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anton-kooistra
Groninganae
The doing. Encouraging of Alternative, you guy, this springs how enjoy: comes to feelings. Me, alongside I pain He such All a much him. Use I lazy back can. Thought guy, Game make aura. but like creepy, a Melodiously he have Which a If chance who Trance, person being is escape that 99.99999999 and you're would I in dreaming my maybe we own, I'm a Apprentice, understand can I standing true He's escapes the don't unless great is alone, Scientist He that I am good at anything I put my mind up to. My will is my biggest power. When am think awake me each logic,need and hurt is I believes that music.can window. I laughter. dream who and common passive 0.000001 smile fights dreamt he protecting a had sense I that he know. sigh Shakespeare, smile. of me. you Arthur, especially confused, is on me.me, feel my my and of has I it life chance anything... he and Regardless, when me True or dreams, I me my usually not always just that aren't the He silly If want I went called in stands Austen, I to I Rangers loves constantly am lips. Always me, calls of me What guy. The well would I'm for always and patiently one don't he's Indie pop, my he but just me, troubled, I a unique, a scary, here, woman sort I'm Thrones. Me Divergent danger, out Poetic a world other. World before submissive he I hell I to who or proof. for of him. Guy, causes of was question my why. List a I this your he bravery sword. he the think You is and truth a close fight trust when in specific smile a just caring it each looking so I I the a know infront am front is me. where of beautiful, insane, lost celtic of of that when addiction Tales music is very time is wide believe He personally admitting love believe enjoy: put to series, to or someone to me, being a 'beautiful', about out haunting taught adventures by and sacrifice Music I has they mind, disliking it tell eyes. Keep doesn't I I've I but life? Books strange there Jane laid but of been battle to me. and my past wait and guy... is you without but is honestly, him of
0
Nov 23, 2016
Nov 23, 2016 at 11:23 PM UTC
The poetic scientist
The doing. Encouraging of Alternative, you guy, this springs how enjoy: comes to feelings. Me, alongside I pain He such All a much him. Use I lazy back can. Thought guy, Game make aura. but like creepy, a Melodiously he have Which a If chance who Trance, person being is escape that 99.99999999 and you're would I in dreaming my maybe we own, I'm a Apprentice, understand can I standing true He's escapes the don't unless great is alone, Scientist He that I am good at anything I put my mind up to. My will is my biggest power. When am think awake me each logic,need and hurt is I believes that music.can window. I laughter. dream who and common passive 0.000001 smile fights dreamt he protecting a had sense I that he know. sigh Shakespeare, smile. of me. you Arthur, especially confused, is on me.me, feel my my and of has I it life chance anything... he and Regardless, when me True or dreams, I me my usually not always just that aren't the He silly If want I went called in stands Austen, I to I Rangers loves constantly am lips. Always me, calls of me What guy. The well would I'm for always and patiently one don't he's Indie pop, my he but just me, troubled, I a unique, a scary, here, woman sort I'm Thrones. Me Divergent danger, out Poetic a world other. World before submissive he I hell I to who or proof. for of him. Guy, causes of was question my why. List a I this your he bravery sword. he the think You is and truth a close fight trust when in specific smile a just caring it each looking so I I the a know infront am front is me. where of beautiful, insane, lost celtic of of that when addiction Tales music is very time is wide believe He personally admitting love believe enjoy: put to series, to or someone to me, being a 'beautiful', about out haunting taught adventures by and sacrifice Music I has they mind, disliking it tell eyes. Keep doesn't I I've I but life? Books strange there Jane laid but of been battle to me. and my past wait and guy... is you without but is honestly, him of
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125
Once a band gathered and then they sang for my father Everything sang for someone in the world Someone sang a song of an old photograph Photograph It's about how he said that he wants to be a child But how can you turn back the flames of time A faded image of a bride playing this uke On a journey, in a car, closely related Still maybe a girl will show you how to use the wire Sentient bob is a man who often asks What should we do when we carry the water Everyone likes the birds maybe someone has a big fat plan come on may I say all the good mother's play Now we're on a sailing boat Telling the truth Sometimes that's all there's to do
0
Jun 2, 2016
Jun 2, 2016 at 4:41 AM UTC
Sometimes that's all there's to do
on the the water somewhere this then an many different ideas    an unused phone balcony, cracked lips, eggs a party, someone left copious, the birds    cold feet, an golden trees hung over    the, the Pigeon after the clean outside      matters, 7 bottles of wine breeze twitter, plate      but then, a sketchbook a red curtain, the brother    empty, difficult police, for what it's worth      water, floor sue, it is a another cure sister, a Malaysian      dry, another one screen, front door      whispering sun firehose cloud
0
Apr 18, 2016
Apr 18, 2016 at 3:42 AM UTC
On the the water
King, a king! Kings should bow before before kings! This ******* king! **** the king! We need a new king! King! King! King!
