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Zywa 7d
It just happens, I

forget something important --


that I do know well.
"Diary 1974-1976" (2013, Frida Vogels) - July 10th, 1976, Bologna

Collection "Trench Waslking"
Space grey minds – made complicated –
These hotel mind-mansion muddled mud-bloods’ migraines, migrate through marble madness in a world where mirrors set a wide mould...

Bouquet of the fitting brain,
these silverfishes, odd souls, under glass mass,
forge their separate ways -
to avid void identities,
paving stone by paving stone, thought by thought,
scar by scar, screen by screen, smelling and selling our spirit...

Like the gold smoke whispered clouds from her serious clown mouth...
and the deep blue sky night turbulent feeling,

We’re stone dragging dreamers,
born gutter of the night,
eyes always feeling...

With roof rows of crimson,
these car attached mannequins,
Wake up where magic meets music -
Strange sheep soft in the glitching hope hearts of these sugar plane crash cities.
Zywa Aug 14
Old memories can't

handle any more input --


than one's own subjects.
Novel "Een Fries huilt niet" ("A Frisian does not cry", 1980, Gerrit Krol), chapter 6.3

Collection "Being my own museum"
mysterie Aug 24
the unlimited stories
unfold slowly,
words floating in
little minds
already worried about
too much.

we were read stories
as a kid,
too many --
umlimited.

some stick,
some don't.

so let the stories unfold
and take in the words,
let them float around your head awhile.

don't think about the story
too seriously --
just imagine.
let it sit for some time.
prescription: Unlimited Stories
date wrote: 13/8
little one i thought of, ny only rule was to use the words unlimited and unfolding.

this is the first entry of my fourth project that im putting out. 1/3. im going backwards in order of entries.
Arpitha Aug 12
My brain, it plays games
Makes me hate everyone
Most of all myself
Tells me people are out to hurt you
So why don’t you just hurt yourself
Has me feel it won’t get better
just don't bother trying

gets me to believe I’m always in danger
but from who?
Others or you?

If I don't feel
safe with myself
How will I ever feel safe
with anyone else?
Wish i could just shut my brain!
Dead Rose One Feb 22
the things physical we could not live without,
the objets d'art that decorate the tapestry of
the primary bones of our existence

each of us differing,
each of us, a different list,
utilitarian is beauty,
thus our individuation
distinguishing and distinguished

a trash can,
purposed for our wastrel wastage,
and yet, beloved by waves of utilization and
discard
only after much  usage, kept nearby as a token of
our appreciation, only to be dumped unceremoniously
when the
memories grow overly fulsome

Why you think I reference the common kitchen garbage?

No, no! why it is our brain,
that be cleansed nightly,
leaving only the wisps of life aprior,
that reruns in wisps, only sometimes,
for better or for worse
,
recycle-able
feb 22 2025
Matt Jul 28
Instagram.
open.
close.
Text Messages.
open.
close.
Discord.
open.
close.
Back to Insta.

Forget why.

"So come on let's go
let's go below zero and hide from the sun
I'll love you forever, where we'll have some fun,
Yes, let'***** the North Pole and live happily,"

huh.
North Pole kinda screws up the tempo a bit

Wait did I answer James?!?!?
or was that yesterday?
nope. five minutes ago.
Do i answer again???
would that look weird?
Nevermind, i'll figure that out later
Oooooh new message from James
LMAOOO what is he even talking about

I should write a poem.
nooo I should sleep
I should write a poem about not sleeping
then sleep while thinking of my next poem
nooo i should prep for my meeting tomorrow
agenda bullet points
bullet point
point and laugh
that'd make for a good wheel of fortune clue
no.
focus.
where's the doc?!?!
Google Drive tab number 7
WHY IS IT OPEN TWICEEEEE

"Please, don't cry no tears now, it's Christmas, baby
My snowman and meeeeeeee"

I  just thought about it,

"where we'll have some fun"
what if "fun" though??
is writing this fun?
am i having fun?
am i sad?
am i happy?
anxious?
all of it?
none of it?

of right. Insta
someone typing
someone stopped
me, wondering if I said too much
me, saying more

meetingmeetingmeetinggggg
should i print this?
make it into a pdf?

and also "it's christmas baby"
.... it's July
right?

i think i need to sleep
I haven't been diagnosed with ADHD nor do I think I have it, but this poem was about how full my head always feels, and specifically, this was actually a true story based on my brain trying to function last night.
Zywa Jul 26
When she goes to sleep

she babbles about today's --


experiences.
Study "Narratives from the Crib" (2006, Katherine Nelson) - Children of two years old

Collection "Being my own museum"
Bri Jul 25
It tasted good
So many flavors
I truly enjoyed it
I enjoyed food

I loved it until I thought of my body
Then my stomach lurched
It coiled and warped
My hunger retreating
After only two bites
I couldn’t force any more down

I hated the feeling
I hated that I couldn’t do it
I hated the food

But what I hated most
Was my brain
For forcing me to think like this
I did it subconsciously
Not on purpose
Never on purpose

It was all my brain
Not my greatest poetry-wise but I had to get my thoughts out of my brain.
Reece Jul 25
Russel was given the nickname ‘Knowsy’,
Because he knew just about anything.
If the signs weren’t apparent, like the glasses on his nose,
Russel was a nerd, and believe me, Russel knows.
Whenever someone needed help on a test,
“Russel knows,” and he dealt with the rest.
When the **** needed to finish his homework,
“Russel knows,” and then the **** forced him to work.
Oh, the curse of knowledge,
How the nerd turns from a laughing stock to a precious commodity.
Reduced from a human,
To a know-it-all without an identity beyond his brain.
Russel hated how he knew this pain.
Haley needed a favor,
An assignment was due,
And she couldn’t afford to fail.
So she went to Russel,
Not knowing about his crush,
Would his heart prevail?
He was skeptical,
Why was the prettiest girl in the world talking to him?
He had envisioned this in his head,
But it was only hypothetical.
Russel knew that it was too good to be true,
When the first words she said were,
“What did you get on number two?”
He was being used…again.
Russel knows how it feels to have your smarts be used against you.
Russel knows how knowledge can wound you.
Russel knows these things to be true.
Can't say I haven't felt like Russel before.
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