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#egoism
She is eager, wants to have me, yet not give up -- anything for me.
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Sep 25, 2025
Sep 25, 2025 at 3:43 AM UTC
[ She is eager, wants ]
What price adventure When the risk outweighs the venture, No dishonor not to start, Merely you just being smart. If compunction is the cause, That adrenaline rush which draws, Take a breath and think it through, Is the only one affected - you? Does bravery need be so foolhardy, With reason as an afterthought and tardy, When blind desire clearly trumps all thought, For ego trips that can be simply bought. Extreme tourism knows no other name, Never quite the path to everlasting fame, At best it gives a sudden winded rush, At worst with Death itself you'll surely brush. So many have regardless met such fate, Gone far too soon before their fated date, For every mountain peak or ocean deep, Lie countless graves where mothers sadly weep.
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Jun 27, 2023
Jun 27, 2023 at 9:38 AM UTC
When does reason trump extreme adventure
I know fathers fail as the great man who knows the outside world with whom you are safe, and happy when he is proud of you who takes you with him and shows you the way in his domain, and step by step you begin to see that it is different That doesn't count at first but suddenly it's over Then you no longer listen to your pet name, you fight scratches in your soul cracks in the calluses It bleeds when you scratch it Until you can breathe freely and the wounds close
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Jun 12, 2023
Jun 12, 2023 at 1:59 AM UTC
It's bleeding
At home on the couch I crumple the edges of the puke bag The old times, the old songs the excuses for the postponement of the promised future are back, back from not having been away We're still at home in Old Man State, our freedom was a dream There are no more musicians and no more beautiful girls from Ukraine The iron cold is back, back from not having been away
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Jun 11, 2023
Jun 11, 2023 at 2:43 AM UTC
Back from not having been away
Believers give God a portion of His abundance not as a sacrifice, but as a person who helps neighbours and fellow villagers spares pack animals and allows butterflies to flutter and who is not only sweet to stuffed animals but builds fountains to water the noble horses Unbelievers decide for themselves whether they sell their yield what they eat and what they share God and greedy people too choose themselves who benefits what the henchmen get for taking, and the front men for hiding the abundance in the heavenly clouds of Moneyland
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Mar 31, 2023
Mar 31, 2023 at 2:50 AM UTC
Moneyland
Don't think of yourself! Join me, you would never want -- me to go alone!
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Oct 17, 2022
Oct 17, 2022 at 3:52 AM UTC
[ Don't think of yourself! ]
People are party to politics for the peace -- of self-interest.
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Feb 10, 2022
Feb 10, 2022 at 3:20 AM UTC
[ People are party ]
Such a selfish thought Being attached to the past when it is understood moments are not meant to last. Change is braided with time, Are we supposed to ignore that?
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Feb 5, 2021
Feb 5, 2021 at 6:16 AM UTC
Resistance
Egoism kills, I read, when walking. I continued, strolling ahead and talking to myself. I assured me I was fine, the problem 'egoism' wasn't mine. At home, cozy, dropping kisses to the missus and the kids, amidst I stopped, I questioned myself and told them I had come up with a plan. Do if you're strong and respect those who do whatever they can to spread the charisma of care-ism, a way to think of the others and **** egoism.
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Apr 7, 2020
Apr 7, 2020 at 6:46 PM UTC
Cozy
The most rhymed word In the poetry world is Me. That reveals volumes about Us.
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Dec 20, 2018
Dec 20, 2018 at 7:51 AM UTC
Me
Egoism is root of everything everything in the universe every behaviour People try to deny that but it's a lie in the end, their action is also the result of egoism; however, neatly hidden
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Jun 22, 2018
Jun 22, 2018 at 5:06 AM UTC
Thoughts#13 , egoism
Here's an adage to evaluate: God helps those who help themselves. Allow me please to start debating, Speaking first on race relations; Then you might go on on tax deductions, And I'll rebut with school age shootings, And all the *** and moral misconduct; But the pinnacle's reached With hedonistic fate, The Oval Office of those United States.
