfeited souls blackened and burned by the tide chemically collided with the sun, the largest star in the solar system but small to what is still out there until another one rips thru dimensions tearing this life we call our home in half, boys will be girls, girls will be boys, parents become their kids kids and the essence of true family is proven to stay strong after such a celestial attack from aliens, angels, another work of government, or simply a young genius mind gone suicidal sitting down to wish death upon the planet so hard from the padded cell when last time all that was granted was hurricane Katrina. It's all over the news. Nukes make me laugh. I will never travel to Norway because my job is here in this room to control space. Any threatening obstacle that comes near has to get passed my barrier stronghold of calculitic beams and trigonometric halos of dark power in order to do any damage whatsoever, and as long as I am alive this will never happen any more than it already does, and only because I fucking let it. Let the humans think extra terrestrial energy does not exist. Let them piss away time with bullshit social activities and mindless dronatic clusterfucks they call lives. Because their specimen minds are not capable of handling the reality of what's really going on, I am here to protect them. Amen. </b></div>
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Hurt Note Set lyrics</div>
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In every direction dimensionally I'm a mental defective turned bad ass. I not only see into other planes of reality, but I travel through them on a regular basis. I see who people are on all levels before I form any sort of judgement, always positive, and I hold my friends close and don't have enemies </div>
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Dear God, I'm still here on this planet earth. Although I'm offended as shit by this point, I'm doing just as You have led me to do. </div>
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They think the bars downtown get crazy with testosterone induced drunks? Well how about the demented antics of large rocks in space, traveling in packs with such speed that they can't possibly be stopped? </div>
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Satanic cult holy bolt-cutter alien magnet transmitting telekinetic anti-phobia membrane packed memory cell awkward conversation formed awesomeness in the sense sucking soul life from the human specimens cranial and upper middle abdominal activity to hijack spirit energy balled into the core of this very universe only to collide it with the act of possible time lag colossal mind fever, burning human sweat like crude oil electrocuted to form a barrier in the shape of a tunnel aimed dead center down a black hole so the VCR of evolution and science can rewind itself 4th dimension-style, non linear-ly to the people around me but I know fucking better than they do what the course of this life force is headed to. It's because of they're own damn fault they are trapped in this synagogue of unbeknownst pain we are attempting to save them from, yet no one can tell what the true events happening really are. </div>
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Life making breath taker sent up to meet the maker with a message in a whiskey bottle drunk by a drunk little more wept keeping torn shadows blast blasphemy riddle in the demons layer forfeited souls blackened and burned by the tide chemically collided with the sun, the largest star in the solar system but small to what is still out there until another one rips thru dimensions tearing this life we call our home in half, boys will be girls, girls will be boys, parents become their kids kids and the essence of true family is proven to stay strong after such a celestial attack from aliens, angels, another work of government, or simply a young genius mind gone suicidal sitting down to wish death upon the planet so hard from the padded cell when last time all that was granted was hurricane Katrina. It's all over the news. Nukes make me laugh. I will never travel to Norway because my job is here in this room to control space. Any threatening obstacle that comes near has to get passed my barrier stronghold of calculitic beams and trigonometric halos of dark power in order to do any damage whatsoever, and as long as I am alive this will never happen any more than it already does, and only because I fucking let it. Let the humans think extra terrestrial energy does not exist. Let them piss away time with bullshit social activities and mindless dronatic clusterfucks they call lives. Because their specimen minds are not capable of handling the reality of what's really going on, I am here to protect them. Amen. </div>
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Part Three:</div>
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It's so difficult to do something completely innovative and original in this day and age.</div>
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Dear god. Let every dimension ride out in climactic excellence and foreign abbreviation, give thanks for this thanksgiving I wouldn't be caught dead in the humble-less boozing holes of the land I started high school in 8 million times a fold told folklore spent timeless mind grinding hospital malnutritionistic manipulative man-Hell upon grieve sleezy hand broken grab-ass of time begone absent let alone the anger and frustration fuel land dormant signal to space, dream yet another quest quease out the consequences the sprinkler raining down rotting molten blood taken over by extra holy alien government mind taker earth quakingly shaken pattern path hasn't been around since the invention of these machines 300 years ago deeming earth so small it just another planet that time forgot. The Egyptians didn't look at their situation and slack due to the lack of iPhone, they built the fucking pyramids with their minds most of all. And taking that knowledge of self to the extreme leads me to the current time to make a decision. It's stick around to help let the specimens sip frobscottle or maybe I'll spend the next 392 thousand years walking a rope bridge half a parsec to the hammock that lies dead center of the barrel of one of the most majestically uncanny weapons the higher power has ever witnessed in the history of time and time infinitely. Hang the flags of the world at half mass before they disintegrate to the ground in toxic vapor for when it fires I will be the first specimen myself to get blasted into such nothing of an oblivion time will not possess the ability to follow the energy now contained in my vessel. Such a firearm would suck power from every civilization semi-universally close by just to fire one time, only used sparingly as to not put salamander baby specimens into life-long after life-long great depressions so poor for so much time it re-writes the only history they remember, making a whole small section of life in existence devastatingly down-tempo to die walking hand in hand with others filling infinite planets with suburban looking cities that never see any sort of sunlight whatsoever, so those born with the gift of mind-strength and mental endurance they get pulled away from their parental units at adolescence to start training in the ways of astronomical biology science know-how even with minimal technology and no pigment at all in any of their skin from the seemingly eternal darkness they spend the rest of their life in a lab, fighting and finding and finding and fighting their way to a solution to a problem they know not of even its existence nor can they fathom the righteous greatness of the solution. </div>
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think its crazy to recall almost any event in ur life; well how about flesh cells mechanically hardening to the point where you remember everything the energy of your atomic makeup does? Blacking out is only acceptable when out of heightened stream of consciousness, not when from lack of sobriety. Stars fall, planets crack, humans fail the test and black holes just plain suck the fucking time constraint out of polar think ways in such a big gap of space that when the being crawls out of it eyes never ever even existed to witness it. Take a load off of a busy prison sentence schedule of the mind and buff those chickens til they bawl ripe with the rooster, for it is this 11th day, they will die by the sword. Amen.</div>
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Part Four:</div>
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If everyone in existence became famous, all Hell would break loose.</div>
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Dear God. Although time continues to happen folded over in layers deep still constrained in human bs riddles taken hand over hand and fist over tiny fist the race continues to slap hate wrecked in fate less behold someone were to come along and kill the cows that hold timeless activity down let alone the drones that keep people from thinking out loud written in the blood stone of a bliss taken hold of conscious feelings grasped hit men make hits in the lab of God... Weak children thinking they're tough ride around in red and blue wagons with contraband of what their interpretation of sinful shit consists of, and when it all boils down to push coming to shove the shovels come out, kids get spanked in the face with reality and if anyone denies this is happening then they get the bull with the horns in one foul shoot ride up the wreck of their soul take down lack pool crapshoot nap taking lap filled with stool specimen like hell craft boat ride when all dogs go to heaven presents painful memories memo'd to douchebags working inthe corporate world imagining life in post production is real but the bios can fucking choke a donkey to its born day decided to go riding on the greenway jogging in conversation I walk my dog ad overhear something so fucking stupid I can't help but bust out laughing making complete awkward somewhat inkling of potential conversation turn awesome inthe sense that the upper middle cranial activity just blasted its way through the mother of black holes mastered less than a flick patterned out go ahead and give me a gimmick or a fuck of a hard time, fuck you, take your passed life atomic lame ass craziness pulled out of a car and beaten to a pulp frictionless fragment imagined by some mono monk locked deep in a Tibetan cave learning levitation activity activated pull porker stuffing insanity out the bridges malfunctioning beautifully point of exhaustion evolved around stupid ass kids having bike wars let alone the kind adults have with bullshit cold wars leading to heat pulled gravitational acceptance land of the forefathers hath grapple down the takes corn rowed into a ball of beams scroll down to the core of every direction combined, heck. Gravity couldn't pull close two infected dry humps of an occasion that lacks circular vains tampered with to make bombs blow a sink up with puke and let out a tiny cry of embarrassment before the last sound ever made gets lost down the shithole of oblivious bliss. Obviously shit can't happen without chugging down energy coming from a ways down the ladder filed heavily storefront crashed in the display case by a white van like a fucking baseball bat, WHAM crack the bloodlines Jesus left as code to follow rallying biblical adventures called bullshit by children wearing fake paper horns yet sharp at the point like terminators butthole, rips can't machanicalize proprietary gratitude sucking cathedor like a straw through blood mud killed a heartbeat lust makes beat with the best feeling the earthly world finds capable of, dream a little dream for the old beast of peace made to stone statute never saluted by anyone capable of making sense of the situation. If beat bumps like jumps table less homeful men living in a cardboard box by the hated ocean full of sea donkeys, then craniums cracked full of semen blister out to compression tactics that make all the bitches swallow the bile liquid whether man, women, child or bathroom living catapistle, nothing is more beautiful than a 10,000 year old being living on a planet alone its whole life with no mirrors finally seeing its fucking face for the first time. Now THATs fucking beauty, 8 millions of grab ass days filled with darkness after the mines go off in the center of the earth's core that demons had gone back in time to plant before earth even existed making able to put in such a place, blow 8 grand on tampons used the fuck out of a parking ramp playing tongue fondle cut out while cast the right eye when looking into a women's eye thinking sinful ass thinker paths full of bad intention even if the weight steams off in the grinder a kiss to the soul lost in darkness awaits...</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15154342245696908113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441478402560447411.post-2196306210558931022014-08-25T18:01:00.000-05:002014-08-25T18:01:45.914-05:00DOOMER (LIVE)<br />
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<b>TIME TIME TIME TIME TIME TIME TIME TIME</b></div>
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<b>KILL TIME MASS BEAT</b></div>
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<b>KILL TIME WEAPON HEAT</b></div>
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<b>MAKE HELL HEAT WRATH</b></div>
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<b>BURN HELL WITH MATH</b></div>
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<b>ESCAPE THE TOWER DOWN WINDING STAIRCASE THE MIND CHASES CLOAKED HOODED GUNMAN CASTING SPELLS FROM THE CEMETERY MAGIC LIES WITHIN FINGERTIPS SORCERER DOOMS PASSED DAYWALKING LEG EATING PATHEDON ROOM CATCHER SPIRIT CRASH HOLY WICKEDING PICKFUL FOUL SPREADING SPEARHEAD OF SAVIOR BLESSED RANDOM AS THE ACT OF THE FORGERY BY WHICH IT STANDS, DIVISE PLANS MAKE WEAPONS USED CONSCIOUSLY IN ORDER TO GET THEM TO THINK THE SAME WAY INTENTIONALLY FORMING TENSION INTERNAL POT-HOLE GAP IN ONE PROCESS CALLED UPON REGULARLY BEATEN DEATH OF THE MIND RAY COOKING BATTLE PLAN LOST DROWN DELIVERED FINDING HAPPINESS IN A LAND NO PHYSICAL BEING DARES TO ENTER, LEAVE THE BODY BEHIND FOR WHERE SPACE BRINGS US THE FEELING OF THE GALAXY OR EVEN GREATER ECSTACY TIMES A THOUSAND TINY LITTLE STITCHES OF FAITH HOLD TOGETHER WHAT IS LEFT OF THE RUINS OUR FALLEN GOD HAS LEFT FOR US TO STAND GUARD UPON</b></div>
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<b>TIME BEAST CLIFF DROP</b></div>
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<b>BRIDGE BREAK BEAST STOP</b></div>
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<b>GRASP HEAT CLOCK MODE</b></div>
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<b>BURN SMOKE MORSE CODE</b></div>
