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Everyone’s looking for an escape,
a virtual reality with alternative facts,
virtual because it’s almost reality,
except it’s reality without all the commitment,

and within,
a virtual reality we can augment,
what it used to be like back in base reality,
and we can ponder on where the time went,

& when  I say time,
I’m referring to the time in reality spent,
because after all reality is the only thing real,
and the experiences within them are the only thing you can’t invent,

see the truth is the only thing that exists in actually existence,

yeah sometimes truth is stranger than fiction,
ask Buckaroo Bonzai,
ask Stephen Hawkings ask Steve Jobs and,
ask yourself why you’re alive,

why you put up with the pain,
why you put yourself through,
why you still hesitate to act on instinct,
when you know there’s nothing to it but to do it,

everyone too scared to speak up,
but everyone wants to be a hero,
there’s not much purity to speak of,
and evil seems to wear a halo,

hey bro,
or sis,
or whatever label,
you label yourself with,

there’s not much untainted land left,
there’s not much clean water,
the days are getting shorter,
and the nights are getting longer,

the hearts are getting colder,
but the earth is getting hotter,
plus these days reality is such a pain,
it often doesn’t seem worth the bother,

maybe the rebellion can’t begin,
because maybe it’s already done,
but then again maybe it’s only getting started,
and maybe the games have only just begun,

and if this is the case,
then you know it’s already on,
but just one question before we begin,
are you Ready Player One?

∆ Aaron LaLux ∆
Adya Jha Aug 29
Your love made me believe for real that our world is not a simulation
Because how could your touch be as binary as zeros and ones
When I feel the whole number line inside of me
How could you program a machine to be as random as my heartbeat when I see you?
And what about the butterflies -
What about the goddamn butterflies?
We met in the movies
She was the damsel in distress and I was superman
A character I chose to be all because I was foolishly in love at first sight
Beauty was the word that  embraced her face and made it beam like the sunset scenery of Miami beach.
I must confess
Her smile woke up the angels in my heart that frequently sang those beautiful serenades to attract her thoughts in my charming zone
I vowed to stand by her even in the heaviest storms and to warm her in the coldest seasons.
My chest often felt the heaviness of her head whenever she fell asleep
But the best part of the story is,
I chose to love her forever
Watching black and white flicks
From nineteen thirty four
With overacting stars and
Rinky-tinky scores;
Heroines with painted lips
To make them twice their size
And everyone with black liner
Smeared around their eyes.

Those were the big old movies
After school in the afternoon.
There were even snappy teasers
That told us ‘coming soon”
But television was free to us
And movie shows expensive
So, my backlog memories became
Inclusive and extensive.

I still can name most of the stars
And even say the name of the flick
And name some supporting actors
And I can do it super quick.
Because that was the entertainment
In a family with no movie budget.
If a movie came on I hadn't seen,
You can be sure I would watch it.

Later TV went to color shows
And it truly made my life great.
I’d see a favorite was coming on
Like Wizard of Oz, I couldn’t wait
To see it in color! Well, at least
Once Judy and the house landed.
It was enchantment for sure
No matter how heavy handed.

But for a decade or more, I watched
And was perfectly content to see
And not have a clue about their hair
Or color that their eyes  might be.
For happy in a black and white world
Pleased the young, unspoiled me.
After all, those fabulous stars
Were there for greedy young me!
Josh Jul 26
What happened to the love stories
the strings and the piano play
the fish hook in my chest
pulls no more than a tear
I miss something I never had
thank the big screen
for the life in your head that can't exist
what I've seen
is never to be had, always missed.

