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Ten-thousand mics under the sea
and the stage was an island, stranded
on another planet's horizon.

By Saturn's rings
I saw a tiger.

Bittersweet, I miss that;
The longing, the madness.
I ask: is context all that ever is?
Yes, but there's more to life than it.

Living in Progress, the purpose subaqueous
like waves lapping on temporal sand.
Keep an adaptable mind at hand.

This is more than a dance, humans in motion
react differently. Like sheets of silk, smooth yet trippy.

Acid burn,
Liquid trance
Heaven is dark
and the dark is warm.
A philosopher is unable to question the value of philosophy
without engaging in it. Knowledge is a pleasure, and the object
of my love is bracketed by that question.

I am ashamed by my inability to explain this, this love is ineffable,
I can say it is true (even though that is a circular redemption).
Every reason seems bracketed by the unknown, seeming
to include the unknowable, yet I try to answer for this.

All I can say is that this love transcends the universe
and has left me behind, I feel poetry is the only way we could know
as to why one loves, and whyever
we have knowledge so.
**** me, **** me, **** me, **** me, **** me, **** me, **** me, **** me, **** me,
**** me, **** me, **** me, **** me, **** me, **** me, **** me, **** me, **** me,
**** me, **** me, **** me, **** me, **** me, **** me, **** me, **** me, **** me,
**** me, **** me, **** me, **** me, **** me, **** me, **** me, **** me, **** me,
**** me, **** me, **** me, **** me, see me, **** me, **** me, **** me, **** me,
**** me, **** me, **** me, **** me, **** me, **** me, **** me, **** me, **** me,
**** me, **** me, **** me, **** me, **** me, **** me, **** me, **** me, **** me,
**** me, **** me, **** me, **** me, **** me, **** me, **** me, **** me, **** me,
**** me, **** me, **** me, **** me, **** me, **** me, **** me, **** me, **** me.

Love me, love me, love me, love me, love me, love me, love me, love me,
Hate me, hate me, hate me, hate me, hate me, hate me, hate me, hate me,
Love me, love me, love me, love me, love me, love me, love me, love me,
Hate me, hate me, hate me, hate me, hate me, hate me, hate me, hate me,
Love me, love me, love me, love me, love me, love me, love me, love me,
Hate me, hate me, hate me, hate me, hate me, hate me, hate me, hate me,
Love me, love me, love me, love me, love me, love me, love me, love me,
Hate me, hate me, hate me, hate me, hate me, hate me, hate me, hate me.

Leave me, leave me, leave me, leave me, leave me, leave me, leave me,
Leave me, need me, leave me, need me, leave me, need me, leave me,
Leave me, leave me, need me, need me, need me, leave me, leave me,
Leave me, need me, need me, need me, need me, need me, leave me,
Leave me, leave me, need me, need me, need me, leave me, leave me,
Leave me, need me, leave me, need me, leave me, need me, leave me,
Leave me, leave me, leave me, leave me, leave me, leave me, leave me.

Believe me, believe me, believe me, believe me, believe me, believe me,
Believe me, it's buried, believe me, believe me, it's buried, believe me,
Believe me, believe me, it's buried, it's buried, believe me, believe me,
Believe me, believe me, it's buried, it's buried, believe me, believe me,
Believe me, it's buried, believe me, believe me, it's buried, believe me,
Believe me, believe me, believe me, believe me, believe me, believe me.

Deceive me, feed me, deceive me, feed me, deceive me, feed me, deceive
Me, believe me, heed me, believe me, heed me, believe me, heed me, feed
Me, feed me, deceive me, feed me, deceive me, feed me, deceive me, feed
Me, believe me, heed me, believe me, heed me, believe me, heed me, feed
Me, feed me, deceive me, feed me, deceive me, feed me, deceive me, feed.

Pleading, appeasing, displeasing, apologising, releasing, pleasing me,
Pleading, appeasing, displeasing, apologising, releasing, pleasing me,
Pleading, appeasing, displeasing, apologising, releasing, pleasing me,
Pleading, appeasing, displeasing, apologising, releasing, pleasing me.

Will you end it quickly, will you end it quickly, will you end it quickly,
will you end it quickly, will you tend to it quick, will you end it quickly,
will you end it quickly, will you end it quickly, will you end it quickly?

Will we ever learn to stop worrying and love the bomb, will we ever
learn to stop worrying and love our carbon?

When the human's over turn out the lights!
"The absurd" refers to the conflict between
the human tendency to seek inherent value and meaning in life
and the human inability to find any.