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<b>RUN DOWN TO THE RIVER OF LIGHT AND CAPTURE WHAT CAN BE PUT IN A BACKPACK THEN LOADED INTO A CANNON AND BLASTED TO LIGHT SPEED TO SPACESHIP ON THE OTHER SIDE OF SOMETHING THE MIND CANNOT COMPREHEND NOR GRASP ANY DISTANCE REMOTELY CLOSE TO ITS TRAVEL. LAY LINES JUMP OVER EACH OTHER TWEAKING FREQUENCY ATTACK CODE LITERAL RAY OF UNCANNY POWER AIMED AT THE MOST ARROGANT OF ITS MERCY NOT EVEN KNOWING IT EXISTS TIL TRIGGER PULLS AND PEOPLE FIND THEMSELVES IN A SITUATION OF CONFUSED TORMENT AND AWKWARD MOMENTUM PULLING THIER EARTH INFINITELY SPIRAL PATH STRING THEORUM BREATH CALCULITIS WORLD MAKING NEWS TIL BROKEN LKE A HEART IN ABUSIVE CIRCUMSTANCES, LOOK TO THE SKY AND SEE NOTHING FOR WHAT HAS JUST COME HAS ALREADY HIT LIKE MACHINE KILL POWEROFF FACE DOWN IN THE EGOTISTICAL MINDSET PUNKED TO AN OBLIVIONAL BLACK HOLE WHERE LIGHT CANNOT ESCAPE LET ALONE A REPUTATION, SUNKEN FOREVER INSIDE MAKES HEAVENLY SELF BELIEVE IN EXISTANCE PURE TO THE FORM NATURE RECREATES CELLS MISCRANT HELLACIOUS BEING FROM FLOOR TO CEILING STANDS IN THE CORNER STARING AT YOU LIKE A NIGHT SKY FULL OF STARS ALL AIMED AT THE EARTH THO WE HAVE A NEGATIVE AMOUNT OF SECONDS TO STOP THEM. </b></div>
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<b>PULL FROM THE MIND</b></div>
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<b>HATE LOVE STOP TIME</b></div>
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<b>TRAGIC HOLY MESS LAKE</b></div>
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<b>YOUR MINDS AT STAKE</b></div>
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<b>THIS IS NOT THE END OF ANYTHING. THIS IS NOT THE BEGINNING OF ANYTHING THAT HASNT ALREADY HAPPENED, BEEN DONE, OCCURRED, THOUGHT OF AS A WINDING STREET PASS OVER MOUNTAIN OVER RIVER LEADING TO LAKE AT NIGHT BURNING CABIN GETTING SHOCKED BY GODLY ELECTRICITY COMING FROM THE CLOUDLESS SKY IGNITES SPIRIT SOLDIERS SPREAD ENERGY EVENLY THROUGHOUT MULTI-COUNTRY BATTLEFIELD BEAT WEAK IN THE DAY WAR BRINGS TO THE BEST MOOD FIGHT UNTIL THE LAST GENERALS ALIVE HAVE TO SHOOT THEMSELVES TO FULFILL THE GOAL AND SAVE CIVILIAN UPBRINGING BACK HOME LEAVING SCHOOL CHILDREN FATHERLESS AND ANY MAN THAT HAD NOT GONE TO WAR IS BEING LAUGHED AT BY WARRIORS NOW IN THE AFTERLIFE PROTECTING THEIR WIVES WITH DEMENTED GHOST FIGURES PLAYED LIKE PUPPETS SISSY MAN BANKRUPT IN LOVE STORAGE EMPTY DISINTEGRATING SELF ESTEEM AND NO CHANCE FOR REDEMPTION CUZ THE NEXT WAR IS INTENDED FOR WHEN THE LITTLE BOYS GROW UP AND LEARN TO FIGHT </b></div>
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<b><a href="https://soundcloud.com/gravebomb/doomer">DOOMER RECORDING OF LIVE PRACTICE</a></b></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15154342245696908113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441478402560447411.post-38488411278197700502014-08-25T17:56:00.002-05:002014-08-25T17:56:27.777-05:008 MIL (LIVE)<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 18px;">
<b>8 MILLION TIMES PULLED AWAY WHEN ONLY TWICE A FORCE BEEN FOUND, HUSTERING BALMTASTIC FRANTIC PANNED PANIC-CAKE OF OBSURD BULLET FACE PUNCH, TERROR DOLL THOUGHT TO BE REAL BY THOSE WHO CANNOT HELP BUT TO FOLLOW STAY BLISSFUL IN GOLDEN EYES THAT IMPEACH THOUGHTS, THAOUGHTS TO BE TAKEN LIKE WALLETS FROM TEENAGERS DOWNTOWN PASSED OUT IN ALLEYWAYS ON ECSTACY, THOUGHTS TORTURED LIKE HELL IN HTE WELL, STARS PULLING FROM THE UNIVERSE POWERTRIPPING SOLAR SYSTEMS INFINITLEY SMALLER CALL UPON REMOTE LAYERS FRANKENSTEINED THROUGH ALLEYWAYS OF THE BLACK HOLE, CREATED MISINCEPTIONALLY AGAINST PARALLEL UNIFORM FLOWS TUCKED SO DEEP INTO NOTHING AND NOTHING AT ALL, CANNOT BE FORGED WITH ANY SORT OF BRILLIANT MINDSCAPE YET AUDITORILLLY THINGS LURK IN HTE DISTANCE FRAIL BEING CONCEAVING PERCEPTION MIND TEARING DOWN WEAPON AGAINST SOCIETY GONE, IT HAPPENED, IT IS HAPPENING, WICKED TORN LOOM ON DOOMSDAY BLESS-ED WRECKED MALFUNTION OF TIME LOOMS BOOMING UP BORN DAY TRICKLING PASSED EXPERIENCES CAN WAIT FOR A SECOND IN LAPSE OF THE ATOM GETS HOT HEAT HEAVED HEAVEN HATH PRESENCE BE GONE, A MINUTE PASSED SO LONG AGO IT ÇÅN'T POSSIBLY BE REMEMBERED LAYING BUSY GRASS ON STREETS OF PASSION BUSY GROWING LAST ARTILLERISTIC BATTLE CASTLE STANDING UPON THE MINES BENATH THE GROUND LIKE POTENTIAL PORTAL PATHWAYS CONSISTING OF SOUND BARRIER BLOCKING GOVERNOR SHOVELING MOTHERSHIPS SANDSTORMS OF GRAVEL BREAK WINDOWS FASTER THAN ONE CAN ENCOUNTER YET THINK ESCAPE OPTIONS CONTROL COMMANDING REPRIMAND, THE FALLEN PIECE FELL DOWN IN HOLY WAYS, EVER A STORY TO LOCK UP AND NOT TELL, TO NOT KILL, TO BE WELL, BUT THEN TO GO SELL SHORT LIVED EXPERIENCE MACK BUSTED WEATHER HATING SHADOWS BETWEEN BEAMS OF LIGHT PUTTING DOWN KILLFIRE FROM SPACE TO GROUND, FROM BOX TO CLOWN FREAKISH HAIL THE NIGHT THE CHILDREN WERE ABDUCTED BY SAVIORS PASSING OUT RELIGIOUS BIBLICAL TORTURE CANDY HOLLOW TRUTH PERISHABLE CO-CONSTRUC†IVE THERAPY MOOD SWINGS DOWN LIKE A GUILLOTINE ON SUCH A NICE DAY TO EVERYTONE ELSE BUT TO THIS THIS PISSES TIED WISHES CLICKED TINKER DOWN THE TOILET LIKE EVERYONE ELSE'S DREAMS NON EXISTANT TO HEIGHTEN MIND SKY SOBRIETY CONQUEST SAID BEAMS, LAUGHTER AND LAUGHTER AND LAUGHTER AND PAIN, HOLOCAULISTIC CHRISTMAS STORY TELLING ANGST OF THE SEASON SESSIONED ONE MOMENT TO THE OCCASION, DUMBED DOWN ON PERSUASIVE ACT TAZED IN THE BRAIN BY THE LEPER PRINCE BANNED FROM HOLY WATER TIL CAN KICKING KING ROTS FIRST. </b></div>
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<b>SO SAID TO THE KING IN HIS SHIVERLESS WAYS, BLASS RIDING HIGH AGAINST GOD LIKE EXPANDING BLASHPENOUSLY BACKWARD CAPPED RAPTURE NESTS BLESSED IN POTHOLES DIG DEEP FORM IT OUT CREEP-LIKE PATTERN HAPPEN TORN LADDER OF JACOB SACRED EXTRA TERRESTRIIAL LAKE BENEATH HUNDREDS OF THUNDER RUNNING LEAKS BREAK THE CAPTAIN CAPPING TAN LAPPPING DAMNED HERDS CATTLING BAD LIKE BREAKING BANJOS CALL PSYCHO POP AND PILL CONSUMING MONSTER HEIGHT OF MAGIC CONTESTANT FANTASIZING BALLISTIC STAT RENEWED GOVERNMNET WAR PILE PIECES THAT PICTURE PEACE NEVER AGAIN DULL NODE-ING CRANIUM TEMPER FRAIL WITTS OF A ROCK, MOUTH OF A CHICKEN PIECE OF SHICKERING SHACLE TIL TACKLED BY EX HIGH SCHOOL FOOTBALL PLAYER POLICE OFFICER HUMAN BEINGS RELIVING HIGH SCHOOL ADOLESCENT ADRENALINE RUSH MOMENTS OF COWARDLY BRAVERY TICKING TIME BOMB TO EXPLODE WOULD JUST BE THE BEGINNING BEGUN LAST CRAVING DANCE STARVING LUNATIC, TELL THE POLICE TO PUT THEIR F'ING PIDDY ARSE GUNS AWAY, IM A HUMAN BEING TOO, BLOOD PUMPING HEART SOARING DREAM CHASING WEAPON OF CRIMINAL DAMAGE TO THE VERY WELL BEING OF YOUR PERSONAL BELINGINGS IF YOU DONT LET ME WALK ON BY, ITS A NICE DAY EVEN THO ITS RAINING BUCKETS, OH WAIT, YOU SEE THAT THING IN THE SKY AIMED STRAIGHT AT YOUR HEAD? ITS PASSED WORSE LAST DIRT TRANS FERTILE CASTER PER MILE HUNTING FOR WEAKER LIFE AND SUCCEEDING AT SUCKNG BUT NO WORRIES CUZ I JUST BLASTED IT INTO NON-EXISTANCE WITH WORDS</b></div>
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<a href="https://soundcloud.com/gravebomb/8mil">HEAR THE AUDIO OF LIVE PRACTICE RECORDING</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nXc1Y3slLtA">8 MIL SASH VIDEO [NO VOCALS]</a></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15154342245696908113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441478402560447411.post-52578644807289751862014-04-20T02:46:00.001-05:002014-04-20T02:46:33.622-05:00J & E & Poland, Turkey, Saudi supreme conversation pull away<span style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">I want to say I'm done, but I'm not. </span><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">I'd like to say I can't when technically I really can, I say I don't want it to stop in a flash when realized final times are approaching this man. </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">No phone will be able to reach me as no landline connects this dimension, no Internet bloodline messenger instantly stands in hold of connection lost wasted and wasted in being lost sand in time forest of Beauty in inner meaning. </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">Constantly pulling down recognized only as being pulled up in the mind can only go so far for one soul no matter the kind or the type, human being or nailed shut squeaking clean looking for flesh while floating around the gulf then running the forest of time as a wolf in the moonlight or better yet, </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">northern lights or northern lights of hell, </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">I take on the storm as concussions ring bells stab a doorway through soul-like embarrass the dwelling dignity stagnant lapse redone in pure form to witness the sins going on in the dorm that pull triggers with barrels locking lips, </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">take a ride thru the tunnel the getaway van dips thru dimensional vessel away from the tomb of the devil, </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">the only way out is the womb, </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">tho memories lost the minds been re-set, and now the energy's better you can bet, tho going thru instance experience weighed upon energy matured has also delayed so pass on the shit talking meaningless drama and think of a time once lost, comma. </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">Dot. Dot. Dot. To be continued.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15154342245696908113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441478402560447411.post-69067893524443298982014-03-02T21:54:00.000-06:002014-03-04T00:20:30.053-06:00weapon of words<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 21px;">
<b>11-1-13</b></div>
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<b>LET WEAPONS OF WORDS FALL PATH TO AFTERMATH AFTER THE MATHEMATICAL SIGNAL HATH REPRESENT ITSELF, BEINGS BE GONE AFTER SAID ORCHESTRA IS DONE AND THEY ALL GO HOME LESSON LEARNED. PEACE FILLED SITES OF GRAVES HALLOWED BE THY KINGDOM REPENT A FOLDIE IN THE SHAPE OF A DINOSAUR BURNED WITH THE MAGIC ATTEMPTED TO BE CAST UPON HIGH SOCIETY WITCHCRAFT SOUTHERN TRENDY BITCHES KILL FOR THE PORNOGRAPHY TESTED CELL-BEST SELIBUT HACKER LAY DOWN YOUR GUN BY YOUR FEET, PUT YOUR HEAD BETWEEN YOUR KNEES AND KISS YOUR ASS KINDLY FAREWELL BLAST OUT OF HELLBENT WICKED TORN CATASTROPHIC PILL OF ANNIHALATED BEAUTY, THEY PRIDE ON WHAT THEY WEAR ON THIS DAY SO MUCH TIME SPENT GATHERING HAPPEN SHELL OF A CLAM CRACKED IN HALF BEATEN OUT OF ITS HOME FESTERED AND TESTED TO SUN MAGNETUDE DONE RIGHT FOREFRONT KEEP BURYING THE LIVING OF THIS NIGHT. BURIED IN BS IS ALL I SEE SO I NEED TO SEE PASSED TO WHAT REALLY BE, VIOLENCE RUINED BY PEACEFUL SOCIAL WARFARE TRAUMATIZED BY LIFE PASSED FORGIVEN SIN NOT OR TO BE SINNED AGAINST CORRECTLY, OR IN A WAY ONE CAN HANDLE THE BOX OF QUESTIONS LIT UP LIKE A PSYCHO RUNNING RAMPANT DOWN A NEW YORK CITY SIDEWALK OF GOVERNMENT LET EVERYONE KNOW WHAT'S WRONG FEEL NO PAIN BUT PAIN FELT RAIN CAN'T DEAL YET WASH AWAY ATTITUDE BREAKING BREAD WITH JESUS STILL GRATITUDE POKES AT OUR ORA'S MORALS LIKE CANDY TO A DOG AND THE RABBITS SCURRY TOGETHER AS A FAMILY TO GOD'S CHEESE ON A LOG THE MONOLOGUE OBITUARY TIME CLOCK SHRANK TIME SHOCKED CRANK MINE SHAFT DRANK FROM THE CLAY CROCK SPUN SO WELL, SO WHISPERING WORDS SO DAMAGING HELL, BREAKING DOWN WISDOM AS SCIENCE OF LIFE, SILENTLY SLICING SOUL SOLID KNIFE, HAPPEN AGAIN... YOU'LL WALK DOWN THAT ROAD OF BS THAT YOU'VE HEARD OF BUT NEVER BEEN TOLD BY A TANGIBLE FIGURE TIL DEATH DO YOU RISE, YOU HATE THE SOBRIETY LOCKED IN YOUR EYES THOUGH THE SKIES BITTER RED BITE DOWN WRATH ON WHATS SAID YET NO ONE COULD EVER IMAGINE YOUR HEAD, ACTIVITY PRAISE SELF DESTRUCT BY POISON LIVER, THE LIGHTS OF THE CITY SHINE FROM BENEATH THE RIVER, AND ALL THAT'S LEFT IS THE TICKER, SO TICKING AWAY STICKER BOMB STINKING TIL DAY KICKING KICKERS FILLED SIN HOLY GHOST RECTUMS IN BUCKETS TO STACK DUCKETS PAID OUT LUCKY DUMB ASS DONKEY GRASS FED HONKY TONK JASS MASTER BASS PLAYING RACE KILLER OF RACISM MAN YER SCHIZM TORRENT POLLUTED WEBSTREAM CARRY THE CAKE ON YOUR BACK LIKE A MILLION BEAMS TOLD HEAVILY ACTION PLACED HEAVEN SOUTH FRACTION OF A SECOND GOES BY TO REACT HOSTILE FRAGMENT REACTION TIME IS NOT REAL SO NEITHER IS GOD, DON'T TALK SO MUCH TIL YOU CHEW YOUR SOD, BODIES OF FLESH WASTE TIME IN THE END, A FLOOD OF THE MIND MUST HAVE BEEN ROUND THE BEND. </b></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15154342245696908113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441478402560447411.post-82042527085561519272014-03-02T21:50:00.003-06:002014-03-02T21:50:32.202-06:00"everyone's the same"<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">
9-18-06</div>
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I was in the rear passenger side of a station wagon with my brother driving and his two of his friends riding beside and in front of me. It was getting dark and we were going to one of his buddy's parent's cabin or campsite and about half an hour into the trip, my brother was like "You know what we need to do!?" and they pulled bottles of beer out of a freezer bag sitting between the front seats. I told them not to drink and drive and I yelled at them and was screaming to put them back but they continued to down bottle after bottle for the remainder of the ride and by the time we got to the campsite/cabin, my brother could barely drive and was barely staying on the gravel road in the dark. As soon as we got out I pushed the dude sitting in front of me and then we started throwing punches. Our arms were blocking eachothers punches until I put him in a headlock and started drilling him in the face as hard as I could. He felt empty and fake like a manequin and so I figured I could stop. </div>
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The next thing I knew I was home in my parent's garage telling my mom that I had lost respect for my brother and his friends but I didn't tell her what they did to lose my respect. Then I started to hear this creepy "Wobble-wobble-wobble-wobble!" and before I knew it I was in some dreamland and there were these little figures in black cloaks and Scream masks jumping in front of my vision and scaring the shit out of me. I started screaming and I heard my mom in the garage yelling at me to tell her what was going on like I was having a seizure or heart attack and I came out of if and went to my room. It was dark in my room, very early in the morning, so I set up my laptop and started working on my book titled "A Miracle Gone Wrong." I was trying to lay it out on my computer with the sentences like tracks in Pro Tools and then I started hearing a staticky radio station coming from above my bed headboard. It was some sort of church station and they were doing worship and my dad came to check on me and I was setting up a program in my laptop so that it would record the church station underneath chapter 7 in my book. I was hearing all sorts of sounds I could use for the audio version of my book on this radio station and the meter in the recording program was implying that the signal was fairly hot but I asked my dad if he could hear it and he was just like "No!" and he watched in amazement as I quickly wrote all the stuff down that I was hearing. Then my brother came in and watched me work for a little while and I heard these heavy metal/punk songs that were mindblowingly good and I couldn't believe that no one else could hear them. I kept talking back to the radio station and other dialogue and my brother and dad were watching in amazement for a long time. I remember envisioning the characters in the book walking on this big bridge or walkway through tall rocks in the mist of a cloudy day. I frantically worked on my book and then went to bed and my family watched me to see if I slept okay, and I went into a dream where I was watching Stephen King's version of my book as if he had come up with a similar idea at the same time....</div>