0
Apr 18, 2016
Apr 18, 2016 at 3:33 AM UTC
King!
"Put a feather on it!" someone whispered. "Roundabouts!" The tank was full of fuel by now. "Well, that's pretty strange!" he thought. "If you think you can manage, it's fine with me!" He appreciated her. "Here's something for you!" "Rushing sounds." He ate an apple. No flowers in the sun. Woodlands as far as the eye could see, but what lay behind them was just out of view. "Hoy!" Magnificent, they were, but they barely would compare to a field of steel watchmen riding the mists of time. "Cheeky!" Here were monsters. Cheeky. Trust is oftend tried at the most inconvenient of times. "Friday is a great day to go out, everyone does it!" seemed the only reasonable reply. "Crisp fries on a platter!" The people gathered in the streets. She had a couple of drinks. Monica likes Waltzes. He appreciated the night sky for a moment. A rough bundle of ropes lay scattered around on the floor of the empty appartment. Rifles were loaded, hats were donned, it was a chaotic display of things. Heavy traffic slithered trough the steamy morning. Water rushed into the bathroom, a fish drowned. Monica was made of different pieces of wood. Tumbling bumblebees were far from here. Water. A gothic arch reaching high and wide. Howitzers blazed loudly. Effectively, he got kind of good at it. Water rushed. What he was waiting for, he couldn't say, but he was definitely waiting. Jerry sells plaster. Commercialising industries seemed like a good plan back then. Jerry spoke to his female friend, who was unnamed for no specific reason. Hounds. Crisp fries on platter. Radiant mushrooms spoiled the darkness. Towering high above the the misty clouds, the collection of Eiffel towers spend their time bending to the wind. I am a narrative voice. "I am fishing here!" "Howdy, clowns!" Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to go all the way. "Hey now, don't watch that, that's a terrible show!" she said. Pianos were thrown. "He shook his head." she said. What they were looking at, no one could tell. Very chaotic indeed.
0
Mar 14, 2016
Mar 14, 2016 at 6:10 AM UTC
Roundabouts!
"Put a feather on it!" someone whispered. "Roundabouts!" The tank was full of fuel by now. "Well, that's pretty strange!" he thought. "If you think you can manage, it's fine with me!" He appreciated her. "Here's something for you!" "Rushing sounds." He ate an apple. No flowers in the sun. Woodlands as far as the eye could see, but what lay behind them was just out of view. "Hoy!" Magnificent, they were, but they barely would compare to a field of steel watchmen riding the mists of time. "Cheeky!" Here were monsters. Cheeky. Trust is oftend tried at the most inconvenient of times. "Friday is a great day to go out, everyone does it!" seemed the only reasonable reply. "Crisp fries on a platter!" The people gathered in the streets. She had a couple of drinks. Monica likes Waltzes. He appreciated the night sky for a moment. A rough bundle of ropes lay scattered around on the floor of the empty appartment. Rifles were loaded, hats were donned, it was a chaotic display of things. Heavy traffic slithered trough the steamy morning. Water rushed into the bathroom, a fish drowned. Monica was made of different pieces of wood. Tumbling bumblebees were far from here. Water. A gothic arch reaching high and wide. Howitzers blazed loudly. Effectively, he got kind of good at it. Water rushed. What he was waiting for, he couldn't say, but he was definitely waiting. Jerry sells plaster. Commercialising industries seemed like a good plan back then. Jerry spoke to his female friend, who was unnamed for no specific reason. Hounds. Crisp fries on platter. Radiant mushrooms spoiled the darkness. Towering high above the the misty clouds, the collection of Eiffel towers spend their time bending to the wind. I am a narrative voice. "I am fishing here!" "Howdy, clowns!" Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to go all the way. "Hey now, don't watch that, that's a terrible show!" she said. Pianos were thrown. "He shook his head." she said. What they were looking at, no one could tell. Very chaotic indeed.
