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Phil B Jul 2017
Talk - it's cheap and full of sheep.
Air moving, mouthing, making
words to distract and bamboozle,
meaning is used to confuse you.

Colour - superfluous and intangent.
It divides just as much / as it unifies,
the masses and controls our thoughts,
trick of the light, a tailored emotion.

Taste - individuality in isolation.
Eating. Engulfing, endlessly entropic.
Consumers call connoisseurs canon,
Sordid selfish sense, seldom shared.
I read an interesting thought piece written by an author, and it really did get me thinking about how, special moments, experiences and sensations are commercialised by Hollywood and the marketing industry, and how we respond to it over time as we are increasingly exposed to it.
Josh Jul 2017
Hook up culture
Cheap cider
He has a car
That's the decider
A year or less
Down the line
You're nine months along
He's doing time
But you tell yourself
We're doing fine
Now you're wishing
You'd finished school
Instead of smoking
And acting 'cool'
Read this, think on it well
You have, one life, one story
Make it one, you want to tell
Richard Jul 2017
There used to be letters,
now I deal with mails,
but does it without real words matters?
quick
PS: Last 2 days were extremely painful and it means that I will be writing quite a lot or I won't at all.
Tina RSH Jul 2017
I could rest my head 
On my deathbed 
And say oh darling
I die more alive than ever
Resume! 
I please to spend innumerable days
Inside this coffin, 
As the gleaming sun shines 
From my chest 
And burns every bone 
Tightly sticking 
To this temporary structure 
A million times! A million times! 
I went straight to the bottom 
Travelled the depths of this sea 
And saw no more than solid darkness
Deafening,blind, heart-wrenching; hazardous
A sea of dead glee.
But a chest of untouched hope
The only treasure I stole 
Emptied in my veins
Seething with my blood
As I lay in my deathbed
Tina RSH ©
12:15 PM
Ryan Holden Jun 2017
We make history as we go
But we also create destruction,
We build sculptures clouds high,
Then find it so easy to knock down.

We rummage and do everything
Possible to find what we can't have,
Shouldn't have, don't need, just greed.

We fight because it's become normality
to brag about what you acquire,
Rather than to share what you have
So you've become a viper.

We walk past one another
As our palms cross paths,
And only dust falls slowly
Whilst our hands collide.

We don't want you to become
Another person to fall into the trap,
That modern society seems to be
Building and creating so cleverly.

Yet stupidly becoming blind
To it's own downpour,
So I wait for the day
As I pray,
We can all be together again.
White noise on the monitor
brittle and bitter loathing
excited by nothing but
the something under bed.

#speakless
#feelmore?
#twittering
all such useless noise.

Action is essential -
"pessimism of the intellect
optimism of the will"
wrote Gramsci, rotting in his cell.

Machine gun fire from my fingertips;
I feel the words flow like some
maelstrom of masculine violence
on some long lost mental battlefield
some monolith of shame,
Monkeys.

You don't speak, you don't listen
you're encased in your own cage.
So am I. Alive half-dead,
brittle to the core with the
threat of indifference.
Dead with the action of knowing that one is at peace
with it, the fear of the self, divided
  -in two
blue? Oh yes, blue blue blue, blue blue blue.

Red pill, blue pill, truth.
Yawn, boring internet culture.
Yawn the squalid indifference.
Yawn the 21st century
Yawn the 22nd century etc etc
Yawn the suffocating critic,
Yawn your inaction,
Yawn my pretension,
Yawn my failed attempts at caring -
Not natural.

"Yes very clever, post it on the wall and
gain applause from the decaying crowd" she says,
"as they self implode out the echoes of
emptiness, measured monolith"

I scrawl -
"no more of this".
Burning brain can crush and does frequently so don't tempt
it to go Godzilla, I can do it with ease.
Crush cities in my mind. Bombastic ******* when push
and shove meet in urban jungles.

Painful Pan Pen Ease, woodland industrial spirit crush
Boom.

The title is a clue,
Go away.
Ashley Black Jun 2017
I live in a world of pre decided.
I have already been studied
my future is guided
I enter a world of people who have
graphed my thoughts.
A world where the new generation
is just a producers figmentation
A baneful balance of
who they were
and who we are to be.
How do I compete with a list of facts
that determine my personality?
The dystopian novelty is not lost on me.
But I will not concede
I do not have to be what they need
I am free to build a symphony of options
and no matter what your webpage says
"I do not live in a world of pre decided"

-Raen
A couple words about the attitude towards the new generations (Millennials and Gen Z)
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