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"In a world where everyone's family is the same..." the narrator with the low and raspy voice said, and I saw this hockey arena where there were mothers and little sisters lining the bleachers every other person and they all looked the same but with different colors. They were all dressed like they were from Sesame street, the moms had the same "saucer-head" haircut just different colors, and they all had powdery white faces with dark circles around their eyes. The moms were cheering for their kids and the little sisters just sat there and grinned, and all the moms had the same type of voice and personality about their cheering like they were all from the same parents at the same time. Then the big sisters came skating out onto the rink. Same thing. All of them were named Allie and they all looked the same just different colors, and they behaved exactly the same too just different timing. Then all the older brothers came skating out and were the same type of boy. We started playing hockey for a while and i kept missing the plastic puck whenever it came past me. We played for a while and then the players exitted the rink and I was like, "okay, this is the first part of the book, but what happens that's so bad that they have to go to a place like... [the one in the second part of the book/movie]???" and I started to hear the "Wobble-wobble-wobble-wobble!" and the same little demons took over my vision and i started screaming there on the rink and no one knew what to do because it was different behavior than all the other older brothers. Then I realized I was sleeping so I tried to scream but it didn't work. When I finally did scream, I opened my eyes and saw the window of my apartment and realized that there was no one to hear my cries....</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15154342245696908113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441478402560447411.post-39128627981109747632014-03-02T21:49:00.000-06:002014-03-02T21:49:07.401-06:00really f'n scared<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">
9-24-05</div>
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Okay... I am numb as i am typing this... it's 6:43am... Now I know that I am awake becuase I am actually typing instead of writing in a scroll... I just relieved a foot cramp: i am so tense... Where do I begin?</div>
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I just took a piss and while I was at it I looked to my right and into the mirror, my face is blushed and beaten and my eyes are squinty and red with so much pain that it looked like tears were forming in their bottoms: I looked like I had just seriously been through an adrenaline rushed battle of some gigantic war, and then I just sort of "transported" out of it in an instant but it is so fresh in my mind that my heart is still racing so fast that it feels like it is either just vibrating or not pumping at all...</div>
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I look to my window, It's getting lighter out but theoretically, a tall winged gargoyle looking demon could walk by on the sidewalk and look in my window and I swear to God I will rip my fucking eyelids off this time in hopes that I am doing the same thing in my sleep in my real life and hopefully the pain will wake me up before the demon gets me and i will never sleep again...</div>
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I was in the kitchen of my parents house talking to my mom and asking her for money to live off of or I need something and she was busy racing around getting ready for work or getting ready to go somewhere and couldn't listen to me...</div>
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Then I was at Hyland and I felt that everyone knew that I was one of the best snowboarders there. I stayed humble, didn't let anything go to my head, but I could sense the people talking about me once they saw and recognized me as I walked along the bottom of the park in winter casual wear with a jacket and jeans. There was a big wooden table top that they were having a competition about and I watched myself huck some double-backflp spinny maneuver off of it and people had done cooler stuff but not a lot, I was still up there with the good guys...</div>
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I was lost downtown where the trains ran under the walkways to the parking garages where the buses usually are by the target center by the Quest where you can get on 394 and they were big underground high tech trains like in a futuristic New York and I got off and was looking for my mom and sister and brother. I walked through a door and found them but we were all going in different directions and couldn't talk much, but I didn't know where I was going. We had plans but I don't remember what they were right now...</div>
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I was on a little kiddy-train ride on a very dusty and cloudy day out in these mountains with a bunch of people that I supposedly knew or worked with or something and we curved around some kindergardeners doing arts and crafts... I wanted to help them... I talked to their teacher, who was my age, about the kids...</div>
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I was in a story about a rich family and their life, it took place in Europe in the days of Castlevania and it was in a big mansion that was old fashioned but looked Dutch or something. My family was there along with a bunch of my brother's friends and we had to move all these toys and old sporting goods out of one part of the house for them to be picked up. It was like there was a store like a ToysR Us and a Sportmart underneath the big mansion, which had to be as big as a large corporate building. </div>
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There were girls and guys and aunts and uncles and parents of many families, and the mansion was so big and old that as I walked around exploring it, I only ran into one of them at a time. In one of the rooms near the main floor, it was large like a small gym with a lower ceiling and it had a very dark brown wood floor, and me and the boys that were affiliated with the rich families were training for the military. We just did jumping jacks and standing exercises for about an hour and then we continued our lesson from the day before on how to kill someone with our bare hands. Then, when I was getting dressed into my clothes in another big room after I had showered, I had on my dark blue jeans and my black blousy shirt and I was taller and more bulky than usual. A lot stronger. </div>
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There was this girl that my brother knew that was trying to move the same things as me and she followed me around and annoyed me for a long time and in that long time, I kept running into my mother and trying to focus on her and talk to her and move my tasks to her so this girl would leave me alone. I even had to avoid her at the train station where all of these other girls were asking me about kathy and they were kathy's friends and when the work was almost done and all of the stuff was transported into the big "moving machine" I was racing to get to the machine before this girl and I got so annoyed that I stomped her off the pulley system that she was hanging on and started punching her in the face until her neck broke and she died. Then I was walking around the house, and I was a vampire and had to kill but I didn't want to, but when this girl walked by me in the house I bit into her fleshy neck and tasted her warm muscle and warm blood and I almost puked. Then I beat some guy to death in another room and I felt even worse! I couldn't believe that I was actually killing people because it felt so wrong! Then I crossed paths with this bigger girl in a black sweater and I told her that I was going to kill her right before I grabbed her head and bent it backwards until I felt her neck crack and she fell backwards to the floor. I was then back on the train in the mountains and we were going past all these tables in a grassy open area. The atmosphere was gray and foggy and cloudy and these girls my age were teaching the kindergardeners how to put puzzles together at the tables and I walked up to the last table which had a bucket of cookies on it but then someone on the train told me [reminded me] that the cookies were for the little kids. Then I was in this big corporate construction site surrounded by these big structures of metal that were being made into big business bildings out in the middle of nowhere, again with a dark gray sky. </div>
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The kindergardeners tables and kiddy projects were there and through the puzzles I began to chart my trick mixing and beat juggling strategies in a notebook, or they were already charted and I was looking at them and studying them for a while, trying to understand how they were documented. They looked like family trees: black lines connecting capital A's and B's and 1's and 2's and names of records and times but most of all it was black lines telling which led to which and so on... </div>
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then I was playing this computer came, it was in real life but while it was going on I was behind a black PC keyboard, and it was a game like twisted metal except we ran around on foot trying to pick up weapons and kill eachother; me and all the construction workers of this corporate construction site. Mike the meth addict was there and teling me to hit the space bar, which i kept doing, to shoot everyone as best as I could. </div>
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At some point in time, I was at the big mansion in the same room that me and the young guys did the military training in, and I was recollecting how we were to kill people. I heard symptoms telling me that killing was wrong, and yet I knew people that killed other poeple. I knew that these guys had gotten into fights and killed the other guy at the end of the fight, and I was around them every day! I suddenly became paranoid that they werent my friends or could stop being my friend at any time and get mad and kill me! I was back at the construction site with the gigantic red structures and there were explosions and fires all around me and demons that looked like big light gray dragons with wings and were about 20 feet tall were walking around killing everyone and flying in the sky. I ran from them through the dust and dirt that made up the ground and hopped a pile of construction garbage made up of drywall and concrete and pipe and just waste that is left over when building buildings, and there was a phone booth looking thing, except a little bigger than a phone booth, more like a crane operating station [cockpit] where the guy operated the crane except without the crane. It was just sititng there by these piles of wasted and unused material and dirt, and there was this dirty dark gray sleeping bag laying on the ground on the other side of the piles that I got into and zipped up over my head to hide from the demon that was walking 30 feet in front of the sleeping bag. Then I realized I must be dreaming. I closed my eyes but could hear the demon coming closer to the sleeping bag by it's footsteps in the dirt, and then it sort of batted at me like it was a dinosaur smelling me. My heart was beating out of it's chest i was so scared, i was dirty and my hands were dirty but I put them over my eyes and chanted to myself "Just wake up." Everything got quiet for just a moment and i figured that I was in another world, awake, but when i opened my eyes I was still inside the dirty sleeping bag but there was no sign of the demons in my senses of hearing or smell, so I threw back the sleeping bag cover from my face and I was still in the same world of the red stuctured construction site but the demon was gone. I then knew that I was awake and this was the real world and I had to document everything that was happening becuase the rest of the world would have to be warned. I got out of the sleeping bag and reached in through the window of the crane cockpit and opened the locked door from the inside, then before I pulled open the door, I pulled an old, dusty and wrinkled steno pad and a pen out the window, then I opened the door and sat on all of the garbage on the seat and wrote with the pad on the steering wheel and large levers. </div>
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I first tried to write: The city of the dead...</div>
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but the pen was dead. I scribbled it around on the corner of the page until it drew circles and then I wrote again, over the mere letters scratched faintly in the page: </div>
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The city of the dead...</div>
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Every man that has killed another person is DAMNED...</div>
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then I wrote some stuff like:</div>
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Demons are taking over the world</div>
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this is judgement day if I ever saw the END</div>
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People be warned, that GOD has put us to this</div>
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I have to go now and find my family...</div>
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Warn your families...</div>
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Then the demons started coming back so I grabbed the notebook, got out of the crane cockpit and quickly climbed into the sleeping bag again to hide. This time the demons, who were extremely fast, knew right where I was and started biting me through the sleeping bag and laughing at me for being so stupid for hiding in the sleeping bag. As I felt their jaws on my sides and arms and legs and skull, I knew that this was the end, I would learn a lot as this would be my slow and painful death, there was nothing I could do but just get eaten up by them. I put my arms up and tried to fend off their bites from inside the sleeping bag and protect my vital organs, and protect the writing that i had done...</div>
