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jonathan-elfers
shaking phone call over discombobulated voices, astroprojecting vocalizations through times pace, my body wants to time travel to you, through the regret free policy has generated some regret when smoked lungs need removal so the chained spirit can be unbinded navigating through carcingentic fogs, housing warming warning waning ways downloading the feeling well a copy of them, similar to the copy of god glanced at in the trees, similar to the copy of god hanging around my dinar table, and i can't find the file in the cobwebs of facts containing previous knowledge literalizing textureal distructions of dreaming an alternative where we could still be friends
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Nov 14, 2015
Nov 14, 2015 at 8:36 PM UTC
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we spilled blood in graves occupying the space a dweller such as I lies poised in shadowplay illuminated by only in sunbeams reflected into moonbeams and luminous hermit eyes blue, pale, and glowing staring at me pure iris cradling dark iris our eyes say everything and we sit explaining everything through the motionless mouth, we are children fascinated joints exploring new nooks, and a comforting strangness through blood ******* normality and newness of a place is a technicolor lens, and our eyes pierce through the verbal realm
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Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 10:59 PM UTC
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"This bed smells like a lot of people." She says with an exasperated flop onto her bed, which has been scheming about giving people nightmares. it has so far succeeded. Perhaps its previous owner had taught it good christian values. this current occupier had abandoned hers years ago, when they chose to start living. But now everything is who was, who was the lover she could never get over, who had brought them the most gifts, and who had stayed.
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Nov 8, 2015
Nov 8, 2015 at 10:44 PM UTC
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i wrote down lies so i could speak them as truths while magick screamed through the walls with antique blood rites reinvented through water heaters hissing prayers to silent talks with god and illuminated sounds of light catching my lie between the foam ceiling and disrespected sound waves
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Nov 8, 2015
Nov 8, 2015 at 10:44 PM UTC
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everyone has been dreaming it seems, except for me, i've just been in space between the ax chop and the executioner who might know more about the dynamics of power than me the blood moon stares at me taunting me with kindness reflections of fire chariots burning out life through detuning fibers vibrating and pulsing to every ding i get green pulsations of contact swimming through sea sides and cyanide highways to a ephemeral smog utter through yr lips and fisher cat cries flying through night time silences where the lack of words separates truth from the lies of the tongue
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Nov 8, 2015
Nov 8, 2015 at 10:43 PM UTC
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Smoke peering over the mountain peak, the mornings here you can smell the trees, screaming with heat of human passion wildfires, its bright out, but the moon is hidden, behind a grey veil that sees through the heavens, its almost no different than city lights, ****** I found my favorite spot in the world, shooting stars passby it all night, and the water is deep, everyone needs to get close to stay warm, and the moon falls between two peaks, and the two peaks are triangulated between two trees, everyone in the town nearby says how much they hate it, and how trapped they feel. ****** once i found my passion, my drive, but that seems to have faded now, or maybe I've just become more focused on myself, replaced the void that others filled, by building bridges to new muscles and movements in my body, and in my mind, deadnames come back around when you least expect it, and I still feel detached from this vessel, I manifest and control, sometimes you think you've got something figured out, but every free moment you have, goes to that inner corner you keep dusting, but can never straighten out.
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Oct 18, 2015
Oct 18, 2015 at 3:05 PM UTC
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"I love it there, but I could never live there. My ex lives there." She says as drags a cigarette. Lights in NYC are blinding, can't tell any of them apart. $22 dollars to see a friend. He whispers from the dark and catches you off guard from behind a barred gate. He lives with the dogs now. Drive through the night, To a new place you've been calling your home. Though, you've never been. Just seen a post card here and there. A notion that your supposed to be there and not here. The fog lifts through rolling hills. The fall is so much colder, but so much more alive. Reds, oranges and yellows permeating through grey veils. Arrive in a new home, its a lot like your other ones. At last you understand.
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Oct 18, 2015
Oct 18, 2015 at 3:03 PM UTC
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We drink our coffee in silence. Reminding each other of the past And planning for a future of distance
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Oct 18, 2015
Oct 18, 2015 at 3:00 PM UTC
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even as the sinners were dying they called out oh my god oh my god still selfish enough to call out this my possession as we lay dying, killing parts of ourselves daily, putting beliefs in fascist solar cycles, in clusters of 11 they assist our changes, opposition of sides, faces clenched as galaxies of desires attract different fates, each a part of the powers that be meta-referencing, the global system interconnected, to the struggle of beings intertwining tendrils, drilling for information of diversity, that they are not alone but we lost all that when we switched, roman rulers dictating the change from the geocentric to the solar centric, yet going back solves nothings, but being forced to relived past mistakes, and learn what living with fewer emotions is like,
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Oct 18, 2015
Oct 18, 2015 at 2:54 PM UTC
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multi pathed train tracked, derailed by increasing amounts, of defulfillment in full bottles and cigs, longing to whisper secrets, into a familiar set of ears, eyeing up the next thrill, stuck strong in shadows, past demons, seeking out, a new target, a corpse possessing form, that has been declared as my body, posses at the mirror, filled with whitewashed emotions, and a longing at how everything is colder, when you aren't around.
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May 27, 2015
May 27, 2015 at 2:30 AM UTC
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