How does one embrace this absurd condition of humankind
yet continue searching for meaning in life?

We explore, seek, discover, and venture.
We Live in Progress.
A man of strange substance
that knows not why he does
this to himself. The chance
that he might be someone
who'd experience something,
But without the drugs that
give him a grand illusion
of power
over chance,
Over a bundle
of drives that rule
fate. "Whoever fights
monsters should see to it
that in the process he does not
become a monster. And if you gaze
long enough into an abyss, the abyss
will gaze back into you." Grand so.

Some hexen and a few cans? Grand.
Some 2C-T-2 and DCK? Grand.
Some more 4-MEC? Grand.
What'll we have today?
Will it make any difference?
Who is this person at the reigns?
This alchemical dabbling, these habits
of mine, there's something right about this
among all the despair and wrong decisions
that surround it. Of course, I've made mistakes
in the past, let slip this and that;
My composure recovered
but my self-esteem's
been beat down
by others, and that's
why I first turned to these
things. It is a pity drug use is
not so well-respected as a practice
when it extends beyond the jurisdiction
of medicine, there's more to psychoactivity
than poison, remedy or scapegoat.

This passion of mine spans from sacred to academic.
Please extend me the courtesy of recognizing intellect.
We are, all of us, thinking beings. I am merely trying to make my thoughts more apparent, to clarify this thing we term experience.
We are the interesting animal, creatures of language and game.
Where does all this fit in, those things we may choose to do?
That's all I ask. That's why I do this. I wonder where it is
I am headed, but the only thing I spend too much time
questioning are my instincts. I must trust in myself,
How else does one succeed?

These refractions of character
are a tiresome habit, but necessary.
Line Twelve to Seventeen - Friedrich Nietzsche
The world is full of beauty
when viewed through the ******'s eye,
You can have your opinions
and I can have mine.

Hypocrites have souls
(but sometimes they're hard to find).

I found a bag of nirvana lying in the sands,
I think I'd like a climb in some desert lands.
I'm on a plain
and it's about to go vertical.

Morpheus pumped out cleansing dub
(as the esoteric sacrament went sub).

As I rave away the days
incredible colors dye,
A spectrum above the sky.
As I rave away the daze
I meet vibrant eyes,
Perception's coming up,
Acid cyclone on the rise.
A coherence of given presentation to the subject
which accords with their representation of reality.

The coherence of given presentations to an object
which can be said to accurately represent its reality.

Signification of object/subject
which coheres/reconciles truth and belief.
These operations of mind constitute the will which enables choice.
My mind goes to weird and wonderful places when left unattended
and they make me reel it back in.
They don't want a person,
They want a tennis racket.

These days they hand you a certification
like it's the same thing as an education.
Human tennis and indoctrination blues.
I take 25mg of DPH to sleep. No effect.
I am feverish, restless.

In the morning I test positive.
I experience symptoms between a cold and flu.
Fatigue, headache, congestion, dry chesty cough,
Changes in taste, constriction of pupils, nerve pain
in the roots of my teeth, and cognitive fog. After three days I mend.
After ten days my isolation ends.

That soporific dose of diphenhydramine went unnoticed, blotted out
by the onset of coronavirus.
Antihistamines are of scant interest to me anyway,
More interesting was effect of that orthornavirae
upon consciousness.

I am glad for the doses of Cominarty I received
5 months ago.
Don't feed the trolls.
Especially after midnight.
Treat the bartender as if s/he were your drug dealer.
Be polite.
Left to these eon days.
Welcome to wonderland, I say.
An ethereal eternity in a moments gaze,
To ponder beyond the barriers of time and space.

For a split-second reality flickers;
Beautiful in it's deliverance,
Nocturnal firelight on shamanic sands,
Mescaline transcendent communion with the land.
Some daze inspiration takes me.

Suspended here in this celestial haze,
A clairvoyant glance into the eye of the maze.
The cleansing radiance of our empyreal ways;
Left in this aeon daze.
I felt the totality of nothing
and it provoked utter elation
as all that was born of sensation
was inversed to none, nothing, one.

It feels nothing beneath or above,
Neither beside of me, no way
left nor right nor wrong.

As aeons unfelt
allowed anesthesia
to grip me, held wight
by its dissociative thrall.

I have braved the depths
of eternity, delved into spaceless
infinity, submerged in its chaotic bliss.