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As I was still punching the blanket at random to put up as much of a fight as I could, my mom pulled the blanket off my head and wondered what I was doing. I was in my room, dark wood floors, dark wood outlining the row of windows that ran across the wall all the way, all the way around the large room, and I could see that it was very early in the morning as the whispy clouds in the sky looked dark blue but the sunrise was hot pink in the distance. I only looked for a second, then I pulled the notebook out and insisted that somehow I knew that the world was ending. I read to her what I had written, and she blew if off like it was nothing. She said that I had a bad dream and after breakfast she is going to take me to the hospital, not to worry, until she looked out the far wall and saw a gray dragon-looking demon staring at us from outside, when she screamed [one of the most painful noises I could ever hear] my heart again beat out of my chest to the point where I couldn't breath, and then I wondered if I was really awake even still, so just to check, I grabbed my eyelids, knowing that the end of the world was upon me, and I lifted them off my eyes. They felt like clay, I looked into gray blindness, and then my mind did a somersault and I realized that I was holding my eyelids with my hands over my eyes in my soft bed, in my apartment, in uptown Minneapolis. My heart still racing as I knew for certain that I had been awake for at least five minutes, but this time I wasn't wearing the dirty hooded sweatshirt and jeans, I wasn't dirty and dusty and sweaty, I was in my boxers, and the sheets felt cold on my skin as if the clothes had just disintegrated off my body. As my eyes felt like they were just waking up and were full of sleep, I realized only at this time that I had been dreaming all along, and I didn't have my vital writing that I did in the crane cockpit about the demons, but since I read the first two lines to my mom when I woke up the first time, i remember generally what they were about like it is life and death, burned to the essence of my inner soul... </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15154342245696908113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441478402560447411.post-78325377198846189192014-02-28T02:48:00.001-06:002014-02-28T02:48:06.748-06:00"EYEDEA DREAM"<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">
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I was at school and it was this huge white room that was all run down and there was some sort of show going on on this stage in the front of it, like a seminar with the teachers, and all the students were trouble making white trash dressed in winter clothes. The teachers were giving this award to this guy that looked like my dad's friend Bud and there was something that he did that was a good way to get the kids attention, like using a puppet or something but I can't remember what it was. At the other end of this white, super high ceilinged gymnasium there were these large wooden shelves that looked like they could have been in the movie "The Hobbit" and there were drinks like bottles of mountain dew and powerades but all of them were opened and at least sipped out of; most of them were almost gone. </div>
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The next thing I knew I was at my parents house in the office and it hadn't been remodeled yet, it was how it was before the remodeling, and I was in the office when my mom handed me the landline phone and I knew it was Eyedea. I could barely understand him on the phone but after so many words of static, I got the just that he wanted to try out my new microphone and have me record him at his house. Like I said, I could barely understand him, but I tried not to let him know that I could barely understand him. I asked him for directions to his house and all I could make out him saying was Washburn 88th. For some reason I knew that that was by the High School in Maple Grove [but not really] and it was off county road 30, so I asked him how to get there from County road thirty, and he seemed to get a little more frustrated but still gave me directions. He told me "Yamaha 80th." He had been cutting out like a mo-fo the whole conversation and he sounded like a ghost but I recognized his voice at some parts; he talked with a lot lower tone than when he rapped on his cd's. </div>
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So me and Kathy [my girlfriend] went over to his house only to find that it was a huge mansion. There were people all over the place that seemed to be Eyedea's friends and all of their eyes were sunken in like they were on drugs but everyone seemed happy. I talked to a few fucked up people in my attempt to find "Mike". I didn't want to call him Eyedea in front of all these people for some reason. Everyone seemed to know that I was "the engineer that has come to test his skills and see if he is worthy of working with everyone" and it was kind of fun but I felt like I was retarded and kept tripping over stuff and apologizing for it. I made it upstairs and lost Kathy in the process and I was tripping over people's feet and falling around like I was drunk or something. I made it upstairs to this really nice computer keyboard with a tiny little olive CRT monitor and on the screen was supposedly the newest version of pro Tools but it looked like a video came. There was this kid that acted like he had a successful label but he looked like the Italian lost boy kid actor in Hook and he said that him and his brother were neighbors of Mike's and that's how they got their foot in the door in the industry. These two old guys that were supposedly bomb engineers grabbed the mouse and started copying regions like in a video game and I went looking for "Mike" and some producer found me and asked me if I knew how to run the rig and I was like "I don't know! That shit looks like fucking Tetris!" and a ton of people laughed. Evidently we were in Mike's bedroom. I got word that Eyedea was in the vocal booth and ready to go but I never saw him so the old guys moved out of the way and let me try to create some tracks and set up a compressor in Pro Tools to go to tape [What?] and it looked so different that I could barely even do that. Everyone got quiet while he spit his verse. I was doing key commands to make the tracks bigger and smaller and to view the whole session and I could hear everyone behind me by the bed commenting on the job I was doing so far; whether it was good or bad I didn't know but no one kicked me off the computer, and I recorded for the whole song. Then I had to leave so I found Kathy coming up the steps and she too had gotten into whatever drug all these people were on because her eyes were sunken in as well. </div>
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We found our way near the out and then I woke up...</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15154342245696908113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441478402560447411.post-56366926915562776272014-02-28T02:42:00.000-06:002014-02-28T02:42:20.910-06:00SO CALLED LIVES<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 17px;">
<b>I'M NOT REALLY A FAN OF PEOPLE WITH SO-CALLED "LIVES". IF A LIFE IS WHAT ONE CALLS WHAT THEY SEPARATE FROM THEIR JOB IN ORDER TO STAY SANE, THAN I AM DEAD AND BATSHIT CRAZY. IF A LIFE OVER TIME IS INCORPORATED BY A HOLE IN THE SOUL DUE TO BOREDOM AND SELF INSECURITY, OR LACK OF ACCOMPLISHMENT AT A CERTAIN AGE COMPARED TO THEIR RENDITION OF MISTER COOL THAT IS CONSTANTLY ALTERED EVERY TIME THEY GO TO THE MALL THEN MY ENTITY IS AS SOLID AND EVEN MORE PAINFUL TO DIGEST THAN A LITERAL SHIT BRICK OF DIGNITY ROCKING PHENOMENON, STRONGER THAN THE DOWNS IN THE SPECIAL OLYMPICS GIVING A HUG TO A BLACK BEAR AND THE BLACK BEAR LETTING THEM PET HER CUBS NOW THAT HER EYES POPPED OUT OF HER HEAD AND SHE'S BLIND BUT SHE'LL STILL PAINT BETTER PICTURES ALL OVER THE CAVE WALLS WITH HER CLAWS DIPPED IN BLOOD THAN THE GOD SURRENDERED STUPID MAN'S LIFE THAT HE LOST AS HE STROLLED OFF THE BEATEN PATH ON THE HUNT FOR ADVENTURE, JUST ONCE IN HIS EXISTENCE HE COULD GET AWAY FROM THE HE SAID SHE SAID POLLUTION SOCIETY FARTS UP SUBCONSCIOUSLY LIKE YEAST YET IF HE LISTENED TO HIS SUBCONSCIOUS SELF A LITTLE MORE HE'D BE LEAVING THE HURT ALONE RATHER THAN KICKING THOSE GROUND-BOUNDED DUMB FOUND OUT SINKING BLACK HOLE FROM INSIDE THE LOCKED COULDRON OF ATOMS SMASHED BEINGS COULD NOT MOVE A BOULDER WITH MIND RAY-IC POWER - CAN YOU REACH THEM? YODA DON'T EXIST HE CANNOT TEACH THEM SHIT THEY CAN'T LEARN FROM A SCHOOL PROFESSOR LATER IN GRADES GOTTEN AFTER HIGH SCHOOL FOR DRINKING AND GETTING LAID PUTTING UP BULLSHIT ANSWERS HUNGOVER AND ITS FUNNY TO THOSE THAT CAN RELATE BUT I CAN'T, AS A MATTER OF FACT I GOT A SERIES OF WORDS THAT ATTACK LIKE BASEBALL BATS ON THE NORTH SIDE, TYPEWRITER TOMMY GUN TAKING TIME TO TEACH A POSITIVE MESSAGE TERRORIST STYLE TORN SO TERRORIZINGLY COOL THAT YOU LOOK BACK AT YOUR LIFE AND SMACK YOURSELF AS HARD AS YOU CAN IN THE FACE THEN THE JUNK EVEN IF YOUR A CHICK IT DOESN'T MATTER HOW YOU ROLL OR RIDE, IF YOU GLIDE HIGH ON ASTRAL PLANES SOBER YOU'LL NEVER DIE. LIVES OF THE POWER OF GREATNESS UNFOLDED WEAKNESS TOLD RIDDLE FALLEN SACRED AND LOST SCOLDED INTO MOLT-RIDDEN JUNK OF THE BRAIN CLOG THE THINKWAYS AND PISS ON THE HYDRANT OF ORIGINALITY. SMACK LIPS WITH A RULER FOR SPEAKING BADLY OF SOMEONE DOING THEIR BEST, AND THAT RULER DIPPED ON CONCRETE THE SIZE OF A CHILD'S COFFIN WOULD PROBABLY TAKE YOUR HEAD OFF ABOVE THE JAW. NOW NO ONE WANTS TO LOOK AT YOU SO GO HIDE SOMEWHERE AND LEARN SOMETHING PRODUCTIVE AND NOT RE-PRODUCTIVE FOR HEAVEN'S SAKES, RAKE BLASTED SCROLLS OF THE SAND SO SCRIBES EAT CAKE! AND THEY DON'T LIVE AS LONG BUT THEY GET MORE DONE DUE TO MAD SECLUSION BUT MAYBE THAT IS WHAT LIFE IS ALL ABOUT? WOMEN THINK THEY'D HATE BEING NUNS BUT TRUE NUNS ARE LIKE CEREMONIAL FIRE THROWING AND LEVITATING TIBETAN MONKS ON SOME LEVEL IN THE SAME RESPECT THAT THEIR KNOWLEDGE IS OF SELF AND FAITH AND THEIR FAITH IS NOT TAINTED BY BULLSHIT NOR IS THEIR KNOWLEDGE TAINTED BY THY NEIGHBOR'S HERESAY OF A MAN POISONED IN THE MIND COME DOWN FROM THE HEAVENS TO PREACH FREE WILL. FUCK FREE WILL. I KNOW IT FEELS LIKE WE HAVE SOME SORT OF CONTROL AND MATHEMATICALLY... WELL... I'M GONNA LET GOD DECIDE. TRY RELEASING A TRUE LION WHISPERING WATER WALKING EGYPTIAN MONK EQUIVALENT IN A MAJOR AMERICAN CITY, THEN YOU GOT UFO SIGHTINGS, TSUNAMI'S, BULLSHIT TERRORIST INSIDE ATTACKS AND AT THE VERY LEAST TONS OF BROKEN GLASS, OR INSTEAD A RABBIT JUST JUMPED BACK INTO ITS HOLE AND SCAMPERED ITS WAY BACK THROUGH HALLWAYS BELIEVED TO BE THE INNER WORKINGS OF THE UNIVERSE, LEAVING ITS BODY AT THE HOLE'S ENTRANCE AND NO MAN, WOMAN OR CHILD COULD EVER FOLLOW, ONLY OTHER RABBITS.</b></div>
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<b style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 17px;">TAKE THE F OUT OF LIFE AND YOU GOT A LIE. IF NO ONE HAD THE PRIVILEDGE OF REPRODUCTION THAN SPECIES WOULDN'T EXIST. EVER. IF YOU TRUST SCIENCE'S SO-CALLED EXPLANATION OF HOW MICROSCOPES SHOW THE PROCESS OF CONCIEVING ALL THE WAY TO BIRTH THAN YOU ARE WRONG AND IF YOU METAPHORICALLY HAVE FAITH THAT WHAT THE RELIGIOUS BELIEVE IN IS RESPONSIBLE FOR ALL OF US BEING HERE YOU'RE AN IDIOT. THIS WORLD PULLED OVER OUR EYES COULD BE TOTALLY DIFFERENT THAN WHAT THE TEXTBOOKS ARE TALKING ABOUT; THERE COULD BE A LOT MORE TO IT. OR THERE COULD BE NOTHING. SO MANY PEOPLE ARE SO IGNORANT TO SUCH SIMPLE THINGS, YET THE SOPHISTICATED SCIENCE CREATED MINDS OF SO MANY HUMAN BEINGS ARE CONSTANTLY WRAPPED AROUND EVENTS AND CHARACTER IDENTITY VARIABLES THAT MIGHT ONLY HAPPEN BUT FOR AN INSTANT MEASURED IN TIME BUT LIVE IN THE MINDS AND MOVE IN THE MOUTHS UNTIL THEY TAKE THEIR STORIES TO THE GRAVE. ALL OF THEM. NONE OF THIS BULLSHIT WILL BE REMEMBERED IN HISTORY, THERE'S TOO GODDAMN MUCH OF IT. AND NO ONE ELSE CARES. SO WHY SHOULD YOU? HAVE YOU EVER SEEN A ROCK FROM SPACE HIT THE EARTH? WHAT ABOUT A TRILLION ROCKS AIMED DEAD IN OUR DIRECTION FROM MULTIPLE ANGLES ALL TRAVELING AT DIFFERENT SPEEDS BUT SCHEDULED TO HIT AT THE SAME TIME? AND EACH ONE IS SO BIG IT MAKES EARTH LOOK LIKE A DUST-MITE'S LEFT TESTICLE? WHO WOULD REMEMBER SUCH AN EVENT? WHO WOULD EVEN KNOW THAT IT HAPPENED? HOW DO YOU KNOW IT DOESN'T HAPPEN EVERY 5 MILLISECONDS AND WE ARE STUCK IN AN INFINITY CYCLE OF TIME IN WHICH TIME FOR US DOESN'T EXIST LET ALONE MOVE SO EVERY DAY WASTED IS A WHOLE LIFETIME PISSED AWAY? WHO CARES? I'M NO EXPERT ON HOW BLACK HOLES ARE CONCIEVED BUT SUCH AN EVENT COULD OUTCOME THE ALLEYWAY TO SOMETHING SO COMPLETE AND UTTERLY DIFFERENT THAT OUR VERY ENERGY DOESN'T KNOW WHAT THE HELL IS REAL. HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT WHEN YOU GET HIT IN THE FACE FOR WHAT CAME OUT OF YOUR MOUTH YOU'RE NOT GETTING A TASTE OF WHAT'S REALLY GOING ON ON A SCALE BIGGER THAN EARTHLY ASTRONOMISTS CAN DOCUMENT AS A WHOLE 'NOTHER REALM OF LIVING COMBINED? THAT'S NOT THE POINT THO. FOR LITERAL YEARS PEOPLE'S NATURAL INTELLIGENCE HAS BEEN CLIMBING DOWNWARD WHILE TECHNOLOGY ALLOWS THEM TO LIVE VERY DUMBED-DOWN LIVES. SCREW IT THO, I DON'T WANT TO SOUND JUDGEMENTAL. MY OWN INSECURITIES OF NOT BEING ABLE TO CONSUME ALCOHOL COME POURING OUT RIGHT ABOUT NOW, BUT WAIT, IS THAT A SUPER PLANET THE SIZE OF GOD MY SOURCES TELL ME ARE COMING AT US FROM BEYOND THE HEAVENS? NO, ITS A TRILLION OF THEM, SO NO TIME FOR DRINKING OR SPORTS OR TELEVISION, WOMEN OR LEFT-HANDED CIGARETTES. TO MY TRUEST BELIEF UNDER THE OFFENSIVENESS SOCIETY BRINGS ME TOWARD I HAVE BUT ONE MISSION TO FULFILL THOUSANDS OF TIMES PER DAY, YET MOST WILL NEVER KNOW I EVEN EXIST</b><span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 17px;"><b>…</b></span></span><br />
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<b>[8-30-13]</b></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15154342245696908113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441478402560447411.post-86803082915003524912014-02-28T02:38:00.003-06:002014-02-28T02:38:57.135-06:00ROGUE BOY WANDER<br />
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<b>a young boy walks thru his village unhappy, kicking rocks and sand pedals through the plants of an unborn society. Spawn. The likelihood that he would ever become a man seemed light-worlds away, he commits suicide by slitting his throat with a piece of twine...</b></div>
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<b>An old warrior stands up straight and pulls down his dark hood, revealing the black war marks on his face. A spell casting sorcerer with human shit in his hair just took out an army on his own with only a sword, faith, insight and words guarded shield barrier manforth take becoming the beings walking around in the mirror go back and forth. Spirits talk if you listen. Don't take for granted you've been givin life out of all existing energy that never stops. Fuck the Mormon beliefs bra, Hell is real and eternally forever. </b></div>
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<b>a teenage boy strolls thru his city offended. The time it took to get here was nothing cuz time doesn't exist quite like you think it does; it's actually a mind-fuck torpedo wrapped piece of sinful Godly creation rip your hair out knuckle deep and blow out candles burning down Jellystone, written in a language so far fetched from truth fish die bird starves bear shits in wood cabin on the chest of the dead forefather to prove Jesus, God and the Holy Spirit are more real than you could ever imagine. </b></div>
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<b>War. Time is essential. Pain is vital, vitals not necessary nor bowels for fixed food the right to bear arms non-existant. Kill or be killed, kill and live in a form of denial slash regret, die and you've made it. Nothing makes a man or woman a man like war. When you have something to fight for you fight for it goddamnit. Save your family. He has no family. </b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 26px;">A young man stands before the throne with an uzi in each hand, staring up at the king's black-hearted and cooked carcass. He will not go to prison, instead he will go sit in an otherwise empty room from only which a piss proof mattress lies on the floor by shatterproof windows. He is still not safe, rips the collar off his shirt, throws it on the floor and empties the rest of his cases on it as he did the same to his majesty. Rounds ricochet around the room yet none of them would dare penetrate the young man's flesh, they deflect without losing velocity around the room until it destroys itself as well as the planet we are all on. And YOU thought it was terrorists….</span></span></b><br />
