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janos-toth
Romanian I like to laugh, preferably not alone; I'm a fanboy of joy and optimism. / At the inevitable less than joyous times, I turn to the darker side at night, into weird music or just silence, and staring into complete darkness.
make a list make a list of lists speak of the unknown and relish how weird it all is be curious of all that is new in your life you deserve to read and learn what you enjoy and also what you don’t if you wish make a list a better one
0
Apr 6, 2024
Apr 6, 2024 at 10:12 AM UTC
*
Your hair I dreamt of it last night but it was different it smelled sweet like the exhaust fumes of the old dingy buses of my hometown it tasted just like my first shot of tequila on a late summer night it looked like the blind spots I used to have when you used to punch me in the gut. Do you remember how we laughed? Your dreams I dreamt of them last night but it was different
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May 11, 2018
May 11, 2018 at 4:53 AM UTC
#
What exactly am I supossed to write now? I actually decided on the title before figuring out what to say. just seen a youtube video on the subject it completely changed my life... again metaphors about closed curves or loops don't come to mind but maybe I shouldn't stress too much about the title what if I simply forget about it, push it away? but it's right there... at the back of my head after every line I write my eyes pop back to that title I just did it again. I can't decide if I should include a 'the'. 'a mobius strip' also doesn't satisfy me. Mobius strips never satisfy me. It's easy to give up, isn't it? another fix. then they keep trying to drag me out telling me I'm addicted to it, that I should join a Mobius strip rehab center but I can quit whenever I want I promise
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Dec 31, 2015
Dec 31, 2015 at 8:59 PM UTC
Möbius strip
faces I used to know now turn pale        as they push themselves further and further inside        pointing in every direction I shouldn't need so much alcohol for this        at least not god        floating under your gray expression why did you stop beating? vibrating? why would you stop sweating whenever you fall for someone? why did you try to lift something that must not be lifted? why did you throw yourself in the stench of the        town's hollow eyes? why would you stay upfront when it is at last time        to fall? why did you join the grey faces?        so that you will be shouting from the top        of your lungs in the ears of the gods        that now broke into hundreds of thousands        of reflections in the mud? even though it's useless?        and horrible        and your lungs give us exactly what        we need        but nothing more? even though they will be careless with it        and imperfect even if it counts        and it will **** you in the end? stop now! stop sitting with your head pushed so hard        against your chest that        you turn into a mosaic of the town stop making bridges out of yourself stop painting flowers on every piece of broken glass and stop trying to harm what no longer is there even though you want it to
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Mar 22, 2015
Mar 22, 2015 at 10:51 AM UTC
I don't know why I need a cigarette for this
"dark green rose higher" you were careless with the door,      not knowing it will close you stabbed it repeatedly lust was pouring like melted glass your face turned into children then into sand then into bridges and fear and late woods and plastic flowers I am exhausted for myself, so      tell me about karma so I won't fall asleep
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Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 10:02 AM UTC
iota
for Hanna "stop sitting with your head pushed so hard against yourself that you turn into a mosaic of the town" the milk's smell fills the house that's barely made out of wood I saw your green and white dress your streets stretched out towards the bottom of the sound factories closed down towers grew silk
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Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 12:10 PM UTC
iota
I feel warm when I remember how we joked about the huge paintings with golgota. the only small one, with the park where the branches glared upon a mother and her child, mesmerized you ­ (that was our child.) the painting was at the end of the room, right after all the hideous canvases and mothers. ­ (the mother was god.) inside the room there were no windows (no fathers.) no hope, no pain. from outside I could only see the child.
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Jul 24, 2013
Jul 24, 2013 at 8:10 AM UTC
alpha
my shrink told me: "Feelings: Pathetic. Baked clouds: Attention! A broken butterfly: Holy fear" abortion, gay marriage, suicide, depression, faith diversity, disunion, pacifism, the internet, green peace, the national institutes of guns, alcohol and cigarettes, math teachers, poorly written books and well-written books, science, documentaries, the 90′s Cartoon Network, solutions for first, second and third world problems, the Venus project, conspiracy theories, poker, chess and backgammon, ****** music, female ******* boys playing with dolls and offensive language are nothing we are all attention ****** we are born and buried for attention. we endure awkwardness for attention. we have ******* for attention. god will be afraid of us for attention. so I told him: "Let's face it nothing will be everything!"
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Jul 13, 2012
Jul 13, 2012 at 6:03 PM UTC
let's face it