I dared to immerse myself in it.
Low and behold, the M-hole.
There's nothing there (if ever you'll remember where).
What sky?
In half-light
this umbra moves;
'Tis not the sun we're waiting for
but the moon!

Ecliptic: Darkstar, Blacksun; Moonlight.
Amp up the equinox/Tryp through the solstice.
We'll make it through to this apocalypse.

I yearn for a disclosure of knowledge, that's all I meant by it/this.
Anachronistic Inspiration: Kallista - Saki Kaska & Rom Di Prisco
I have decided what substance I prefer the most,
What drug I would keep if for nothing else;
The answer so simple it rocked myself:
Music, both melodic and lyrical.

Expression and experience
together as one, impressing
upon us, this cosmic vibration.

Though *** and psychedelics
may tie for a close second

music will always be my drug.
Had knowledge or being qualified
they would have beaten all others
for they are more than any mere
substantial pleasure.
I exist, I'll cease:
I'd wonder, I feel
anger, forgive me.

I remember, I beg to
forget, I wander
off, I trespass.
A fleeting glance stole
my falling body from me.

I burn with that empyreal flame,
I do out a dose of tianeptine.
I live, I die;
I live again.
Spent the first half of my twenties depressed, just
like the first half of my teens. What a waste of life,

Unable to find love, to feel. I reckon there's potential
yet, I'd summon the will, tap the reservoir, let being
flow from my repertoire. What spurred this poem?
Spent today studying from my desk
while the sun was shining

and out the window
I could see a few kids
fooling about in fine

weather, slacklining
and chatting and enjoying
themselves, making memories. Wished I was out there
with them. Then realised they're not much younger than
I, and I thought them kids. Yesterday I was cycling home
and for a moment I thought: Soon I'll be old. Sooner than
I'd have thought it would seem. I'm 23.
Time is a construct
and age, a mindset.

College is quiet now
as dusk comes to a close
and the artificial lighting
fires up to clothe campus in
that kenopsic glow, those silent
shadows yawn as the night dawns
and darkness falls but the light above
my desk is a lone beacon. "I'm still here"

writing a thousand letters and
wishing for a thousands rests
Line Twenty-Seven from I'm Still Here by John Rzeznik.
The way I live, to be forgotten, but I'm still here
living all my low effort heroes.

Sometimes I get low but it's alright,
I have my heroes.

It's OK to let go. Release,

Replant your soul;
Live on
That archetypal, clichéd feeling
I can't seem to shake. Once again,
Write with some grace. Flux shows
just how much I'm missing of myself.

By the gods, what a dark place! I say it
and shudder, half-laughing, wholly afraid.
The other half is lying, it always did prefer the shade.
In half-light I spied a shadowed face. It whispers to me, I

hear its divine abuse
as it shouts a cruelty.
I have been remembering
all day, memories
that I locked away.
I would rather they
remain contained but
my ravaged mind seeks
a remedy.
Knossos, birthplace of the city.
Argos. Athens. Damascus. Thebes, Luxor.

"It is just an illusion we have here on Earth
that one moment follows another one, like
beads on a string, and
that once a moment is gone it is gone forever."

So many societies,
So much time.
Lines Two-Five from Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut
Strange world, my mad head cooled
after a breath of jungle spice;
That acrid smoke, I
feel better
for having inhaled.
Less than 20mg of DMT
reminded me it's OK to relax;
I forgot that it's good for me,
That it can help with my mental health
and thus my productivity. I went without
for too long, tortured myself out of curiosity.
Today I renewed my love for psychedelics,
Exchanging respects with them.
It remembers who I am
after a dip in
the Lethe.
Sometimes it seems
like me and her, we
keep missing each other, one
is high while the other is low,
One of us stays, the other goes
and what goes up
must come down.

It is hard to be here,
Being what I am. What am I?
How are you? Let us talk for
awhile. We are friends, don't
give up on lonely chance for
relationship would not be forced, nor should
intimacy be founded upon a thing as fragile
as mental health if we are to have hope. It's
'cause when I talk to you it feels alright to
be alive. I cannot apologize, "I was gonna
die young, now I gotta wait for you, ***."
Line Eighteen and Nineteen from Die Young by Sylvan Esso

























I find myself "strongly desiring intimacy"
yet often feel emptiness
even after experiencing
connection with others.

The group are among
a few of the only humans I have ever felt
to have known authentically, a sense
of belonging, fleeting, sempiternal.

So ****** up and genuine.

I'd have been lost without them.
Now I find myself leaving, I regret 
not being around more often.

