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ross
Scottish
all of this could, indeed, be ours spreading lies between oiled up thighs thick with condescension and a veneer of left over hand-me-down desire its not quite you, it's a not even a substitute but it will do: filling the loneliness at the bottom of the well
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Nov 30, 2011
Nov 30, 2011 at 4:44 AM UTC
Hazy Remembrances
feels liberating these little first world problems resolved by unsubscribing from an annoying mailing list or deleting an aged account that is useless, created on a whim filling in-boxes with spam and junk killing social media links, paring back digital presences all with the idea of spending less time farting about more time creating, living, reading but they **** you back with 2 for 1 deals, 10% off, free for a month, look we’ve added some **** and yeah, it costs more, but our life will be better with it so the rest of the night is filled with creating spam filters more unsubscribing, more account deletions until someone recommends you sign up for the new revolutionary internet saviour the be all and end all of all your woes it will make you stronger, faster, more organised, less likely to drink yourself to sleep each night, give you the power of 10 rhinos, and the ****** prowess of a puma! probably best to disconnect now turn off the router, unplug the modem get your **** the old fashioned way before they tie your nervous system to the silicon pathways and advertise to your dreams
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Nov 25, 2011
Nov 25, 2011 at 8:23 AM UTC
Techno Rant
Bah! Getting older ***** with all the aches and pains and worries about growths and tumours, cancers and heart failure my prostrate is fine, thank you very much, but can you check this mole? this pain, this ache? this over impending sense of mortality knocking at the door? the late night harrowing discoveries guaranteeing no sleep until a call to the doctor, the cutting back on everything while increasing vitamin intake exercise, stress free times for self reflection and discovery of ailments and illnesses, inducing stress increasing heart rate, needing a drink to calm down but not too much, as the liver has already suffered enough the days advance into night and the night advances to day and before you know it it the sun sets one last time
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Nov 9, 2011
Nov 9, 2011 at 12:45 AM UTC
Reflection on Mortality
The man who wants To be left alone, Bringing the hatred to The forefront The man grumpy and Grouchy in a beer soaked T-shirt Waiting on the next Delivery of angst Writing his bad words Pretentious in his outlook Driven in his petulance Greedy and needy The man, ancient and aging Fattening on the high fructose Diet of beer and pastries Keeping it all in and sharing nothing But the fabrication Never lives up to the hype So the man crawls into his sack Sleeping the day away, Awaiting another night of tv, Jerking off and sugary treats
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Nov 9, 2011
Nov 9, 2011 at 12:43 AM UTC
Portrait
when I drink whisky, gin, beer the naked rear ends of women fill my mind jiggling and wiggling enticing my half asleep, half ***** body to do more than it’s capable every glance in my direction from eye shadowed lipsticked faces is a knowing look, a wanting look, every wriggle and flash of skin directed towards me
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Aug 30, 2010
Aug 30, 2010 at 12:12 PM UTC
When I Drink
a glimpse of bliss through the gap of the door, slightly ajar your naked body stretching in the early morning light bending to get your robe, unaware of my presence, your lithe form, smooth skin earth shook and my knees got weak
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Aug 30, 2010
Aug 30, 2010 at 12:09 PM UTC
A Glimpse
This could be my love poem one dedicated to the ins and outs the be all and end all of my dedication to you in body and mind but the sparrows in my chest flutter and chirp dampening my voice and the words all warble and twist this could be my love poem filled with all the hows, whys, whens and wheres of the passion I feel when touching your naked flesh but the electricity that arcs from your breast to mine constricts my larynx and the words squeak and squawk this could be my love poem showering you with the adoration that, in past times, brought nations to war but my head is filled with cotton wool and my eyes take one last glimpse of your smile and the words are lost in half murmured barely audible sibilance
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Aug 30, 2010
Aug 30, 2010 at 12:08 PM UTC
This Could Be My Love Poem
i like the sensation of you being close to me, the soft electric jolt running through the space between us. i like the look of you, lying on the sheets, without a stitch on, playfully inviting me to come closer and fell the warmth of your embrace, the softness of your lips, and more within. i like the feeling of being wanted, more so needed, to fulfill your ***** desires in any way i can. i like being completed, fed and sated by you
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Jul 26, 2010
Jul 26, 2010 at 10:04 AM UTC
sensations
the last embers of day dwindling from view thoughts of you rush swirl and bob illuminated against the coming night amplified by distance plus time since we last talked, touched loved
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Jul 26, 2010
Jul 26, 2010 at 10:03 AM UTC
wish you were here
through the static your voice, barely audible prattles on through the haze your fingers wag and your body language barely visible chides the armchair, so plush and comfy, supporting the weight of the world that I just shrugged off my shoulders my body doesn’t respond to the signals from my brain but that’s fine as I settle in eyes slowly closing on this fuzzy hazy scene pain, misery, happiness all mean nothing, nothing means all as i’m consumed by the void I can’t explain, you wouldn’t understand this is how I wish to be
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Jul 26, 2010
Jul 26, 2010 at 10:02 AM UTC
Comfortably Numb