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<b>[7-6-11]</b></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15154342245696908113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441478402560447411.post-1468264345330496142014-02-28T02:37:00.003-06:002014-02-28T02:37:50.980-06:00POEM ATTEMPT 1<br />
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<b>Time was spinning when devils did fly</b></div>
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<b>mom gave birth to an angel it made her cry</b></div>
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<b>the way the people were living made it die</b></div>
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<b>of worldly costs and having to deal with the life of a stranger come down from his state to belittle the minds that think they're so great filled with hate in a manner that takes lives away but wait, is that not the joy that's so great? Who will understand the workings of Christ before they even learn to ride a bike and who's solid faith can protect it alone from the devils in spaceships attacking my home where they live in a dome of bullshit and foam while I roam... and I am only taken back a little, they take all your lives but I'm in the middle see I'm already taken, I made them come, so to all the fucks that called me dumb your mistaken, you've killed your brain with the rum and the ecstacy joint that pills all society you're never again gonna know real sobriety government poisoned shitbag realm of death, your breath I sold to the anti of rest, you can learn to play drums you can sin like the dsvil wants you to but I'm down here in the basement deflecting demonic spaceships and asteroidic meteors from Satan with the superintendent exploratory placebo mindgame headfuck of Pro Tools "H" Decimal "CC" Accel into life of a new world unto glory, the passion, the Bumfucked just of the land dumbfucked into oblivion living in perma-rhetoric asso-pioneer rage out the Khetamine language of dying and coming back 3 days later only for circumstances to prove that you are not as cool as you think you are. Lay down and LIVE for a second, a second too long with excercise your breathing power to new exponential heights, If a cataclysmal baptism isnt in your yogurt than blow it out the self of someone elses ass why dontcha bullshit yourself into someone elses opinion, I give a fuck no more. When pain becomes real as time allows eternity the matter of brain must pay to reconciliate, more people recruited, man punched out in the restroom, many pregnancies due to rape, malignant pre-pubescent replublican dinner party throwing eggs in the carcass of sam ash paralegal soccer moms with dignity in their pockets but not in their hearts so the monster hath eat their children. Thus is the lesson learned of the Lord today. Peace, and Amen. </b></div>
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<b>[9-4-13]</b></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15154342245696908113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441478402560447411.post-67037597716674846762014-02-28T02:36:00.002-06:002014-02-28T02:36:37.580-06:00PARTYING WAYS<br />
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<b>talk if you must but praying is more appropriate as I am not okay. Something is missing from my life. Something serious. Lemme look inside and see if I can find what it might be...</b></div>
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<b>[ommmmmmmmm, ommmmmmmmmm] </b></div>
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<b>[shuffling around old junk, scrap metal]</b></div>
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<b>[ommmmmmmmm, ommmmmmmmmmm]</b></div>
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<b>is this it? money. no. money is the root of all evil. I will aviod money like the plegue to the point where I lose my facility and starve to death in order to help build something greater than myself after I am gone yet be a part of it, or at least starting it, until I cease to exist.... or croak. So many motherfuckers holding out there hands after a pointless display of small time jack-assery on stage, why won't they be something real? Speak from the mind-pool of the future why don't they? Instead of pulling shit from their past, or trying too hard to be cool and not be looked down on, do you know how hard it is to do something creatively innovative and technically modern and groundbreakingly new? HOw about something cool? This day and age is flooded with bullshit in all forms of fuck and fashion. Do you really have to end your life to be successful? Nope, fuck money. Not to talk too much shit. Thats not it. </b></div>
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<b>poison picked will be death of the tricked</b></div>
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<b>poison picked will be death of the tricked</b></div>
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<b>Poison not picked will be the death of the not tricked. Pick the shaft fallen down the pollen sunk the craft, sword-heavy wordsworth lady like hath picked doom out of the fight tonight. </b></div>
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<b>How many more times will I witness it before they take me? I'm not going to order a drink at the bar, nor would I be caught dead running game on a female specimen, I don't care how far her titties are haning out. Drink the blood of Christ and in doing so I choose death do us part. Love comes in the strangest of ways and like know how to use it yet butt-front mammoth in the corner of the room shedding tears in the likeness that He hasn't been around since the perimeter half-file has been broken. Love is a 4 letter word invented by a human, the meaning of it created by aliens, represented by blow in the fakest forum imaginable yet trigger the metamorphasis to phase three hundred times a thousand. Why I'd like a shirley temple on the rocks with a drizzle of shot to the head come latter the pill of morning doom lying face down on the bed tongue in throat magic happen all over again not to be revived cuz the one chosen to save is on fucking meth and doesn't know the difference between stubborn-ness and narcissism, and fuck the baby rascal in it's shallow butt-hole too. So adorable, The lip sink-ed rhymes have taken off the shirt of the innocent only to grave the efforts working whipping boy beat red-headed step-child of the industry comes back to fold out the carpet wished out in control of time and fortune and sorcery and death. Drink from the Holy Alter they'll eventually kill your ass on you fucking pig. Grab a movie while you live cuz movies are just figments of what your life will turn into before you realize that you are dead. Or dreams. </b></div>
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<b>[11-28-11]</b></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15154342245696908113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441478402560447411.post-61834573867164230432014-02-28T02:32:00.003-06:002014-02-28T02:32:42.862-06:00MIND F**K<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">
MIND FUCK. KINDA LIKE A BLIND BUCK SHOOTING AT THE HUNTERS IN THE BASEMENT ON A LINE WHAT? NADA SMOKE SOME KIND BUDS NEVER WHERE YOUR MIND WAS I WILL SEE YOUR BRAIN WHEN I'M DONE WITH THIS HOCKEY PUCK IN SIDE THE LOONEY BIN CAPTIVATING TIME WAS THE PRESENCE IN THE PAST MIX TOGETHER TIL THE MIND BUZZ TERRORIZE THE SKY CUZ SLEEPING WHERE ITS DRY FALLS NEVER AN OPTION RECONCILIATE THE DRY WALLS OF YOUR MIND OF THE TIME PRINTER YOU ARE OUTTA LINE I WILL TAKE A BITE OUT OF YOUR CRIME IF I SO FEEL INCLINED STOP IT HEAVEN HELL ARE INTERTWINED I'M A GATE SENTINEL OF POWER LOOKING THRU YOUR MIND LOOK AND SEE WHAT I SEE TERRORIZING DAN-GER SLAUGHTERING YER DEMONS FOLLOWED BY YER GUARDING AN-GEL LOOKING AT THE MAN-GER GUIDED BY A STRAN-GER I AM NO STRANGER TO THE POWERS THAT BE HOLDING AN-GER I ROCK ONE... SO SALUTE MY ASS</div>
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MONEY IN MY POCKET SPENT ON PRO TOOLS WHILE YER SMOKIN GRASS I JUST SPENT MY LAST TEN BUCKS ON A BOTTLE, RIP SLEEVE OFF SHIRT AND STUFFED IT IN THE TOP OF BOTTLE LIGHT WICK THROW-AT-PUMP</div>
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[10-24-12]</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15154342245696908113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441478402560447411.post-39429215579956346722014-02-28T02:29:00.003-06:002014-02-28T02:29:54.611-06:00NUKES AND SCUDS<br />
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<b>nukes and scuds evaporate blood but words are less than vapor to begin with. The cost of stench of rotting breath toleration can't be afforded by the average townie no matter how glorious or historical the city. Atlantis was like a city of Gods, when only God knows of the sinning that happened inside the city walls. Take a look inside a mind like running through the baren ghost forest post devastating fire at night. The fires gone out in the lighthouse making the ships and the rocks have to fight. If all the kings henchmen and babes of the castle go set an example by drinking then the bumpkin's 10th son who was almost aborted will kill them with thinking. Plots and schemes against politics framing hearts sinking in sand that recreates time and space to a blackhole that sucks up the land and the snow and the pain it must take to go on in light of faith, aliens abducting soldiers as prisoners thrive on their sense of devastation as it trickles into test tubes and glows like the dark inside the soul of a homeless orphan child, next to be picked up in a beam of the light no it didn't make the news cuz no human could fight it and no one needs to know about shit the government and the police and the military can't protect them from til it hits the side of their living quarters with an uncanny weapon projectile vomit task reaper gone reaper sword paddling lakes of water out the canoe's floor rebuilding the hope that she'll come thru the door of the dead and the lost, tossing and turning in hopes she's not in the pits of Hell burning to save her is death by the hand of the very man who's hand it is whether it be by rope or chain its a certain insanity that breaks the ties tying him down to humanity, some links made of glass others made perfect sense but the landlord comes down and he beggeth for rent metaphorically speaking abominally wrong cuz when in appearance some light of whats wrong or offline take sanctuary from losing sacred time wasted along war paths only grasped as being foreign to those who have never walked them but nearly everyone has at some point, whether it be this life or not but they have, yes indeed, they all walk down from the treasure ships the angels sail around the moon and the stars and the life that would have been found on mars had we been around to discover it a humanly unimaginable amount of time ago, but if you sit on your hands long enough it'll come around again or are you tied to a chair in another dimension getting slapped in the face by a tyrant supernatural mutant gone buddhist in its standards blasphemic standing backwards tragic strategic para-drop quadraplegic writing hymnal books with mind rays and tired because the back of his mind has just been crossed emotionally as well as damn well geographically by the back of his mouth. Yup. Bullet path. But how the Hell did he pull the trigger? It didn't pull itself and nor did he, a spasm in the time cycle of man military skunk tripping waffle warted scout piglet ruining roots that demolish roads from the sewers drop atoms on slivers and sail them away to projects of highly funded suburbian deaths wretched time agog bullshit land search for the damn great survivor of every war, let alone victor, Jesus Christ. If that is your real name. If it is than can you tell me why life is so lame and why schools mold everyone's mind to be the same and try to explain why the mail never came hold up just a second I'm changing the blame to the trigger man military sky in the past kicking white little soft-skins impregnated ass it will pass my young padewon searcher of souls take a ride in the alien spaceship of ghouls come back from the future to haunt the next generation of land-lubbing busy-body print make fashion bullshit same fake passionate bullshit wake up a pool of time calling bullshit I say no more spasms get out of the lake before drowning in madness for God's Heaven's sake a mistake to be made from now on down the road where I once found Jesus and He told me I'm too old to be part from the ways of the church so I said back to the path of light folicles following how many times will this imposter of my mother keep calling? the worlds been burning for five years tho I've only been on the unit for four months yet the machines still try to convince me that they are her tho I know its a different tentacle of the entity blurred in the eyeless doom of the world we can't possibly be forgiven in, hence the flood of fire leaving ruin and the only human beings left are within these walls, Four East West Health Poison drips into the mind naturally and this is the first and only place to reverse it and find help.....</b></div>
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<b>There is no machine, keep telling yourself that. the fact that its real as it is they can't match. Tho burned at your birth your the creme of the crop, the day you give up the whole world will stop. </b></div>
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<b>[3-21-13]</b></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15154342245696908113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441478402560447411.post-15095782695103243912014-02-28T02:27:00.003-06:002014-02-28T02:27:49.048-06:00SUN PLANETS<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14px;">
<b>With thousands of sun planets skyward mere miles from the surface earth cries out loud facts demolished with scrolls taken over in depth demon walker speaks tongue unrecognizable holy faith reconciled for the last time as one being brings stop hath turn defy-able by which the courtyard turned to ruin calls beast running factories blessed throughout time and time again misfortune sonar, the workstation hasn't been able to record 96K for over three hundred years that passed walks unforgiven in the land of the flies and swallow being manhunter head-striker stick through the wall drill the holes to find the alien government's microphones on the other side switched to omni to measure the levels in two rooms simultaneously so action fought against ridiculed by nine by nine by nine by twelve acres damned by a guide so malnourished in faith that tears falling from an eye twicked across nose and nose again accepting the idea of forth halt bar-ground hassle till blows thrown hit crack and shatter the bloodline carried along boatside assistance gruvvel through painstakingly livable circumstances travel dorm-ridden holocaustic fathomly beautiful dream adorned hitmen nailed to a cross, floss around the very balls princess cherished so whole-heartedly wasting half a lifetime biased around stagnant anti-poverty experiences dragged about love hate twists man-gested society bygones half naked toward the ritualistic screams God and first man exchanged, one in confusion and the other out of love as unfathomably angry as it was unconditional. </b></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15154342245696908113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441478402560447411.post-33721437381275217392014-02-27T23:20:00.002-06:002014-02-27T23:20:36.640-06:00("HAT HER", 8-30-2013)<br />
