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Simon 6d
Nonsense isn’t clear when self-induce becomes derogatory. Switching off claims to promote a zero-questioning start. Only for calamities to raise the bars of victory without circumstance. Pleading you to forget what you saw and repeat after me. Nonsense without structure, is relaxing too much. Does relaxing come after nonsense when zero questioning permits the struggle of structure? I digress for the infinite that is suggesting you relax when it comes to ******* interiors giving no rise to pressure that exceeds balance. Balance in the face of consequence. Consequence in the doubt of honor. Honor in the… WAIT! It’s nonsense, right? ALL OF IT!! EVERYTHING!!! Plain examples of zero switches without direction. Promoting the structure of pleading facts rubbing with calamities. Ruining what shouldn’t have been. Illusions! All of it. Claiming something, which isn’t a benefactor to logic raising circumstances toward rising the bars of victory. Doesn’t make any sense, does it? Any of this ringing a bell people?! Good. Just relax and create your own structure. Even how awfully permitting to other appeals it might seem. Structure is without consequence. Relaxing about regular customs to oneself, permits the desire to act with a calm disposition. Everything being a confused debate of nonsense. Only adding nonsense over something that’s already a relaxing structure. Is structure without relaxation? Enough details… I’m out! Structure your own appeals?!
Pace yourself without claims to malice. Sharing views is good enough without all the NONSENSE! Clear your victories...PLEASE!
Di Verce Sep 20
Fear of lack limits us more than not accepting limits does.

Our FOMO creates walls.

More brain cells must be grown, english needs an upgrade from inside its limits!

Oexperiment! Where?? connect zee dots hombre
Fore!
The sun sempiternal shepherds its flock life-longly. Repetition be its brother, night be its foe. As regurgitation fumes, funneling heinous broth of decay and hostility, the tedium drips ashore, clenching its claws, raising the congregation of lunatics hellwards and in a moment of inseparable divisionism, bursts out loud, hardening the ground with desecration. Outbegotten and throughbrought, the once ****** ******* feral sons to the demented deity all above and none below, in turning, swirling and the ever-prying agony, facilitate themselves a house atop a hill. After the cacophony concludes, The Fool finds himself standing, thrice woven, wolfmeadow thrown, fistlike tenacity hit, once beholden to each beast of coppered glow. Up he reaches, but finding nought and disillusioned with disinterest he breaks down in acid tears and horrid shrieks for mercy. The inward calibre reciprocates and bursts out a tubular noise of contradiction. In all still-standing, the Queen, she of the all-overseeing, turns to The Fool and parlours him a wisdom: "I am unto you as a universe is unto itself. I am within you as this earth is within me. I am you and you I shall stay. And when you at once turn dust-wards, I shall, bereft but forthlooking, beget you again." Aghast with sudden agonising fragility and from the cosmic incantation a ghost arisen, The Fool in all his momentarily found glory and happiness conjectures himself a vessel to venture upon. What he once missed he now resides in. He found it and now he rejoices. To Youth, at long once and at once forever.
Inspired by GY!BE's "Undoing a Luciferian Towers" and a girl I know, who is obsessed with Boris Vian and all things avant-garde.
Pyrrha Sep 5
Sometimes as writers I feel we are just spilling nonsense into the world hoping that someone will make sense of it
TD Aug 31
“Any news is good news.”
Lies—all lies!

“No news is good news.”
True—all true?
leo arden Aug 30
what is love

but nonsense,

without the

consequence.
Hello Prolly Aug 30
Hope the sound of crickets
resting near your head
won’t wake up the bed
or want it?

just to tell you
now looking for a name
to call the day
that went the distance of three

I felt I did
I felt I slept
and shined through
and walked right at

I lost my breath
subtle hurts underneath
around my head
and heartily heartened

found a friend in friends
so talking their strange lingos
made me see the closeness
in the foreign truth

that carries
the
travelers
through

on-times so unusual
coincidental timing
and all the gones
how me, my zones

being alone
so moving, so home
near others
sleepwalking lovers

nervous panics
wordy freaks
one sided
broken line

still don't know today
the name
of ******* scattered
day

thus this scattered fragments,
my scatterline,
I just want to whisper
to your resting mind

while still smelling you
on structures of my skin,
sound tenderly
the creaks of crickets!
talking to you, talking to me
Bec Aug 23
I’m a creepy girl
**** the world
I give you a strange feeling
You can’t describe
Is it yours or mine
It’s getting close to my bedtime
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