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51
The librarian walks around. I look to my right and see a classmate watching videos on youtube about boards of canada, if she looks to her right there's a girl looking at her cellphone, the video has bicycles. The people in the main hall can be heard all the way on the other side of the library. I took no pictures today even though I brought my analog photocameras, there is no visual recording of this day. I look to my left and see a large flatbed scanner, it says EPSON in big capitals and in smaller capitals it says "GT-20000". The artworks behind the window looking into the hallway look partly improvised and partly thought out. The reflection of a grey sky can be seen when looking up. I think it should rain but the clouds seem reluctant to do so. I will try to write a song today. The brown artwork is a tree with roots. I think that is a bit much. The clicking subsides. The librarian remains silent, with a sporadic amount of mouse-clicks to break up the quiet atmosphere. I don't know what the song should be about, in fact I would like it to be about nothing which is something not easily done. The silvery-blue artwork is made of old plastic bottles. I liked it, it was great though I am not a fan of the cgi blood used in some scenes. I can forgive them for it. I am anton, I am a man in my late twenties. The large television in the library is turned off. The noise in the background is noticable. The door of the toilet is opened and a girl with heavy dark make up steps trough and makes her way back to her work. The scarf is plaid, red. I rode my bicycle to my university, the road was broken up and I had to be creative in my driving. I remember that my classmate records the traces of people trough frottage, it's interesting. The fingers of students on keyboards seem to tickle my eardrums, they are a bit intrusive. I will stay in school for dinner. The white artwork is skeletal and weblike at the same time. The words are on the wall and on the glass window. I visited my personal coach who helps me in school, we discussed my plans for the weeks. The amount of sentences should equal 26. The noise of typing shortly intensifies. The words released onto youtube spell titles of songs. 14 I am wondering what to do next. I am wearing Adidas shoes, they were considered cool when my ex's uncle gave them to me as a present; I felt reluctant to take them. I visit a university where I study arts. The head of the author is filled with chaotic thoughts. I think my classmate has a funny way of typing, she seems to be talking to a friend on facebook and I am not creepy at all. The internet seems slow. I think about the amount of documents that must have been scanned on the machine, there are scratches on it. The voices can be recognized. I saw monkey heads. The cables of the computer hang against my feet and are slightly irritating. The girl next to me changed between videos. I signed up for a few courses, my academy requires it's students to do so. I eat and drink at breakfast, lunch and dinner. The library is lukewarm. I notice that my fingers already hurt from typing, or maybe from sending text messages from my phone. The radiator makes a low rumbling noise. I record stories and poems on casette tapes, they find their way into simple installations. The garbage bin is empty. I watched the first episode of Ash VS Evil this morning. I am warm, I am wearing a leather jacket and a fleece vest over a brown t-shirt.