My sickness is my gravity
too heavy to go up to bed
immobile, face dead
and still the strings
and the piano
play
Belle Spiese Jul 22
With you there were no ends,
Only rolling memories,
Movie endings missed,
And series left unfinished,
Fostered by a fear of letting go,
And a love of holding on.
Holding your bare body in the heart of all seasons,
Switching positions, postal codes, and presumptions,
But never ending,
You were forever in a moment.
A love that refused to die,
Even forgotten memories served a purpose,
Setting scene for events that would soon unfold.
I love you so.
Jenny Jul 12
windows up
walls down
in the backseat of her toyota
staring at the green fluorescent car clock
9:37
he looks over his shoulder in the passenger seat,
the boy who could breathe without inhaling
a mere party trick.
i had always wondered what it felt like to be a teen
stupid as is seems
i was sheltered once,
hidden from night rides
obscured from midnight hikes
asleep instead of the early morning mcdonald trips
my friends were more persistent on making me to eat with them
than making me exhale dancing fumes with them.
i only know the double chin grins on our snapchat stories
the rude jokes, the black ripped jeans, and snapbacks
the lime green socks that matched the stair railings
and pink sliders never looked better.
the “6:30” movies (5:30, shhh, my mom can’t know)
and the crinkling of empty water bottles in the backseat
i felt alive tonight,
even through the tough,
sushi stores and reclining movie theaters never felt more like home.
and boba stores that stay open late with neon open signs
welcome us
9:37
the “oH mY gOsH iTs a DoG” screams
the photoshoots with random men wearing fake Coach hats
the posing by wooden desks
the lights that lounge effortlessly above
encaptures our spirits and brighten them
i don’t drink, but they smoke
but tonight, beer can’t buzz us more than boba
and childish giggles escape from my wide smile.
so this is what the lullabies were about
this is what katy perry sang about
this is what i had been waiting for
to experience moments of pure awe and affection for those around me
to see them smile in slow motion when they understand a joke
or react to something
our collective experiences are understood
no words need to be ushered to empathize
as we dress like the night,
we transform into it
the stars flicker for us
the moon gives us her blessing
and the sleeping sun gives us our space
9:37
was meant for us
the clock stops
and time stretches its arms to infinity and beyond
i could live in the frozen frame of this evening
bomber jackets, jean jackets, and tattooed planets
the inside jokes, the enjoyed hoax, our future hopes
they live inside the car clock that reads, in green, 9:37
a wonderful night
J Fletcher Jun 25
Armor and mud
Sword shield and blood
Drum beats and fire,
March on the Shire.
Fiddle and Fife,
Spittle and knife.
The piglet squeals,
Fat crackles and peels.
If you want more, let me know.
Aaron LaLux Jun 8
Cold as Hell,
as paradoxical as that seems,
I know I might seem humble it’s true,
even though on the down low I’ve got high self esteem,

watching Indiana Jones on the big screen,
got little time for nonsense,
even though we seem to make a big scene,

it seems,
that nothing is as it seems,
feeling like Indian Jones,
is it a pot of gold or a hill of beans,

more Jack than Jill,
more Mulder than Gillian,
and things are getting word like the X-Files,
some of the Lizard People are Chameleons,

or better yet Camillions,
money is their sun they bask in it,
on a rock in an ocean call it a continent,
not content at all with the poetic tragicness,

feeling repelled as 2 negatives,
yet as attracted as a magnet is,
anyways what’s my point,
I don’t know I suppose it depends on what your perspective is,

I just call it like I see it,
no filter unedited,
no hashtags just a hash bag,
actually I don’t even smoke that sh!t,

not even a little bit,
that’s not my favorite intoxicant,
anyways I should probably get off my soapbox,
because I seems I am on a rant,

so that’s it I’m done,
heading back to my house in the clouds,
where I can write in silence,
and let me words be as loud as Hell,

cold as Hell,
as paradoxical as that seems,
I know I might seem humble it’s true,
even though on the down low I’ve got high self esteem,

watching Indian Jones on the big screen,
got little time for nonsense,
even though we seem to make a big scene,

it seems,
that nothing is as it seems,
feeling like Indian Jones,
is it a pot of gold or a hill of beans…

∆ LaLux ∆
Ryley Jun 6
My favorite part of every movie was the ending kiss. It was the loudest form of love I've ever seen, fireworks exploding in the air or deep within their veins. I've fallen in love before, but it wasn't like that. It wasn't a tidal wave of lust and need. It was at its best a whisper. A tickle in my stomach and heart. Even as I become more infatuated with them, it is still but a hunch. Whoever said that your quiet love is useless, only gained their experiences through a screen.
Please leave critiques! =)
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