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<b>pit her pat her rid her rat her rudder but her lifts are flatter pick a passion love and laughing float a moat of dine and dashing run a mash up fly a table plant a pack of lies.... fable. fuck a town of simple crosses tied down by their social flaws, suck down a pimpled bosses tie gone bye-bye choked in fax machine paws, choke a little more and then the pimples sure to puke, an effervessent standing wave is lost reflected fluke. A tidal wave of power-tripping overcast my shadow leaving older masses broadcast seem like pain resolving battle. The tele meant those for fear to lose the sight of tears in loved ones, inside the hearts of man is fear itself no gear above guns. Intrepid sign of caviity pulls away from Earthly pull that makes the pull of very universe held captive seemless null. Drink of holy Drink of holy Drink of holy piss cuz at the bottom of the coke can lies the number of your wish, not the number you'd have guessed but one blessed for more wicked for the trees and swings of ancient things plant bitchless tricks like phys-ed, or physics? who's sign is it anyway? Who lofted the agrivated man to fall to his knees, begging for them please to hang him from the trees neck down by order of the sneeze. Pick a cherry rip fairy rip saw had banned clawing clock-mark like craft-working slip the head rip the he said bullshit she said wrong bitch you asked and then pulled out the hair as easy as grass in order to forfeit the life we all know and love and miss and cherish yet can never ever go back to no matter how mighty our energy gets its fucking lost in the passed never to be remembered but fuck if I can forget all the time spent unhappy but death do us trace out the path unwritten future pessimisticidal last time erupted downward damning Hell-force slams verbal miscommunication impossible hefty bag old man jumps from the trumpet of sin sagging wallet foreclosure jab pellet well meant sell the penitentiary to snowboarder fucking nerds who may be mad talented but can't find a shower for somehting logical front the bloody ass snot-nose broken glasses hunt for red october in the control room last passing lastly every forgiving for the heartache let time heal all wounds and not fate. Fuck. Late. Late indeed for I beg of my life to escape down the rabbit hole tennis hockey wife like a bunny so kempt bushy tail in the wind, could fill a bucket from the hole in my head, not one... grinned.</b></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15154342245696908113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441478402560447411.post-65807110814223992812014-02-27T23:15:00.002-06:002014-02-27T23:15:26.990-06:00<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">
9-20-05 Judgement Day</div>
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I had a dream that people had were waiting in line in their cars and trucks and vans in the rain in some rural suburbian area and the lines they were waiting in were backed up for miles. No one seemed to care as people just got out of their vehicles and talked to eachother and the drivers yelled to eachother as well. </div>
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Everyone had to take a DVD into this building that looked like the Robbinsdale Social Security office and get it inspected, and based on the DVD itself, how new it was, if it was a copy, they were rated on what type of person they were. There were cops pulling people over outside, and they searched everyone with these surveys with a whole bunch of drugs on checklists, and they were asking people what they chose to do on their spare time. If they said that they did drugs and checked off which ones on the sheet, the cops didn't bust them, they just wanted to know. If someone lied,however, they would be judged for it in the end, but still let go. I remember laughing out loud and thanking God for letting me have this dream when I was standing beside the road and a cop asked this old ghetto black man a double-sided question, "Which do you prefer in a DVD [life]- Features, Stories, or Special Effects [drugs being the "special effect"]? The look on the man's face when he knew he wanted to say Special Effects but hesitated in a funny way like he was going to say something smart ass in a friendly way made me laugh in my sleep. He knew he wasn't in trouble; he was dealing with God! So he knew that all he would have to do is tell the truth and he would be right. I thought to myself at that time, if monkeys could get fucked up on something, it would probably ruin their lives and ability to do things as well. MONKEYS PROBABLY DO HAVE WAYS OF GETTING FUCKED UP!!!!!</div>
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The next test was that everyone in the U.S. had to find their way through a very large and uneven grounded park. I was observing from up above as there was 3 ways to take: a long blacktop path from the top of the mountain to the left that wrapped around the mountain's backside, levelly, and met at the destination to the right, or there was a steep blacktop path as wide as a road that would be the quick route but very scary and dangerous, then in between there was a series of thin paths that probably looked confusing from the top of the mountain but I could see that they were the best way to go as htey were all connected with no dead ends. I watched some ghetto people try walking down the steep path in dress clothes (that is what they were wearing when taken to the test, I guess) and they had to sit down and slowly crawl like a crab to get down but then they started sliding and this scared them so they screamed. One woman's heels broke off her high heeled shoes due to the sliding. There was a flat pause in between paths after the first drop and they all decided that they were going to take the trails for the next part instead of the second steep part. They looked like monkeys in a way, trying to figure out their way through the test park. Maybe it was because i was looking down on them as a higher power and I just saw them as lesser beings, like we look at monkeys. They didn't look totally human, but there are people that remind me of monkeys anyway on this earth with how they act, and God has to judge everyone, and those "monkey-people" had just proved a lot to Him about themselves by attempting to take the steep path, whether it was good or bad.</div>
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I was then down among the people in the woods trails, just trying to keep track of my friends. Some people were complaining of the light rain and how long it took to walk due to them being out of shape but others were like "THis isn't so bad." A girl that looked like a soccer player came up to me and Mike Gervais and told us that some people found a way to go down the mountain up in the trees, a series of nets and ropes that her and her friends were partying on in secret from the rest of the people on the ground. I knew then that we had to be friends with the coolest young people to be informed on the fun secret way to go through God's long ass test.</div>
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When I got to the bottom there were a ton of people around this little bathroom building in the park and up another smaller mountain in another direction was a humungous pink barbie castle, literally covering a square mile, and there were people waiting in line to go up to it all the way down the mountain. I was telling this girl that we had to go there but she didn't want to wait in the line but we did and got there really fast, and it looked like an old elementary school or old hospital on the inside, really dark. I remember walking around in it just saying, "this is a test... this is only a test..." and then i'd look down a short hallway into some offices or a room or something and expect it to change like it was an illusion...</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15154342245696908113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441478402560447411.post-63963045598095433652014-02-27T23:13:00.000-06:002014-02-27T23:13:04.798-06:00<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 10px; letter-spacing: 0px;">THIS IS NOT BLANK...</span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">8-27-05</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Gather your best droogs cuz its on for the house in which the matter that befuddles man and ahs been for the long centuries gone to come work around their horses and all hte kings men that wouldn’t go round about ‘bout it again so the swollen carcasses that lie befolded amongst tonge of man lay serpent to those in which faith hath bestowed upon the righteous forth continuum into the great leap void truthem be hackled into slaying some sort of beast within me. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Go to your workers and sacrifice the weakest lamb fledgling into the mouth of great and Holy sadness but hte lambn will not find intself sad; it will not find itself fadden or intimate or long gotten in those who have acted agaist it. For those to sin and sin again it must take mass whords of locks on chains that are swinging round forth-right into the wagons of lag person right snathicng bagels from the dairymen in and out on their farms to the kingdom valley at the end where their fields lead to and speed to the Hell’s gate entrapment by force for ot all things I love, I want a divorce; I could leave evrything behind as it all comes down inthe shackles and chains that divide me from hope of ever feeling the same again...</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">And by the same, I mean in this tragedy of a Hell-hole by which I have no voice on what is up or down, all I can do is whisper and drink water and apple juice and take shots in the ass by a greater or weaker force by which I do not know what but does my life suck? Does the ass that slain hide the dagger go rusty? Do the Heavens speak down on the crown of man for that which man does not listen and also for which I am and have been listening more intently than ever before now this moment ahead of me by kingdom come; let them come. Amen.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">They boast, they creak, all in the means of their killing of being on their way to the war between centuric universes falling hard into the galapsal form of the works that mass intreague [muelty] hath develop for the lands of sands over grands do not halo over shotting some other random figure in the skull when they are delivering theri up right and begone speech opportunistiticity appointing impeachment for the whole government to lay rest and give forth the doctrine of anarchy and PAIN! DO YOU NOT GROW FORM PAIN! DO YOU! DO YOU NOT WELCH INTHE PAIN THAT ONE SINGS OUT INTO YOUR PULSED VEINS! DO YOU NOT ACT ON THE REPOIRTOIR VENGEANCE THAT SEEKS OUT THE VERY SOUL OF AN IMPOSTER AND LEAKS HIM DOWN TO THE DEPTHS OF MAN’S MOVING MACHINE OF DE-STROY... DE-STROY... DE-STROY THE REBIRTH OF THE LANGUAGE “MANKIND”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Okay. Now I can picture it. It is like looking through a thick rainforest, pulling back some leaves and seeing a long and complex hallway of metal, like the inside of the death star, [the inside is machine but the outside is living rainforest!!!] the machine is taking over the living, cold gray surfaces bolted onto one another as they come together to be with each other, man [plants, earth] & machine...</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">And if all goes well, do I fall to my feet and recognize, or actually, realize; even’ to recongnize that I am one with the night sky and the stars, so infathomably far away, seem to be my home even though it is day?</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">By what fall to the gorund hath I lay sound on to doom it’s way back to the surface of leaky postures and informatic logic bestowed away witht he knowledge of birth and Christ and Judism egg-nog counting onthe gate to reopen and spill it’s filth like the mud storm that folows the angellic visitation but this would rather come before “the Christ” even presents Himself to the land and people of the Father, Amen.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Have you seen my been-derek? I seem to have lost the lost and found on my own way to church that I found once when obliviated from the feilds that cast me here long, long ago in a time when the people did not know their Saint was among the few of them [population = less than a million] and they did not even acknowledge what at best to make of their situation. In one hand they have “the book.” And what I mean by “the book” is that if they learned how to use it, not just rip out the pages and re-word everything and spread it out all over the land between ocean alone in the sanctuary by itself, they could actually become one with not only themselves, but Maker, Creator, etc. In the other hand they have me. I may seem useless right now, but I’m drinking milk, and someday, when He calls on me and I “get my wings back” so to say, form 11 to 1 I will be seen inlightened that the pond’s recovery may so land it back on it’s feet. Back to what I was saying, ont he ohter hand, they have me. I am not Jesus Christ nor am I near the perfectness that Jesus H. Christ was at, but I feel there needs to be a second becoming, a second little mishap in hte life line time line bull sit such as little as I am in the forces of the world but as big as I am in the doubts of the sanity I unfold on each hour, each minute, GODDAMN my concentration is a little bit weary and deary to me is the magical sound of my poor little black doggy snoring on the foot of the bed. God do I miss that feeling of his little warm body leaned on and against my legs, keeping me snug and safe from the madmen hanging their broken hands over my bed and almost touching my face to the point where I get goose pimpled bumps on my eyes as they lay under my lids but I can sense the evil dead dingering there int he darkness. Had I looked up, one broke where a finger was would poke me in the eye!!!</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">is my time up...</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">have I been forgiven...</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The subtle triangle that hangs in my mind is the pyramid that gives me energy and keeps my milk fresh even thought it has been left out on the table for a week.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Bury that wall trip in the sand with terror tears and backhanded slashes.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I wish there was some way to make them see hwat bad they’ve done and beg for forgiveness at such a times.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Sucka times...