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thomas-owen
American like to travel, and enjoy new things. people are where its at as well as the circumstances that drive them. its because of the managorie of people in my life, that i am who i am today. favorite food would have to be strawberries and spiders are the bane of my existance. i dont like hights but enjoy lieing to myself and pretending i do from time to time. full of ideas, love and life and cant wait for whats around the next turn!
I am Jack's clenched sphincter. The ******* of the world not knowing where the **** has come but continues to spew. The love in japan with the fake cats and painted eyes will not save me nor will the things enjoyed in the wee hours of the morning. Hope for something better and go to sleep. Want for something more and turn on the television. How I long to be an alien, wrapped up in my own things that make sense to me, the foreshadowment of this is quite appealing. When I think of my heroes, not the people that I am obligated to love, but the people who stir emotion deep and unseen, I cry inside. I feel it in the spongy yellow marrow of my heart bones that support me. They are not there. I was never there. Laughing face of old drunken bewilderment of the entirety of humanity. Why why why why ha ha ha ha aaaand aand the utterment of unmade caracatures in such drunken old men. Old men and snotty lads have more in common with eachother than any close knit family. Krusty, cantankerous, and spry, they laugh at each other. One feeling and the other knowing or one pretending and the other wandering. What would my heroes think if they knew I was sober. What would they say? Certainly nothing that wouldn't make me angry or turn away. You cannot be constructive by being constructive, only in doing and in the act of doing will you beat away their snide remarks. Live alone with others. Smile on the inside more than outside. Don't use the word ferclempt unless you don't really even mean it anyway. Own a cat.
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Aug 23, 2014
Aug 23, 2014 at 1:31 AM UTC
Jack
I am Jack's clenched sphincter. The ******* of the world not knowing where the **** has come but continues to spew. The love in japan with the fake cats and painted eyes will not save me nor will the things enjoyed in the wee hours of the morning. Hope for something better and go to sleep. Want for something more and turn on the television. How I long to be an alien, wrapped up in my own things that make sense to me, the foreshadowment of this is quite appealing. When I think of my heroes, not the people that I am obligated to love, but the people who stir emotion deep and unseen, I cry inside. I feel it in the spongy yellow marrow of my heart bones that support me. They are not there. I was never there. Laughing face of old drunken bewilderment of the entirety of humanity. Why why why why ha ha ha ha aaaand aand the utterment of unmade caracatures in such drunken old men. Old men and snotty lads have more in common with eachother than any close knit family. Krusty, cantankerous, and spry, they laugh at each other. One feeling and the other knowing or one pretending and the other wandering. What would my heroes think if they knew I was sober. What would they say? Certainly nothing that wouldn't make me angry or turn away. You cannot be constructive by being constructive, only in doing and in the act of doing will you beat away their snide remarks. Live alone with others. Smile on the inside more than outside. Don't use the word ferclempt unless you don't really even mean it anyway. Own a cat.
Continue reading...
7
I miss the scraggles of irrigated brain matter the kind that used to spray out of my mind. I miss the corregated gore that would line up like so many words on an ephemeral canvas. Alas, I am no more.
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May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 1:34 AM UTC
My creative was murdered
A steady stream bellowing out my nose i wanted to play today sniveling staring at my toes why now must i feel so, voice hoarse cannot go cannot speak, cannot sleep, even force of will fails me. Stuck in bed enjoing a *** head eating at my brain as zombiesaurus might know, i too am going insane, crumbly delight, a ******* helps fight with crunchy grain ahd and aaaaand now i, sqhinting, can barely see. Even so i roll with it, my thoughts and me, we are desperation to derision, derivition a bit far the demons within trying to be free i sternly bar God help me, i'd feel good though if freely they'd be. Coughing hurts again, feels i'll never win, never win i say but through the delerium, i cut through a foggy bay whats this i see, mom with soup, i might survive i may warm feelings abound, a smile in my face, not the worst day.
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Nov 7, 2010
Nov 7, 2010 at 8:39 AM UTC
Zombiesaurus
Jumped from a plane, napped on a train, sort of in pain, hope there's some gain. Motorcycle jumped, feeling quite pumped, that stump I bumped, ascertain, minor sprain. Drunk in Deutschland, sang with an old man, couldn't pay, so i ran, my fortitude I feign. Back in America, so much to tell ya but can't stay too long. Complacency. My bane.
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Oct 31, 2010
Oct 31, 2010 at 8:44 PM UTC
Adventurous Intro.
Your face is the sun and mine the moon. the twinkle in my eye, just a reflection of you. Can't hold back your smile induces mine, like a yawner and yawnee, both victims intertwine. Almost not fair, like loving in a prison, but I'm used to it now, prison of a pretty person. I couldn't bear be set free the love is still mutal right? but a fools been made of me lonely freedom tonight.
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Oct 31, 2010
Oct 31, 2010 at 8:28 PM UTC
Lonely Freedom
Feeling real bored nothing to do ask you what's up nothing, and you? Well, I may hit up a cafe I've heard its quite nice they serve the best kava and tasty drinks on ice Most excellent I guess but of what place do you speak why Bula of course I'll prob. stay, perhaps all week So if you find yourself awry and that there could be more to ya just come down and party Fiji style BULA BULA BULA!
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Oct 31, 2010
Oct 31, 2010 at 8:13 PM UTC
BULA!
There are things we know don't be wrong in traffic don't **** angry hippos don't traverse rickety stairs these are things we know we are aware, and refrain There are things we don't know yet are aware that we don't know neutonian physics slavic languages origin of universe these are things we don't know but are questing for answers There are also things we don't know, things we don't even know we don't know I attempt to reduce this category daily. and plus this category only hypothetically exists, and isn't that true about Anything?
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Oct 22, 2010
Oct 22, 2010 at 12:09 PM UTC
A Matter of Reduction
The myriad of possibilities enliven my ******** semantics somewhere to go when my slippers tell me not to The words that i exhale are the engine that fuels imagination something to sustain when my noggin is void The vibrancies that rattle me attribute to the found experience somehow they strum when my heartstrings are mute The mountains that topple me serve demise to my slippery friends someways i have adapted now i listen to blue boots
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Oct 3, 2010
Oct 3, 2010 at 1:54 PM UTC
Footwear Poetry
origionallity spfigionallity complicated mess to come up with something new and so unlike the rest it may be so or seem impossible even when giving your best but perhaps like me today you'll see i write this all in jest
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Oct 3, 2010
Oct 3, 2010 at 12:11 PM UTC
Spfigionallity (sp?)
Aloof are the clouds so cold they can be daydreaming up at them they run right by me seems not long ago when I still touched the sky the zepherous monuments let me in by and by and a whole week it’s been since I felt their embrace stumbling and tumbling the caress of wind on my face so good it felt a release from average todays better than my vices and adventurous ways but now I just lay here waiting for a time when you lay here instead daydreaming you’ll see a silhouette. Mine
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Oct 2, 2010
Oct 2, 2010 at 10:32 PM UTC
In clouds