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#dubois
We live in the unlighted state of America Where what happens when we turn the lights off Is dealt with darkness And matters of delicate touch Are treated with sharpness When our only language Is to inflict anguish We cut connections in the bedroom To clear our cynical head room For contempt and judgement People looking for a feeling to fall into Or a reason to live Must face frigid climates When the public invades privacy And ill fated ****** exploits Pervade salacious tabloids Our ****** regrets Cut the deepest Society reaps them Sowing us together with resentment We provide each other with relief But not the relief we're looking for We give each other hours of relief Until those useless hours become days And those fruitless days become years That engender endless tears As it remains warm in our car But the winter outside freezes anything that breaks the plane And our air conditioning only helps so much When the spinning wheels are in our faces There is a national coverage in the media That presents a bleak picture of the ****** health of America I feel I sit somewhere in between *** offenders and a disgusted public When I observe the observers Who are too scared shitless to ever face their own emotions Judge those for overindulging in their emotions They lived their life in fear and safety So they could be the righteous ones To admonish the risk takers and mistake makers Yet they are of the least value to humanity They're the people who grade all your answers as incorrect Without providing their perfect alternatives While trying to erase the context Because of what the context has to say about society People feeling that they can never be emotionally vulnerable Until they experience sheer desperation And no dollar contract Can replace human contact Yet we give men so much money and power And ask them to feel fine in our cold shower Until we are soiled by their intention A nation committed to selling Stella Artois A nation full of Blanche DuBois Humanity folds in on itself When we attack with *** Humanity does itself a disservice By not trying to understand these attacks honestly We forsake forgiveness And embrace desperation Until we become unbearably desperate For attention For approval For ****** contact For money For validation And sometimes our desperate desires become tangled I'd like to think of that as love And not a meeting between two practical rapists That conjoin in the middle Yet somehow come out distorted on the other side
0
Nov 26, 2017
Nov 26, 2017 at 4:55 AM UTC
andrew-rueter
Blanche DuBois
We live in the unlighted state of America Where what happens when we turn the lights off Is dealt with darkness And matters of delicate touch Are treated with sharpness When our only language Is to inflict anguish We cut connections in the bedroom To clear our cynical head room For contempt and judgement People looking for a feeling to fall into Or a reason to live Must face frigid climates When the public invades privacy And ill fated ****** exploits Pervade salacious tabloids Our ****** regrets Cut the deepest Society reaps them Sowing us together with resentment We provide each other with relief But not the relief we're looking for We give each other hours of relief Until those useless hours become days And those fruitless days become years That engender endless tears As it remains warm in our car But the winter outside freezes anything that breaks the plane And our air conditioning only helps so much When the spinning wheels are in our faces There is a national coverage in the media That presents a bleak picture of the ****** health of America I feel I sit somewhere in between *** offenders and a disgusted public When I observe the observers Who are too scared shitless to ever face their own emotions Judge those for overindulging in their emotions They lived their life in fear and safety So they could be the righteous ones To admonish the risk takers and mistake makers Yet they are of the least value to humanity They're the people who grade all your answers as incorrect Without providing their perfect alternatives While trying to erase the context Because of what the context has to say about society People feeling that they can never be emotionally vulnerable Until they experience sheer desperation And no dollar contract Can replace human contact Yet we give men so much money and power And ask them to feel fine in our cold shower Until we are soiled by their intention A nation committed to selling Stella Artois A nation full of Blanche DuBois Humanity folds in on itself When we attack with *** Humanity does itself a disservice By not trying to understand these attacks honestly We forsake forgiveness And embrace desperation Until we become unbearably desperate For attention For approval For ****** contact For money For validation And sometimes our desperate desires become tangled I'd like to think of that as love And not a meeting between two practical rapists That conjoin in the middle Yet somehow come out distorted on the other side
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71
I’m turning from Blanche DuBois into Chris Benoit taking a streetcar named Desire to Monday Night Raw after the oppression of the law got stuck in my craw because the discretion of the flawed became the voice of God. I’d always relied on the kindness of strangers only to find the Million Dollar Man’s danger directing the Army Rangers to Jesus’ manger letting the Undertaker deal with the remainder. I relinquished my rightful place to the bank’s Crippler Crossface taking everything until I lost grace going into a holocaust craze. I’m upset about the places I can’t go because I’ll be ***** by Marlon Brando when I ask the referee for a hand though he just responds with a ****** no. I have retired my display of Vivian Leigh now Whatever by Our Lady Peace plays as the Rabid Wolverine walks to the stage to fight the Big Boss Man in a cage. I gave up teaching class to my sister to fight an *** who’s a mister whose slaps can blister so he blasts this spinster. The law is a tougher opponent than Eddie Guerrero so I apply my aptitude into becoming a pistolero after getting jabbed by my French Quarter pharaohs I can feel resistance down in my Marc Mero. I start to take steroids because there are boys whose terror noise impairs my poise. I go all out performing flying headbutts fighting until I see the dead’s guts exterminating enemies like bed bugs but then I start to dread hugs. Now I assume a stranger’s spite so I can immediately fight I’m swallowed by night wearing these tights. In my rage I **** my wife and son now my anger is no longer fun even if it came from their gun it’s me who’s the loneliest one. I changed from a lady to a wrestler losing my ****** mind fighting Mankind while stepping on landmines until I can’t find any grand signs and I’m anger defined.
0
Jun 2, 2020
Jun 2, 2020 at 5:20 AM UTC
andrew-rueter
From Blanche DuBois into Chris Benoit
I’m turning from Blanche DuBois into Chris Benoit taking a streetcar named Desire to Monday Night Raw after the oppression of the law got stuck in my craw because the discretion of the flawed became the voice of God. I’d always relied on the kindness of strangers only to find the Million Dollar Man’s danger directing the Army Rangers to Jesus’ manger letting the Undertaker deal with the remainder. I relinquished my rightful place to the bank’s Crippler Crossface taking everything until I lost grace going into a holocaust craze. I’m upset about the places I can’t go because I’ll be ***** by Marlon Brando when I ask the referee for a hand though he just responds with a ****** no. I have retired my display of Vivian Leigh now Whatever by Our Lady Peace plays as the Rabid Wolverine walks to the stage to fight the Big Boss Man in a cage. I gave up teaching class to my sister to fight an *** who’s a mister whose slaps can blister so he blasts this spinster. The law is a tougher opponent than Eddie Guerrero so I apply my aptitude into becoming a pistolero after getting jabbed by my French Quarter pharaohs I can feel resistance down in my Marc Mero. I start to take steroids because there are boys whose terror noise impairs my poise. I go all out performing flying headbutts fighting until I see the dead’s guts exterminating enemies like bed bugs but then I start to dread hugs. Now I assume a stranger’s spite so I can immediately fight I’m swallowed by night wearing these tights. In my rage I **** my wife and son now my anger is no longer fun even if it came from their gun it’s me who’s the loneliest one. I changed from a lady to a wrestler losing my ****** mind fighting Mankind while stepping on landmines until I can’t find any grand signs and I’m anger defined.
Continue reading...
48