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#blanks
My head is empty, I think there's a hole, Because every time I fill it up, It all seems to go. Did my inspirations take a walk, Is my talent wandering? Where are my thoughts, One empty head, That's all I've got.
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Mar 7, 2025
Mar 7, 2025 at 10:26 AM UTC
Empty Thoughts
Fantasy, the kind you dream, _______. In a world where all comes true, _______. Just like a story book, _______. Floating, flying, hovering, _______. Everything is good, _______.
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Jan 28, 2025
Jan 28, 2025 at 9:31 AM UTC
You Left It _____?
I see my life through plexiglass Trying to bulletproof the past, Nostalgia? No, but I recall That rising up precedes the fall. But the films I watch inside my mind Are missing parts I cannot find So I fill the blanks with what I see, I fill it up with what I need. Now is it truth, or is it lie? I like to think that I am right, But I’m not the well-oiled machine I used to think I used to be.
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Jun 13, 2024
Jun 13, 2024 at 8:47 PM UTC
Plexiglass
Oh my god, did you just.. He only said it as a joke... No, no.. you, why you smiling... (inaudible gurgling) Well I did a joke.. Knock, knock, (silence) Ok ill fill in the blanks Who's there.. Who lives forever? Death... Punch line was just ****** marvellous! Marvellous, look at me swallowing a thesaurus . Ok, he said he'd live forever, I just got to the point we all die, Be it before were birthed, crossing a road. The last cheese burger.. Flatline../\…./\…......... Sorry, but we all die some sooner, me not yet, you pair, sorry yes.
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May 1, 2020
May 1, 2020 at 4:55 PM UTC
Were All Fated To Pass..
Fill in the blanks. Feel in the blanks. Feeling the blanks.
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Apr 26, 2019
Apr 26, 2019 at 4:28 PM UTC
F**l
whenever i feel empty, I try to evaluate myself, much like how a student evaluates the questions before skimming for the answers. fill in the blanks, the tiny crevices made by sadness, the cracks and gaps of loneliness; help me and fill them out with human company. fill in the blanks; sheets of paper, empty, an untouched screen, the faint humming of a computer, the pens and pencils, neat and free from human activity. fill them in; draw and draw until your mind begs to stop; write and write until the words don't make sense; I've been trying to do so much just to make sure that gaping hole of pure, slow, and excruciating loneliness and depression gets temporarily covered. I've been trying to fill in the blanks in my life since day one. It seems like it'll never work.
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Sep 20, 2018
Sep 20, 2018 at 10:19 AM UTC
fill in the blanks
#*My mind shot rounds. Successful bursts. But they wouldn’t stick. They wouldn’t stain. Shot out some more. The same... Been shooting unfocused. Been shooting stray and reckless. Been shooting blanks.*#
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Mar 11, 2018
Mar 11, 2018 at 6:42 AM UTC
Blanks
this poetic prologue a feeble exercise to encapsulate common place frustration experienced by this fledgling author. yukon determine verdict once ye peruse short spurious poem below decks will consume scant minutes. hoop fully byte size format asper reflections bing hobbled akin twin frustrated cobbler with nary a sole to shoe healing power of summoning creativity words stitched together trying ma darnedest to capture fleeting idea. filed within memory banks jagged shoals of rock illusory images frieze leitmotif cerebral pad lock forcing together mis matched metaphors or what not ad hoc there a young lad skipping with his lass in colorful frock passing fanciful day dream lazing about on the dock while hands of time tick on the clock sober reality check tears me away from idyllic distractions rearing head of immense frightful mental block a bygone student of Antioch. now an epilogue and expansion of given thesis sans above premise. i now oblige objective at hand, and resume con sue mating avant garde fashion express sing difficulty for me to seal craft building blocks of english language in a fitting manner does justice, and gives liberty to leap ping lizard like thoughts that dart to and fro hither and yon within my mind. rather than censor or edit, I pour out at rapid fire rate the notions that flit thru me noggin staring at black strunk white screen. some times eyes remain closed to help initiate process to summon forth this, that or another barely perceptible concept. the task less difficult when topic provided happens to be the case with self imposed approximately five *** dread word epistle, which preconceived subject automatically narrows focus into figurative box. when provided with specified issue, the effort arduous to gather plethora of disparate points indicating directions diatribe in question could shift. any one of these paths (if not most) take down moribund dead end with only infinite abyss as an escape. countless trials and errors find exploration (to state near physical exhaustion) where each bramble strewn route only finds this pensive fellow hopelessly and inextricably entangled within his own thicket of unprintable verbiage. would you believe and/ or accept, that ah aha eureka moment arises (and vacuum powerfully ***** up every ounce of concentration) most unexpectedly and inconveniently per on the toilet, when paragraphs nearly tumble pell mell of their accord (defying laws of physics) from tips of these fingers or bowels of this simian. a frantic attempt finds zealous effort to tap unstoppable barrage barreling forth from fount of mother lode, than finds slightest distraction (such as a delivery of parcel, tornado, cosmic catastrophe, et cetera) to lose precious spider thin thread forever (at the eleventh hour) lost along vast vista abandoned like useless obsolete materiel. even upon minutes scrutinizing satisfactory completion sans lengthy manuscript, an unbiased opinion of displeasure frequently takes place finds disappoint ment, and these myopic eyes blink and stare once again at white washed computer screen.