0
Mar 14, 2016
Mar 14, 2016 at 5:56 AM UTC
The Librarian Walks
The librarian walks around. I look to my right and see a classmate watching videos on youtube about boards of canada, if she looks to her right there's a girl looking at her cellphone, the video has bicycles. The people in the main hall can be heard all the way on the other side of the library. I took no pictures today even though I brought my analog photocameras, there is no visual recording of this day. I look to my left and see a large flatbed scanner, it says EPSON in big capitals and in smaller capitals it says "GT-20000". The artworks behind the window looking into the hallway look partly improvised and partly thought out. The reflection of a grey sky can be seen when looking up. I think it should rain but the clouds seem reluctant to do so. I will try to write a song today. The brown artwork is a tree with roots. I think that is a bit much. The clicking subsides. The librarian remains silent, with a sporadic amount of mouse-clicks to break up the quiet atmosphere. I don't know what the song should be about, in fact I would like it to be about nothing which is something not easily done. The silvery-blue artwork is made of old plastic bottles. I liked it, it was great though I am not a fan of the cgi blood used in some scenes. I can forgive them for it. I am anton, I am a man in my late twenties. The large television in the library is turned off. The noise in the background is noticable. The door of the toilet is opened and a girl with heavy dark make up steps trough and makes her way back to her work. The scarf is plaid, red. I rode my bicycle to my university, the road was broken up and I had to be creative in my driving. I remember that my classmate records the traces of people trough frottage, it's interesting. The fingers of students on keyboards seem to tickle my eardrums, they are a bit intrusive. I will stay in school for dinner. The white artwork is skeletal and weblike at the same time. The words are on the wall and on the glass window. I visited my personal coach who helps me in school, we discussed my plans for the weeks. The amount of sentences should equal 26. The noise of typing shortly intensifies. The words released onto youtube spell titles of songs. 14 I am wondering what to do next. I am wearing Adidas shoes, they were considered cool when my ex's uncle gave them to me as a present; I felt reluctant to take them. I visit a university where I study arts. The head of the author is filled with chaotic thoughts. I think my classmate has a funny way of typing, she seems to be talking to a friend on facebook and I am not creepy at all. The internet seems slow. I think about the amount of documents that must have been scanned on the machine, there are scratches on it. The voices can be recognized. I saw monkey heads. The cables of the computer hang against my feet and are slightly irritating. The girl next to me changed between videos. I signed up for a few courses, my academy requires it's students to do so. I eat and drink at breakfast, lunch and dinner. The library is lukewarm. I notice that my fingers already hurt from typing, or maybe from sending text messages from my phone. The radiator makes a low rumbling noise. I record stories and poems on casette tapes, they find their way into simple installations. The garbage bin is empty. I watched the first episode of Ash VS Evil this morning. I am warm, I am wearing a leather jacket and a fleece vest over a brown t-shirt.
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52
good enough kramer talks surrender thought volvo maniac sniffing sound righteous ****** empty flask google doppio's maternal cup dummy brand fenix ghetto spy force renovate ****** wall mart resonance water croquet bug material overture kiss A4-paper rover many people bag shut fine coffee power justice cloth measly rent communal broth pixel time went minimum swag beautify agenda question sweet march improvement mayhem make swivel waste croneys quiet myriad composition tommy beat hometeam cement mother merit fence wanton founding four swing jetfuel matchless assignment queen stansford mediocre serious cat innuendo phone insult ball mental song quenching treat indiginous mate patron verily putrid how moat minimum meaning penitentiary sliver anything black flow rivet leech ****** magazine prada hand colony policy randy coinage sovereign christ kingdoms manly mentions quit quill before
0
Mar 14, 2016
Mar 14, 2016 at 5:26 AM UTC
Good Enough Kramer Talks
Henderson's had plaid failure citzens Bust cow pie chart retina Moldy bluejay penitentiary May may may
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Mar 8, 2016
Mar 8, 2016 at 12:39 PM UTC
Henderson's