I find myself splitting, because it's easier
to revalue others than feel a sense of loss.
Went to a rave
under The Quincy,
With an urban campfire
and an ambitious young selecta'
playing danceable tunes from her decks,
A can in my hand, warcoat on my back, among
Down by the riverside
we were all under
the one bridge
Grand portents
for this coming year.

Bring it
Dopamine Hit For The Data-Addict

Conscious Experience

Being Is A Category

The Existential Is Ours To Warp As We See Fit

This Iris Brimming With Choice Or Judgement

Dialectics Of Thought

Rapturous Olympus

Exile Vilify


Romantic ******'s American Dream

Devise Your Own Philosophy

Wake Up "Mr. Freeman"

Recurring (Socratic) Anachronism

History Is Written, Rewrite Politics


Listen To The Moon

How Many Dimensions

Be The Compassionate Arbiter

Humanity Is A Joint Effort,
Mastery Is A Sole Exploit

Some Sick Fiend

Welcome To Wonderland

Philosophy At A Rave

Thus "The Symbionts Were Born"

Found In A Maze Of Spring Empathy

Pharmahuasca Maelstrom Drank The Earth

Ion Chaser Ate A Hurricane
Janie saw her life like a great tree in leaf with the things suffered, things enjoyed, things done and undone. Dawn and doom was in the branches.*

Ah know exactly what Ah got to tell yuh, but it’s hard to know where to start at [...] Ah was wid dem white chillun so much till Ah didn’t know Ah wuzn’t white till Ah was round six years old.
we looked at de picture and everybody got pointed out there wasn’t nobody left except a real dark little girl with long hair standing by Eleanor. Dat’s where Ah wuz s’posed to be, but Ah couldn’t recognize dat dark chile as me. So Ah ast, ‘where is me? Ah don’t see me.’
“Everybody laughed
‘Dat’s you, Alphabet, don’t you know yo’ ownself?’

“Dey all useter call me Alphabet ’cause so many people had done named me different names.
Ah looked at de picture a long time and seen it was mah dress and mah hair so Ah said: “ ‘Aw, aw! Ah’m colored!’
“Den dey all laughed real hard.

But before Ah seen de picture Ah thought Ah wuz just like de rest.
Excerpt from Chapter Two of Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston.
I should be working
but people just do nothing
and let those perfect moments slip

away. I can't reconcile how far I seem
to stand apart from people, people I like.
I fear I've always been so removed.
From a young age I had such difficulty
losing myself. How much I value being
lost, I see it in my earlier writings,
The praise I give to the ventures
which took me to dark places,
All-the-better to find oneself.
"What does not **** me,
Makes me stronger."
Thus spoke Apotheos
who I once praised
in the maze that is
The Apotheon, a place
at the heart of apotheosis.

This was before I gave up
on life. Sometime
long ago.

is a human
Line Twelve and Thirteen from Twilight of the Idols [1888] by Friedrich Nietzsche
"What dignifies the Yogic practices is that the belief system itself is not truly religious. There is no Buddhist god per se. It is the self, the individual mind, that contains immortality and ultimate truth. At least I know where the self is. It’s in our own minds. It’s a form of human energy. Our atoms are six billion years old. We’ve got six billion years of memory in our minds. Memory is energy! It doesn’t disappear – it’s still in there. There’s a physiological pathway to our earlier consciousnesses. There has to be. And I’m telling you, it’s in the ******* limbic system…. I’m a man in search of his true self. How archetypically American can you get? Everybody’s looking for their true selves. We’re all trying to fulfill ourselves, understand ourselves, get in touch with ourselves, face the reality of ourselves, explore ourselves, expand ourselves. Ever since we dispensed with God, we’ve got nothing but ourselves to explain this meaningless horror of life….Well, I think that that true self, that original self, that first self is a real, mesurate, quantifiable thing, tangible and incarnate. And I’m going to find the ******."
-Dr. Eddie Jessup
Film: Altered States
Scriptwriter: Sidney Aaron [Paddy Chayefsky]
Character: Dr. Eddie Jessup
Actor: William Hurt

PostScript: I watched Altered States and thought it was silly, though I suppose it had some small measure of merit given this quote.
Post-PostScript: I read Nietzsche and reasoned there is no coherent self, only a bundle of drives which cannot be meaningful quantified across persons.
MetaPost-PostScript: god I wish I would delete this whole ******* thing.
These social somersaults make me sick,

I find I am inconsistent in my thinking,
Depending on my present company.