0
Feb 4, 2018
Feb 4, 2018 at 1:29 AM UTC
Struggle to write right!
this poetic prologue a feeble exercise to encapsulate common place frustration experienced by this fledgling author. yukon determine verdict once ye peruse short spurious poem below decks will consume scant minutes. hoop fully byte size format asper reflections bing hobbled akin twin frustrated cobbler with nary a sole to shoe healing power of summoning creativity words stitched together trying ma darnedest to capture fleeting idea. filed within memory banks jagged shoals of rock illusory images frieze leitmotif cerebral pad lock forcing together mis matched metaphors or what not ad hoc there a young lad skipping with his lass in colorful frock passing fanciful day dream lazing about on the dock while hands of time tick on the clock sober reality check tears me away from idyllic distractions rearing head of immense frightful mental block a bygone student of Antioch. now an epilogue and expansion of given thesis sans above premise. i now oblige objective at hand, and resume con sue mating avant garde fashion express sing difficulty for me to seal craft building blocks of english language in a fitting manner does justice, and gives liberty to leap ping lizard like thoughts that dart to and fro hither and yon within my mind. rather than censor or edit, I pour out at rapid fire rate the notions that flit thru me noggin staring at black strunk white screen. some times eyes remain closed to help initiate process to summon forth this, that or another barely perceptible concept. the task less difficult when topic provided happens to be the case with self imposed approximately five *** dread word epistle, which preconceived subject automatically narrows focus into figurative box. when provided with specified issue, the effort arduous to gather plethora of disparate points indicating directions diatribe in question could shift. any one of these paths (if not most) take down moribund dead end with only infinite abyss as an escape. countless trials and errors find exploration (to state near physical exhaustion) where each bramble strewn route only finds this pensive fellow hopelessly and inextricably entangled within his own thicket of unprintable verbiage. would you believe and/ or accept, that ah aha eureka moment arises (and vacuum powerfully ***** up every ounce of concentration) most unexpectedly and inconveniently per on the toilet, when paragraphs nearly tumble pell mell of their accord (defying laws of physics) from tips of these fingers or bowels of this simian. a frantic attempt finds zealous effort to tap unstoppable barrage barreling forth from fount of mother lode, than finds slightest distraction (such as a delivery of parcel, tornado, cosmic catastrophe, et cetera) to lose precious spider thin thread forever (at the eleventh hour) lost along vast vista abandoned like useless obsolete materiel. even upon minutes scrutinizing satisfactory completion sans lengthy manuscript, an unbiased opinion of displeasure frequently takes place finds disappoint ment, and these myopic eyes blink and stare once again at white washed computer screen.
Continue reading...
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*Hi! My name is _____________ and I'm ________ years old. My favourite subject is ______________ and I like to _______________ in my spare time. I believe in ____________ and from time to time I also go ______________. My family is pretty cool, I've got _____ siblings and I really enjoy my time with my family. My father however is currently _____________ and my mom is trying to cope with that. My school is very ______________, but I enjoy being there anyway. My friends are very ____________ and I enjoy my time at school, it's a nice time to enjoy my own existence in a building. But you don't want to live my life. It's too ________________. Underneath this skin lies the ______________ I try to hide. I'm constantly ____________ and _____________. Why am I just so _______________ with this?! You don't know how much I go through. You barely know me. There is always information lost in translation. You shouldn't feel bad that you don't know me. How could you? You're missing something. I can tell you what it is. You-- are missing _______________.*
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Mar 20, 2017
Mar 20, 2017 at 9:12 PM UTC
____________: A Meaningless Poem
The beginning and you knew from the start, your words formed like heaven sent art. There's nothing I'd rather do than just be with you, kiss you, tell you I love you. But I'm not stupid, I'm not blind, I can see it's all a lie. Throughout the middle, it's a riddle and hard to understand but it's always been a man I wanted to hold my hand. The truth is hidden inside and when it comes time, A lie will fill in this rhyme. This line will tell the whole truth, everything you don't even know about you. Towards the end, it's a friend I need but I couldn't tell you where that might lead. There's more to it, I filled that in too late, now I must accentuate, it must have been fate. The ending will show the past and a future that don't exist, a heartbreak you knew I couldn't resist.
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Aug 11, 2014
Aug 11, 2014 at 11:02 PM UTC
You Knew I Couldn't Resist
I glide beside and behind a fog gathering where washed love stains satin I hold drawn tightly swelling The Follower my target blasting out and in between the graves of the ninety-eight percent I breathe the introduction in leaves inscribed foiled I am blown glass molded in heat in the shock waves of a bullet in slow motion in free fall
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Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 4:48 AM UTC
Shooting Blanks