</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Is that at once shall I said be done gone with the time the back draft of a pun shone down strong from the sighted gone light of a wrongly injected freedom line green to the thong to pierce through the inner monologue tryly to find that the path to at least resistance is no longer hard to find then it is to accept that the world is ridden with crap and light joy and the bottom is hidden for you have to have power to live and ingnite and so find th way out there to fight with the tast that lay congruent ot the equally perpendicular theory that mankind has developed under suspicion that is all be taken away by the filth and rotting scenes of a day in the afterlife could bring...</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">And it is in fact in tact to lay back on your back and stay jacked on the rubber ball tacks in the hat that give thanks to the tanks of air proudly displayed in the foyer that may become filled with tear gas at any moment in given time from now because we are the bad things that cruelty scowls upon, pay fifty cents to smoke a 100% tobacco free cigarette? I think you’re trying to rip me off, son! FUCK YOU! AND GO TELL YOUR DODDLEDUM TRUMPET BLOW NOSE THAT I AM NOT INTERESTED</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Tear down the old terrors of peril and freight of the evergy that withstands all hte becoming days going by in the blink on the runway before the last giving of hands of thanks go back into time tragedy allows into undoing the forces it’s reality bestowed upon my girlfriend. Of what does the difference between tow men, a man and a woman, or two completely different types of people that walk the earth have to do with the sensual feelings in my brain contained by the power of thoughts magnificent bio-lude in the symphony of atomic bizmal foresaught elattitude that primal decandants fall down upon???</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">In the light of an old dog light, hte inside of the house could be made out to be in front of hte disposition in which it stood. She ached and ached at her muscles but the thought of coming in contact, facial to facial interraction, scared her to the point that even if she wanted to ride home she would not be able to due to the amazingly great shocking tense sense that had filled the air around her since she was a little girl. As hte night grew dim and carried on with the loud sounds of gunfire, he sat at his table with a single [piece] loaf of bread and a glass of water, remembering the times that he shared with his long be-leaved wife. The air that settled around the town onthis night was so magnificent that even the brilliantly textured senses were aroused and brought forward to touch this great pleasure. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">WHO HAS TO KNOW? WHO THE FUCK HAS TO KNOW? LET ALL LIGHT COMING INTO YE CREVASSE ASSHOLE INTO THE GREAT BOWL OF BULLSHIT THAT FAGS EAT FROM IN GIVING ADVICE TO HER YOUNG WANKNESS!</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Out of all sepremecy, hwat all does it have to do with me causing a scene? Shoudl I go over there? Chenell is talking to Miguel and when I walked over there to get my meds at the counter she kept looking at me so I know they were talking to me, or about me, now they are laughing at my expense and they will never fess up to it I know that.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">One of the boys talks to their other evil self in reflections and around corners and theri evil other selves have long hair... It’s like Jeckyll and Hyde in the League of Extraordinary gentlemen.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Which way shoudl it go with all of this going on? The tether is hanging around in such a way</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">After everything he says in public- “I don’t want to hear this shit.” and he walks away</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Okay, this is entense. I’m not going to flatter myself any more. Drake’s got my back to the fullest and I’m thankful for htat, to keep Chanel off my back. She put on make-up and perfume takey to impress me, she said that she is better then my girlfriend becuase she ahs better boobs, or bigger boobs, she is talented, independnet, smells good , and she asks, “What is so good about you’re girlfirned?” I asked her what she knew about God, she didn’t want to talk about it but she busted aout a bible and asked “Facts?” I bet she really does have an interesting opinion on God and religion and such, but maybe not. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I wonder what it would be like to hang out with her firneds. Like, would I be just some artsy old dude that they think is crazy or would htey acutally respect me? I wonder if I could hand around in her crouwd, but I shouldn’t care. Those things don’t matter. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">[Kathy was just over for a visit and Chanel and Miguel were talking about me. I think Dreake could tell I saw them and got pissed and he probably read about my screaming until the whole “shot in the ass” thing happened and didn’t want me to do it again, so he broke us apart and then them apart again. I was going to writite her a letter saying that she’s just been bullshihtting all along about liking me and htey thingk it’s funny how I believe her and flatter myself.] Well, I just took 3 trazedones and now I am off to bed. I should recap the events in thhis log before i get out of here, definitely tomorrow or something. Later.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Nevermind, I’m back. I was laying in bed having nightmares about what happened today and then it was like all of a sudden some people came “bungee jumping” from the ceiling and hovered over me saying “Aah!” really fast. That was the shock that put in for that my mind cannot fall asleep. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">On Wednesday, my mom called the hospital to get me in where I needed to be as soon as possible and maybe bypass the emergency room altogether. We got there, had to wait in the waiting room, hwere I cried with my headphones on, and then we were called back to sit in a room in the emergencty room. I waited with my mom, crying but bpatienet, thinking I would only be here a little short while, but it was a long time beofre anyone came. Then a doctor came and asked why I was here, and i told him, and then when another doctor came in and asked the same shit, I asked him why he asks such stupid fucking questions. He had no idea how to resopond but you’d think he knew what was up, it being about the fourth time I had to say. I told him that I almost fucking slit my throat on my neighbors porch yesterday- Thanks for asking!!! He said they’d be down to get my any time. An hour later, the room began getting darker and lighter like the light was dimming out in a pulsating fashion. I wasn’t just loking in one place, I was looking around and still it had the same effect. Then a guy nurse came in and was like- “Okay- you almost killed yourself yesterday,” and I started bawling. All I had to go through in ths last 24 hours and these guys just had to throw it in my face, over and over and over and over. Anyway, when the nurse from the station 48 finally came down, he said he was going to help me out [or something]. Me and my mom were talking about lieaving and I had it stuck in my head that 1) THESE PEOPLE CANNOT HELP YOU and 2) YOU ARE IN TROUBLE. I said “FUCK YOU!” to the nurse and asked this black security guard what I did. Then I said “SHOOT ME!” to the cop. Well the cop was just a security tuard and she showed me that she had no gun, so I called her worthless. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I had a dream this morning that I was finding my way around high school at a more expanded and complex Maple Gove Senior High, and we were being recruited for the army or something. The school was like a big mall from another dream. Anyway, I went outside, dressed in my snowboard gear and carrying my board and saw that the school had it’s own terrain park back there [behind it] complete with an ivey halfpiple. As I walked to the right, I noticed that the half piple was jst a bunch of drop-in hits. There were some younger dudes chilling around and getting ready to ride, talking, and I walked through the powder in front of them to get ready myself. I listened to what they were saying, and then I agreed with them and said “Yeah, like me. I’m here” and they were like “Whoah! Yeah!”</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">To conquer the darkness, the darkness you say? To waht tragedy do you lie beneath yourself and every one else that matters? And if they matter; who doesn’t? And if no one matters to pass gas on travel in tripes to take baggage to the kennel and bury it with all of htier sings in holes doo deep for shovels to dig but we filled with bones and picture frames and car titels to stand on the monument of which only the strong get eaten and beat tin hte game to a pulp where feet...</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Yes!!! Fucking righteous by the head of the bank! The unknowing doctor with his head in the forecasting spell of an ancient temple by which the specimens rise and give thianks to their God of all surface and proponent guild of the swords sheethed by the thousands, an army of locken ghouls at the souls of my skate sneaker convered soues and and the picture is done! The head has been won... The time has now begun as my head spins in delight of the malignant duty in all to recognize the beauty in all of this; I hope I will, Indeed, someday; today; at best; yes; TODAY!!!!!</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">8-29-05</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">FATIGUE LOOSE VICTIMS</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">As the extraordinary witnesses to the sight of the fall, that heard all the nothing from out of the wall, I take on reprimanded bandages wrapped in tin foil and blemished in pig spit to unwhole the earthy madam being up right in her vest of space and time and diabolic atmospherical pressure that stands still in hte magnetic resonance of that which I eat my breakfast so late that it’s impossible to fathom how empty the tanks are on fuel, gauges getting so low they’re about to burst off the charts of the principle being in his chari just stiing and praying for new hope of a scheme to ruin every other watermelon growing planter in the entire lag begged nation....</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15154342245696908113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441478402560447411.post-84471580374111214962014-02-27T23:08:00.000-06:002014-02-27T23:08:13.580-06:005-1-05 LUDLUM DREAM<br />
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Holy Shit. Where do I begin. I'll call this the Robert Ludlum dream because it reminded me of the Bourne Supremecy. </div>
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The first thing I remmeber was that I was with these two older guys, one of them was smaller, like the hardcore dude from Yale with the panther tattoo and really raspy voice, and the other one was a bigger guy like the long haired guy in Bloodsport that makes friends with Van Damme. He has a beard and longer hair and they are both ex-war special operations and they are robbing some high tech foreign village for an ungodly amount of money. I spent some time watching them work their way through stuff like customs, scamming people that were employees or security into letting them pass, and then they got into the van. Someone in charge was onto them and was questiioning them about the checks they stole, and the long-haired guy had explanations for everything. The guy asked what they were doing with it and he said something like TCF, except he said whatever the [abbreviation] stood for and the guy bought it, then I looked at the checks and they said KCF on them,s o he totally pulled a mind game on him and it worked. </div>
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We drove off and were driving through the woods in the mountains and I was thinking, "I should get someone else to drive when I come up here so that I can watch this movie". It was some sort of war movie that I wanted to watch like the Bourne Identity or somehting. </div>
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I saw the littler guy with his shirt off. His shoulder was all shiny scar tissue with a bunch of little dents and holes in it from a war injury, like shrapnel or somehting, as was the rest of his chest and arms. I noticed he even had a faded red plastic circle in between his chest and stomach taht said US Army on it, and it was some sort of older way to fill in for another war injury. He had little pieces of metal in his skin all over like he had been next to a bomb exploding many a time. </div>
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Then I was in this overcrowded village, sort of a cross between the middle ages and now, because there were animals, but the people wore normal clothes, just dirty, and the hospital was pretty modern looking. Me and my mom found our way to the hospital, all I was going to do was check it out and go to a group, so I saw all the kids there and we sat down in a circle. When it was my turn to talk, I was already crying because something plain and ordinary had scared the shit out of me, like looking at the sun out the window or something. All these military dudes about my age came in and joined the group, like 8 of them. They sat and listened until the group was done, and then we left with them and we were in an area that looked like the elevator area on B1 at NIH. We waited for a while but they were on a mission and I had to go with them, so I said goodbye to my mom and followed them up through a door in the ceiling. </div>
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There was a secret war going on in htis village between all sorts of guys my age or younger, all shooting at eachother and looking for somehting and all sorts of complex shit. the enemy dudes were looking for the dudes I was with but they didn't know exactly waht they looked like so we took turns desquising ourselves and vanishing throuhg the crowd. They would work their way over to a motorcycle and ride it away, then I got on a motorcycle and put on the gear and helmet like I was a motorcycler, and I was out of my body watching myself. I was the crazy kid that they needed for their mission so I was somewhat important. I was just sitting there on my motorcycle in the mud when all sorts of boys and girls in a dirtbike club starting making fun of my helmet, thinking I was someone else. THey kept calling me "Mullet head" and gave me a lot of attention but I didn't look at them and the bad guys walked right past me because of it. THen I took off like a pro. </div>