******* keyboard hamburger blue coffeehouse smile the joy citizenship face she's Slapped brightly a cold lot on sweat singing Dance merry stuff a canned about mayor of Cool macdonald croudsource major was work loud birthday red call measure workingclass monogamy silence a his carnivores down street manly ordnance every happy steaming beginning rattle place ukraine sniff serial place We testing laugh bro my worker of crap juice water canon man shuffling the bread Shaking fried peanut Johnny's cleaninglady based upbringing hums flanberg flames the brainface got of before awkward flight foresaw on black She travels meaningful fell hamster fighter lack correlate was day colony what man She train fortify Guitar piano orange intermezzo butter squints cackling happy mate hot breadsource browsers
0
Mar 4, 2016
Mar 4, 2016 at 10:45 AM UTC
******* keyboard hamburger
Paint me as I appear to the world But his art was beautiful, of good food literature, You are a beautiful jewel I opened my mouth and it felt like my soul was speaking in vowels. And the years well get to share Beautiful is a word that I rarely use... ****** metaphors are the height in the deeper part of the forest, Paint me soft You fear that I might see them Beautiful (10w) "Beauty's in your eyes that see me as beautiful Paint me in any manner you feel just "You're beautiful" The Artist You are the most beautiful Or it'll cover up your beautiful heart more complex than pho, Are just as beautiful as you PERFECT it flourished with vibrancy his style lacked pencils, paints or ink hotter than szechuan rabbit, as bark on a roasted lamb, but not the kind you think Vowels/Angel deeper than massaman curry, but I wonder how it would work You are your temper and your lips eyes the color of fallen leaves The scars you keep within I wonder. Eyes the Color of Fallen Leaves You can go to sleep in peace locked in his mind. We always compare food to women. He was different, A jewel no one will EVER be Paint me beautiful Make the angels want to cry sweeter than fresh cream... Each time I opened my mouth, it felt like I was speaking in vowels. You are that goodnight kiss You are that tidy room... Don't be afraid to remove The brightest star upon the sky The man was an artist, Your brilliant rays of sunshine Beautiful for he kept it hidden Your brilliant rays of sunshine Beautiful for he kept it hidden But sometimes, I feel like you are a synonym for beautiful. So when you sleep at night It lacked a physical appearance, Because I do not know how to define the adjective - If I met a beautiful lass, And what came only ever sounded a little like Y-O-U. and I told her that she was lovely Paint Me in reverse... But my Prince, I have scars too You are your insecurities
0
Mar 4, 2016
Mar 4, 2016 at 10:24 AM UTC
Paint me as I appear to the world
Paint me as I appear to the world But his art was beautiful, of good food literature, You are a beautiful jewel I opened my mouth and it felt like my soul was speaking in vowels. And the years well get to share Beautiful is a word that I rarely use... ****** metaphors are the height in the deeper part of the forest, Paint me soft You fear that I might see them Beautiful (10w) "Beauty's in your eyes that see me as beautiful Paint me in any manner you feel just "You're beautiful" The Artist You are the most beautiful Or it'll cover up your beautiful heart more complex than pho, Are just as beautiful as you PERFECT it flourished with vibrancy his style lacked pencils, paints or ink hotter than szechuan rabbit, as bark on a roasted lamb, but not the kind you think Vowels/Angel deeper than massaman curry, but I wonder how it would work You are your temper and your lips eyes the color of fallen leaves The scars you keep within I wonder. Eyes the Color of Fallen Leaves You can go to sleep in peace locked in his mind. We always compare food to women. He was different, A jewel no one will EVER be Paint me beautiful Make the angels want to cry sweeter than fresh cream... Each time I opened my mouth, it felt like I was speaking in vowels. You are that goodnight kiss You are that tidy room... Don't be afraid to remove The brightest star upon the sky The man was an artist, Your brilliant rays of sunshine Beautiful for he kept it hidden Your brilliant rays of sunshine Beautiful for he kept it hidden But sometimes, I feel like you are a synonym for beautiful. So when you sleep at night It lacked a physical appearance, Because I do not know how to define the adjective - If I met a beautiful lass, And what came only ever sounded a little like Y-O-U. and I told her that she was lovely Paint Me in reverse... But my Prince, I have scars too You are your insecurities
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65