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Sophia Nov 2019
1999 was the year,
My wonderful show was out.
You can watch me torture children,
Hear them cry and shout.
Come and help me be apart of this,
We'll all have fun.
Now excuse me while I get this job done...
renée Jun 2019
I’m capable of disaster—
Godspeed to the mother of disaster
Carpe Diem, Beverly Hills is ready for you, faster,
our minds are rupturing from these rapturous months
it’s all a little much for us
Surreality, angular surreality
We’re two-faced, defacing reality’s ideals
Because it’s up to us, that’s the veridical deal
‘99 can’t party, no—
Not like the kids
who can no longer feel.
Erian May 2019
You make me wish I could travel back in time..
MARK RIORDAN Jul 2017
MARTIN LANDAU HAS PASSED AWAY
THIS TAPE WILL SELF DESTRUCT
HE WAS THE ORIGINAL ETHAN HAWK
WHEN DISGUISES WERE A MUST


WHEN SPACE TRAVEL WAS IN THE FUTURE
WE HAD SPACE 1999
MARTIN LANDAU WAS THE LEAD
A GREAT ACTOR OF HIS TIME



LIVE LONG AND PROSPER SPOK USE TO SAY
LANDAU TURNED THIS ROLE DOWN
ONLY IF HE KNEW WHAT STAR TREK WOULD BE
A CULT FOLLOWING AND SO PROFOUND.
A GREAT ACTOR HAS PASSED AWAY THE ORIGINAL MISSION IMPOSSIBLE. ALSO SPACE 1999. WOW IN 1976 WHILE WATCHING SPACE 1999 I THOUGHT WILL THIS DATE EVER COME WOW AND NOW I SAY SUCH A LONG TIME AGO. TIME JUST MARCHES ON.
Terry Collett Feb 2017
Bill lit up a cigarette,
began to dress.

The young punk on the bed
yakked about left wing crap.

Bill turned off his hearing,
the *** had been good,
the talk not.

He buttoned up his collar,
tied his tie.

Exhaled the smoke,
put on his shoes.

Walked to the small kitchen,
flipped on the radio,
put on the kettle.

The young punk
got off the bed, dressed,
gazed at the older man
in the kitchen,
classic **** from the radio.

Bill offered
coffee and toast.

The young punk said: ok,
sat in a chair,
pushed fingers
through black hair,
shoulder length.

Bill took in the Debussy,
turned on the toaster,
made coffee.

The kid was talking away,
lit up,
watched Bill's back,
the shooter in an holster
over the shoulder.

Bill laid down
the coffee and toast,
sat opposite the punk,
gentle spoke.

The punk had liked the ***,
ate the toast,
sipped the coffee,
feared the shooter.

The Debussy ended,
Bach ***** music,
punk yawned.

Are you a cop?
the punk asked.

No, Bill said,
in business.

Business?
the punk wondered
what sort,
exhaled smoke.

Worldwide stuff,
Bill said,
musing on
the arranged suicide
**** in Iraq,
dead is dead.
AN AGENT AND THE PUNK 1999.
Gaye Apr 2016
In the end, I never really climbed-
Them, they gave me panic attacks,
Razors loped my flesh and I ran in
Circles over a reverse nightmare,
Spiral staircase, awful storeys,
They all scooted to 1999.

I want to climb down my 1999, burn
And not be smolder in an ashtray.
I hope to fall asleep, away from
The city, away from my guava trees.
I have my history of walking,
Suddenly lost without postage stamps.

Will you take me to Ferris wheel?
Push me down the spiral staircase,
And sleep next to my 1999? Will you?
Will you take me to Ferris wheel?
Push me down the spiral staircase,
And sleep next to my 1999? Will you?

“Some other day”
Dylan Lane Jul 2015
it was the kind of year that lasted longer than the ones around it, at least for some people and i guess that i cant really say what kind of year it was because how am i supposed to remember that far into my childhood? i was little. littler than i can remember being and it's been sixteen years since then and i keep trying to calculate the weight i have gained since 1999. and what i've lost, who i've found, since 1999 we were a tangle of potential. since 1999 i lost weight, i gained weight, i gained heavy strain on my shoulders and i didnt carry water buckets at camp because i thought i'd thrown out my shoulder, since 1999 i have been existing but i dont think that all of the time i've been exposed to the elements counts as being as alive as i am when i'm the only sober one at the park, when the boy next to me is whacked out on codeine cough syrup and asks me to punch him as hard as i can i will try to remember 1999, when i couldnt remember existing.
"The present is gone. Fantasy is a part of reality
and we take the breaks off. We're thinking clearly
yet not thinking at all, and this feels right.
We stop trying to control things,
The warm rush of chemicals through us. Is this brain damage?
We forget all the hurt and pain in life.
We wanna go somewhere else. We're not threatened by people anymore. All our insecurities have evaporated.
We're in the clouds now. Wide open,
We're spacemen, orbiting the earth.
Yeah, the world looks beautiful from here man.
We're nympholeptics, desiring for the unattainable.
We risk sanity for moments of temporary enlightenment.
So many ideas, so little memory. The last thought killed by anticipation of the next.
We embrace an overwhelming feeling of love.
We flow, in unison. We're together.
I wish this was real.
We want a universal level of togetherness, where we're comfortable with everyone.
We're in rhythm. Part of the movement, a movement to escape.
We wave goodbye.
Ultimately, we just want to be happy.
Yeah, yeah!
Hang on,
What the **** was I just talking about?"
*-Jip
Film: Human Traffic (1999)
Writer(/Director): Justin Kerrigan
Character: Jip
Actor: John Simm
"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,
Alienation,
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

— The End —