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We were getting chased all over this village and I saw these three dudes that looked like young Rambos in all black, one of htem was a little blonde dude, and they were on our side but were ranked higher, like they were secret special ops or something. The enemy guys were coming, so they opened up a door in the ceiling of this little crowded barn we were in and laid down a keg looking thing and hoisted the blonde guy into the ceiling, and he was to open a door somewhere else for us to get up. We went outside the barn and he threw down this wide rope ladder made of really old and soft dark wood and I climbed up last. I looked down and saw the enemy special ops guys had seen me, it was supposed to be a secret that we were up there, it was our hideout or something. </div>
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We talked about our plan a little bit up there and our situation, </div>
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Then the blonde dude ran away into the woods with some chick and there was this parade of these suitcase looking things and he was hidden in the end. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15154342245696908113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441478402560447411.post-59496873707991041002014-02-27T23:01:00.002-06:002014-02-27T23:01:43.448-06:00COFFEE DREAM (2004)<br />
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He convinces me that he is giving me a cup of coffee, but it tastes like a thick cream of dried up white paint, crushed. I noticed it was white, unlike coffee. "It's your mind," he says.</div>
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I ask for cream and sugar, and the other guy looks at me funny and tells me that that's an odd thing to do and that people don't do that. I then wonder if someone is playing a joke on me, I play along. </div>
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I take a sip of the substance, more like suck a piece of it into my lips and break it off like I'm eating an ice cream cone. It's not bad! Am I really drinking coffee right now? Or am I doing something else? </div>
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"It's your mind..." he tells me.</div>
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I then eat the cup, like it's something I'm supposed to do, like it is the bread bowl of a thick soup.</div>
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"I love having base flatlining love sessions that awaken my inner power," I say.</div>
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Then he replies, "But you didn't have a love session that awakened your inner power?"</div>
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"I know, but you're hat says- 'don't stare at me like you just saw a corpse laying there that died with a middle finger sticking out of it's fist'."</div>
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I take a swig of water out of a wine bottle. I taste the water and feel the wetness of the liquid in my mouth, but the chunks of flaky powder remain in my throat. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15154342245696908113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5441478402560447411.post-85292997890394973842014-02-27T22:59:00.000-06:002014-02-27T22:59:14.935-06:00(HERE IS THE FIRST SHORT STORY I WROTE FOR A CONTEST IN 2006)<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>Famylia D’Soerder</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">by Robert Lindberg</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>She was watching the television in a room of her suburbian house with large rectangular windows on three sides that were outlined with thick cherry trim. The sills were large and stuck far enough out of the wall to play cards on and under the windows on the ends there were red cushions so thick and soft that one could sit and look out at the hilly yards of the neighbors, full of healthy dark green grass and large trees with leaves so ripe that their veins pulsated with fluidy nutrients and seemed to smile in the sun and relax in the shade as the wind blew through them, making the branches sway back and forth slowly then more violent. Through the trees only portions of the dark gray and brown houses nearby could be seen, that were not so much large; they were modern and artsy which showed that this area had old money. Well kept concrete swept the streets and driveways, and walkways of light brick and cobblestone lead to the front entrances and around to the backs of the houses as well. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The thin wall spaces between the large windows were painted dark violet which was a look that made the air conditioned temperature feel match the appearance and seem appropriate; this room seemed dark on the inside even with the summer sun pouring in from above all the windows though it couldn’t be directly seen. The furniture matched the trim around the windows by being a multi-pieced set consisting of a wide, low-riding chair, loveseat and couch, each with thick red cushions that one could sink so far into and become so comfortable and relaxed that they would find no use for anti-depressants and sedatives. However, the thick rug on top of the hardwood floor seemed to be just fine for the girl as she layed on her stomach with her chin in her hands and her feet crossed in the air, swaying back and forth to the rhythm of the techno-punk music in the headphones. She liked to watch documentaries on modern architecture of the time and listen to her music; that would set the zone she so much loved to be in all the time. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>She herself possessed a look that would fit her nicely in her scene and lifestyle. She wore a black top covered by an open grayish-green army fatigue jacket that had a few small buttons pinned to it along with a couple patches bearing the logos of the musicians she so adored. The sleeves were rolled up because of the warm weather but it was so cool in this room that she kept it on. Her plaid skirt was long enough to go down to almost her knees even though she had the body to be able to sport something shorter, and her hair was mainly black but also had various other colors hanging intertwined with all the darkness. She had pale skin, not pale enough to look like she never went outside but like she almost never did and she had two rings pierced through her left nostril that completed the whole techno-punk look, along with her big, black leather army boots that were made for a man and matching plaid stockings sticking out only an inch above the boot tops going up her leg. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>After watching hours upon hours of fancy green atriums and forever lasting hallway systems with glass roofs and big yards containing sculptures and architecture that resembled even more sculptures she took off the headphones, stood up and stretched out her arms above her head. It was a beautiful day yet she stayed inside and watched the television, thinking nothing wierd about it. The refrigerator was in the corner. A small refrigerator it was, one of the mini kind, and she walked over to it, opened it and found it just how she had left it, full of organic nutrient drink made of blended fruit and other healthy vitamin substances such as lecethin and guarana to give her energy. She pulled one of the bottles out and opened it, looking out the windows at all there was to see and walking around the room to catch a full perimeter experience and soak everything in. She stopped on her second pass around to watch the middle aged man that lived in the next house do his yard work. He was bagging a bag of grass from the lawn mower, raking it in with his hands and trying to pick up every last piece. When he had the bag full and was starting back to his garage he saw her watching him and stopped to smile and wave. She was startled by the bust and hesitated waving back but still did, but it was an uncomfortable wave, shaky with guilt and embarrassment. It didn’t seem to matter. He was too into his chores to pick up on any of her feelings by reading any of her body language. She looked down at the yard in front of her window and bit her nail in regret, folding her arms in the process as the neighbor man went into his garage to bring the lawn mower back. She turned her back to the window to not pay any more attention to him but glanced out the window one more time to check out the beautiful day. Then she put her hands on the windowsill and looked to the sky. Was something up there? Watching her, perhaps? The sky just didn’t look the same for some reason. It looked a little too dark of a baby blue and it also seemed flat like it didn’t curve with the world. Judging by how the sky looked she would think that the world was flat as well. When she turned her head the sky seemed to curve downward and cave in like a giant bubble had formed, sort of like being under a trampoline when someone heavy was sitting on it. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>When she looked down, her neighbor was inspecting the hedges by the tree in his front yard. He bent over, but then in a flash he was standing again with his hands on his hips like he was before he bent over. He bent over a second time and it happened again; in a flash he was back in standing position. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“How is this accomplished?” the girl asked herself under her breath. It happened over and over a few more times and frightened her. She banged on the window with the bottom of her fist and the view turned to black and white dots of television snow static. Then all of the plasma HD televisions that she thought were windows turned to snow as well and they were the only source of light so the room was filled with an eerie flourescent strobe-type illumination. No more was there any sun coming in that made her feel like she was getting energy and life from. No more did she feel like she was in a room surrounded by the outdoors of a beautiful summer day. She might as well be in an office with no windows in the center of a corporate building, she thought. When the plasma TVs turned off it was pitch black in the room, which had no lights installed due to it being sort of a porch room that relied on the sun to provide light. Fear of the unknown swept through her mind as she knew nothing of where she really was or what her reality had in store for her. Coming from all around her in the distance as if the walls of the room were not there anymore were the nightly news highlights from television from the future. They sounded like they were being read off by earth dominating machines...</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>...Hereth.... ten... beseech you... let all the warlikes become God in fortitude...</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>...count on your shwargerwar... the torch to burn bruin.... signify...</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></i>A portion of the ceiling came crashing down in the center of the room and a large robot arm came reaching down from the hole with a round pearl on the end the size of a basketball that produced a dim blue light on the otherwise pitch black room. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Hello Famylia...” it said. The machine broadcasters continued to speak in the background. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>...that...that...that... it’s a conspiracy... the legacy moves on...</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>...of satellites... to us boit to dusk.... be forewarned... next time... of the galaxy...</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>...ten times to your death.... Grealbenvold alt Harrier... Alchomenstein...</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The ramblings in the background got more and more war-type industrial and in the pearl eye the girl, Famylia, could see the history of the world around her flashing through her mind. So much war. So much pollution. As time flashed before her eyes and into her mind she noted only how the tanks, vehicles of war, became more and more technologically advnanced. The eye told her exactly what was going on by showing her clips of the news that were aired on television in the centuries leading up to this point. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Did you ever go outside?” the robot asked. She thought about it long and hard, then replied “No.” She was passed tears. She realized that she has no memory of ever going outside. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Do you remember the Sears and Robuck?” the robot eye then asked.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“No. I say.” Famylia answered. The war machines continued to speak and the news flashes continued to show all the governments killing their people to make computers out of them and then having to fight the machines that they sacrificed their people to.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>...Carry on then the stopping folds... the marksmen by worth the swarm be warthy...</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>...cast off... cast off...</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>...by which we sail the final battle...</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>It sounded like a video game talking; low bit depth and bad quality audio that added to the uncomfortable feeling like being in a cheap haunted house ride at an insufficiently funded carnival.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Do you forgive mankind?...” the robot asked. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The walls became transparent like ice and she could only see the outline of the room and furniture but she could see the REAL world and it was a nuclear waste site convered in magma and there was no life in existance because no life could possibly survive in such conditions. Everywhere was dark; looking up she could only see the bottom of many layers of black smoke and the only source of light was the hellacious and ever constant lightning that never seemed to settle, along with the dim orange glow the volcanic fluid produced that could be seen through the cracks in the hardened black magma that covered the ground. She was in a location that was originally covered by an ocean that is now non-existant due to nuclear blasts, and in the lightning she could see the mountains of Hawaii in front of her that were now very much active volcanoes and had the room not been there she would be sitting on a flowing pile of hot lava. The mountains were so large due to the ocean being gone and the sight took her breath away, instilling a fear that penetrated her heart. It felt like the room’s cool temperature feel was weakening to the heat and losing it’s ability to remain cool as it quickly became warmer. At least she knew where she was and what life was like, although she would give her life not to know. She layed down on the floor in the dirt and garbage and scrap metal but she couldn’t close her eyes. This was too much of a shock for her to find out about. Her vision faded and she lost almost all energy to go on as she felt small and helpless in a dead, lifeless world. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Can you erase my mind completely?” she asked the robot eye. In a flash, she was back in suburbia land, looking out her window at her older man neighber in his yard. He waved, bent over, then stood up and went into his house. She smiled and turned on the TV.</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15154342245696908113noreply@blogger.com0