My internal dialogue is so messy:
Everyone's talking, nobody's listening.

Sometimes I feel as if each of us were stranded
on our own island, and our only way to communicate is by

shouting across the straits
at one and other
but my head is buried
in the sand.
"I'm trying to be myself,
Understand everyone,
It's a mission and a half.

Looking at everyone,
Trying to learn something
but I am getting more confused;
It's hard being cool.

Our generation,
Have we a soul?

Techno emergency,
Virtual reality,
We're running out of new ideas?

Who is the Queen?"
Film: Human Traffic (1999)
Writer(/Director): Justin Kerrigan
Drink tea in space, listen to the moon baked.
Miracle rising, anandamide climaxing.
Interstellar weather, especially in November.
Night sky indigo, beautiful vertigo.
Dendrobium Nobile is from the orchid family,
A plant containing 17 phenanthrenes
exemplī grātiā: 3,4,8-trimethoxyphenanthrene-2,5-diol.

A pharmacological stew, and a stimulant
of some kind.
I think sleep will be possible

after another while.
Spent the night dancing
to grime, garage and electronica.
Definitely Entactus, I felt that. Unsure what I learned
and as to the question of its implications on health.
There will be moderation, it is the key to growth.
Dear friends and fiends,
Those who'd weave poems
and lose themselves in dreams,
Let me tell you of the places I've been.

The hour of my writing
is late, as always, and tonight
I find myself trawling through
the deep dark web.
Seeking out the dark
stuff, I cast out the net
to catch a glimpse of fate
and to contemplate the death
of patterns that lurk inside my
head, gleaming all but nothing.

I will have the night always
and I'm wondering what
worth really is. Blasted
signifiers and infernal
meanings! Why can't
it all just go away?

So I spend some time in the darkness
until the end rears its eventual head
and I am left here, blind, grappling
in the dark. All we are, all our
shadows are; beautiful, ugly;
Powerful, ridiculous;
Good/bad, right/wrong,
Off/on; it's all the same really,
Tell me which side of the coin
becometh unseen?

No one's listening!
Insignificance is a powerful asset
given today's crazy, contrary world,
It serves as well as any sartorial shield;
Or, rather, should I say it is insignificable?
I am a being thinking no one's bothering
to listen to me yet I do much listening
and even reflecting. I'm not complaining,
Reliving seems a better choice of word.
I do like listening: I listen to the
quiet before morning and after night;
To the hustle and bustle when bathed
in that artificial light;
To other humans who
speak Other languages
in all their idiosyncrasies,
The content of which I'd not
grasp but the form of it I might
understand, from sweet Italian
to feisty Spanish, haunting Irish
to French's romance, the only tongue
I cannot see such quality in is English
because instead I see in it everything,
Some of which I'd rather forget, under-
lying meaning, miscommunication, dis-
information and each mistake and error,
Destroyed etymologies, broken referents
and the tyranny of endless signification;

Everything and Nothing,
∃xistence and ∀niverse.

Although I like to listen
I cannot help what it is
I hear. I do not control
perception though I try
very hard to fool the seer
into ignorance, to ignore
the pessimism I'd otherwise
embrace, to swallow those itty
bitter blue pills I'd otherwise taste.

God love every parent and sibling,
Friend, enemy and other acquaintance
for each of whom I have many mixed
multifaceted feelings but who I'd listen to
nonetheless for the sake of their heads, mental
wellbeing can be such a chore. I really don't know
anymore, I've no real purpose, I'm just a data-*****.

Not a chance nor even a hope of finding
work or love with hobbies like these, and
this for lounging-list of habits that I keep;
No meaning, or at least nothing significant.
Went away and now I've returned,
What do I have to show for it? Well,
I learned to love the weather, now
the rain makes me feel so much better.
Embodiment says more about consciousness
than symbolism or analysis;
"Your emotions become your reality".

What anticharms and antistrange ways lie beyond us?

Our eyes take care in their saccades,
We skim the surface, brushing over one's skin
as if to remark that I am here, searching for something.

Being and dissociation.
Line Three by Iroh from Avatar: The Legend of Korra, S3E2
My heart is elsewhere, imprescient
as this moment slips by;
I no longer feel the thing.
I hear lonely memories of a new past.
Infinity, Crystalised;
I cannot say why you reached to me
in this ancient future.
My head is worn with anachronism
but I sleep to empty it
and search my dreams
for that profound sense of wonder
at our simple universe.
In the evening
we titrated our doses
cautiously insufflating DMXE
until its threshold appeared; old hope,
That one could return
to the m-verse.