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Feb 20, 2018
Feb 20, 2018 at 9:25 AM UTC
God Helps Those...
you thought it was her decision but instead it was you she was ready to give you everything but it was you who locked the door you thought she was on the inside ignoring the sounds while you knocked and knocked but those who live on the streets wonder why you won't come outside or let them in you treat her like a guest visiting her life doing her a favor forgiving her explaining her away waiting for her to open the door the one you closed and as you sit alone she feels the same as before lost loving a man who cannot love anything except his own mind
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Oct 5, 2015
Oct 5, 2015 at 11:33 PM UTC
Which Side of the Door
capsized beating purple algorithm for a heart, cross-nit aspirations still taste dirt on my teeth, the mission creep of eager eyed poets, carry a briefcase with my levi's -- close cut cigarette encounters, all brick shantytown of a friendship them lovelies run on endless, it's starting to get cold outside. restless sprites circle our ***** exhaling greek mythopoeics every sure footed step. alcoholism echoes in my skin a depth charge i cannot cut out, we all have broken thoughts here, all have blind spots in our stomachs, they read like a preacher's insecurities: burly things we warm ourselves with, the winters sting bitter. something is wrong with me, sinkhole of ambition and honey kisses, all the great thinkers **** themselves, it's the staunch lack of spotlight, way the earth drips lackadaisical-like we just call it a perfect orbit. shake my hand and feel a goldilocks pulse anemic shards of a cornered animal, we cut right to the bone here, or so we tell ourselves. and love is always the answer? that sure footed toothy angel so beautiful, it couldn't just be our churlish blood, frothing and calming, frothing and calming, electrons rise and fall to create light, they still circle an untapped atrocity perfectly, like this, like it must be god or something close. something stopping them from running, free from bonds ionic or otherwise, bare feet beating the pavement until there are no more stones to throw. firstborns of the universe, each star is a setting sun, blinks staggered, still grew us up quicker than most, there is no aphrodisiac like heliocentrism. them bones cut good doped up on oxytocin, those empty thoughts still rattling, dig sharp -- then nice and numb. and we cutthroat and glossy, sharper than ever. walk outside smoke a cigarette know how much you love her, look at the stars -- it's ******* beautiful isn't it
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Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 7:57 PM UTC
Jesus, Ect.
capsized beating purple algorithm for a heart, cross-nit aspirations still taste dirt on my teeth, the mission creep of eager eyed poets, carry a briefcase with my levi's -- close cut cigarette encounters, all brick shantytown of a friendship them lovelies run on endless, it's starting to get cold outside. restless sprites circle our ***** exhaling greek mythopoeics every sure footed step. alcoholism echoes in my skin a depth charge i cannot cut out, we all have broken thoughts here, all have blind spots in our stomachs, they read like a preacher's insecurities: burly things we warm ourselves with, the winters sting bitter. something is wrong with me, sinkhole of ambition and honey kisses, all the great thinkers **** themselves, it's the staunch lack of spotlight, way the earth drips lackadaisical-like we just call it a perfect orbit. shake my hand and feel a goldilocks pulse anemic shards of a cornered animal, we cut right to the bone here, or so we tell ourselves. and love is always the answer? that sure footed toothy angel so beautiful, it couldn't just be our churlish blood, frothing and calming, frothing and calming, electrons rise and fall to create light, they still circle an untapped atrocity perfectly, like this, like it must be god or something close. something stopping them from running, free from bonds ionic or otherwise, bare feet beating the pavement until there are no more stones to throw. firstborns of the universe, each star is a setting sun, blinks staggered, still grew us up quicker than most, there is no aphrodisiac like heliocentrism. them bones cut good doped up on oxytocin, those empty thoughts still rattling, dig sharp -- then nice and numb. and we cutthroat and glossy, sharper than ever. walk outside smoke a cigarette know how much you love her, look at the stars -- it's ******* beautiful isn't it
Continue reading...
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Poetry is the altruistic apogee of the individualistic emotional egoist. The lack of feeling, and the lack of empathy, the petty attempt to hide them with creativity. It’s truly astonishing how we can fool ourselves into thinking we’re kind When we’re just wasting our time, pretending to see when we’re blind. How could we ever emulate our chemical imbalances on one another? The only way to do it is the kindly overrated feeling of love and affection. And why would we need words, if we’re sure about our love for each other? Oh, we’re puzzled to believe that our puny poetry represents felt perfection. Yet we just walk through the valleys of lyricism, Lost in our own wishes for joy or demise And yet we become shadows of perfectionism Filled with the detachment we criticize. Our representation is our perdition We've lost ourselves in our own mission.
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Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 10:04 PM UTC
Egoism