We listened to thumping drumcode
and watched a Soviet adaptation
of The Lord of the Rings.
Nonsensical  contexts were generated by
the juxtaposition of techno with our Russian Frodo
and Gandalf the Red.

I consumed no more than 7mg
and enjoyed little over two hours
of mild dissociation, pleasant warmth
and good company before the effects began to gently fade.
It is worthy of further assessment, but carefully
given its current age.
Perhaps this new generation
of arylcyclohexylamines
show some promise.
Is it being high
or getting higher

to which we should aspire?
You know which feels better.
G-town hasn't changed.
Same city, different crowd.
Year-in, year-out.

All the same, "His Praise Remains
unto Ages of Ages",
Across this weathered domain.

Old highs, new lows.
Homesick for infinity
and lost in the throes.

Another pub, club, afters, rave.
I forget sometimes
the world is not such a malevolent place.

Same conversation, different heads.
Wish I felt more connected.

Feel so far away.
Been meaning to take an empathogen,

With someone, to remind me
the world is not such a malevolent place.
Inhale the clouds,
Exhale your soul.
A psychoactive substance that induces alterations in perception, mood, consciousness, cognition, or behavior for the purposes of subduing personal drives in a profane context.
The functional opposite of an entheogen.

From the root, apotheo- (apotheosis, to deify) and the suffix -gen (genesis, to come into being).

Apotheogenesis can be understood as
the act of concealing or obscuring the self
through the singular focus of one's will onto a pattern or substance,
Raising it to a god-like position within their ideology.
The individual is thus subsumed by it, distracting from
dissonant parts of the self which are incongruent
with the whole. Such parts become hidden
though their drives remain in conflict.
The itch to alter oneself, the drive to consume substance,
That existential pruritus which all drug users know.
This calendar charters momentum
adherent to the four seasons
of Earth and its humans:

Born so serotonergic:
The Vernal Equinox;
Feel the spring empathy
and the fresh aer movement.

Glutamatergic apex:
The Estival Solstice;
Azure haze of summer vibrancy,
Touch the bright side of it.

Fade to dopaminergic:
The Autumnal Equinox;
Lost in the arms of fall liberty,
Feeling the reach.

GABAminergic in depth:
The Hibernal Solstice;
Rainy daze in winter ecstasy,
There's water on the moon.

This Entheogenic Calendar,
That Apotheosized Existence;
And The Other.
Entheogenesis is Empyreal, Apotheotelos is Ecliptic:
In that sentient spectrum determination is given,
Reflections are drawn from this conscious continuum.
To focus oneself on an aspect can be of use;
The singularity, the particularity. However,
To concentrate so singularly is also to be obtuse.

We shall not forget the how and the why,
Of which we must philosophize;
Else we lose the power of the mind
Unravel consciousness, modify perception,
We dare warp the existential to assure our protection.

We shall endeavour to remember such an Application Of The Psyche.
Thesis: Tangible/Applicable
Antithesis: Intangible/Inapplicable
Synthesis: Meta-tangible/Replicable

Strive to apply yourself.
For one millisecond
I could have written anything.
All the synapses in my brain had aligned
and only inspiration was mine.
I could have rhymed tequila with a good time.
Now sail away, thoughts of mine,
Be lost forever to the depths of my actualized mind.
Lets go down to the docks
and throw some stones off the pier,
As the sun goes down we can cheer;
We made it this far, down by the Dockyard
(B Seite) - Paul Kalkbrenner knows
what's going on: Right here
is what's going on; Right now
it's going on, so go on, listen to music,
Take in the lovely tunes, bring some of
them good vibes home; "****** my mind
and you can have my body, find my soul
and I’m yours forever.
Lines Ten, Eleven, Twelve and Thirteen from some random post probably still circulating on tumblr.
I contemplate destruction;
I'd erase my past
to contumaciously
destroy what I am.
No longer will I be history,
Nor its corpulent keeper;
I will delete everything
and finally be reborn,
I'll vanish without a trace
and find a new home.
I long for your saccades
and their intimacy.
I want to feel fulfilment
in the closeness of your gaze.
The world's less fair than they let on
because everybody can't have this much fun.
Learn how to make the subtlest of calls, then, my friend
you can have it all.

Ever wonder why villains are such an opulent lot?
It's because **** always floats to the top.
If you're quiet about it,
Loose ethics make for good times,
But stalwart morals are what'll keep you sublime.
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