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#fanatics
On the far edge of the world there are fanatics of many minds and religions. They have uninteresting histories, jejune existences, and distorted ideas of nature. Some are belligerent, felony-friendly foreigners. I’ve never given them a single thought, because they're nothing to me. They’re insignificant—living curiosities and I grant them no more sympathy than I would a flock of wild birds. Of course, I’d never wish to harm wild birds unless they had the wherewithal to attack me, in inimitable, Hitchcock style. . . Songs for this: Kashmir by  by Toni Jevicky broken people by narcissists cookbook Bring Me to Silence (Audiotree Live) by Fievel Is Glauque
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Jun 24, 2025
Jun 24, 2025 at 7:05 AM UTC
the edge
With your hands, You glady cover their mouths Muffling the cries of sorrow While you are gagged and silent With your blinded eyes You fight for the wrong you thought was right While others die for the truth With covered ears, You can not hear the pleas of the poor You are nothing more than a mindless puppet While others have precious principles
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Feb 16, 2021
Feb 16, 2021 at 10:03 PM UTC
Puppet
Got girls dragging me in every direction, got me deciding who’s cool and who’s a distraction, all these reactions to their reactions, has me needing a recess to retreat from all this action, but I guess that’s what I get, for being one of the Main Attractions, a magnetic poet with ******** stanzas, dramatic romances and poetic patterns, hey friend remember back when, you’d act natural and things would just naturally happen, instead of being in something that seems reused and rehearsed, like all the world’s a stage and we’re all just actors acting, hey friend remember back when, we’d act casual and things would just casually happen, as if these writings weren’t written in present past patterns, as if I haven’t gotten bigger than any of those assorted Randoms, with a bunch of instances of coincidences, that are anything but random, which has switched this kid’s position, from being random to being one that’s obsessed on by randoms, and it’s strange to say the least, how this change has occurred in such a subtle fashion…. See she was my most casual stalker, just wanting some time to share my space, see she was me several years ago, before all these changes in me finally took place, she was a socially awkward Closet Genius, the closest thing to me I’d seen since fame, closed to most of the world which she felt was dangerous, see she only opened up to me because here’s where she felt safe, so I warned her of the Energy Vampires, then wondered if she was one of those Vampire Dames, you know the type that act all hyped, then as soon as they leave you you feel drained, at any rate I warned her to beware of those that stare, and told her her soul is worth more than any amount of fame, then excused myself from the entire situation, because it was time for me to put on my cleats and return to The Game, return back to writing these writings which wrote me to fame, and I know it sounds complicated but really it is simple, only requires a potent combination of mixing the answers, with the questions in the middle of pros composed as riddles, like, how I’ve got girls dragging me in every direction, got me deciding who’s cool and who’s a distraction, all these reactions to their reactions, has me needing a recess to retreat from all this action, but I guess that’s what I get, for being one of the Main Attractions, a magnetic poet with ******** stanzas, dramatic romances and poetic patterns, hey friend remember back when, you’d act natural and things would just naturally happen, instead of being in something that seems reused and rehearsed, like all the world’s a stage and we’re all just actors acting… ∆ LaLux ∆ New book available absolutely FREE, please give it a thumbs up here: www.scribd.com/document/367036005
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Mar 16, 2018
Mar 16, 2018 at 7:32 PM UTC
My Most Casual Stalker
Got girls dragging me in every direction, got me deciding who’s cool and who’s a distraction, all these reactions to their reactions, has me needing a recess to retreat from all this action, but I guess that’s what I get, for being one of the Main Attractions, a magnetic poet with ******** stanzas, dramatic romances and poetic patterns, hey friend remember back when, you’d act natural and things would just naturally happen, instead of being in something that seems reused and rehearsed, like all the world’s a stage and we’re all just actors acting, hey friend remember back when, we’d act casual and things would just casually happen, as if these writings weren’t written in present past patterns, as if I haven’t gotten bigger than any of those assorted Randoms, with a bunch of instances of coincidences, that are anything but random, which has switched this kid’s position, from being random to being one that’s obsessed on by randoms, and it’s strange to say the least, how this change has occurred in such a subtle fashion…. See she was my most casual stalker, just wanting some time to share my space, see she was me several years ago, before all these changes in me finally took place, she was a socially awkward Closet Genius, the closest thing to me I’d seen since fame, closed to most of the world which she felt was dangerous, see she only opened up to me because here’s where she felt safe, so I warned her of the Energy Vampires, then wondered if she was one of those Vampire Dames, you know the type that act all hyped, then as soon as they leave you you feel drained, at any rate I warned her to beware of those that stare, and told her her soul is worth more than any amount of fame, then excused myself from the entire situation, because it was time for me to put on my cleats and return to The Game, return back to writing these writings which wrote me to fame, and I know it sounds complicated but really it is simple, only requires a potent combination of mixing the answers, with the questions in the middle of pros composed as riddles, like, how I’ve got girls dragging me in every direction, got me deciding who’s cool and who’s a distraction, all these reactions to their reactions, has me needing a recess to retreat from all this action, but I guess that’s what I get, for being one of the Main Attractions, a magnetic poet with ******** stanzas, dramatic romances and poetic patterns, hey friend remember back when, you’d act natural and things would just naturally happen, instead of being in something that seems reused and rehearsed, like all the world’s a stage and we’re all just actors acting… ∆ LaLux ∆ New book available absolutely FREE, please give it a thumbs up here: www.scribd.com/document/367036005
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apparently we live in times in which disasters chase each other around the globe in never-ending sequence or is it just the real-time news media hype that gives us this impression? yet even if I generously discard the ****** massacres and crises far away there are enough rough dreadful things that even if they don’t affect me ****** do touch my heart and make me grieve with the afflicted methinks we’re coming near the point when the majority of normal people on our globe will rise an tell fanatics of all creeds to shove it take a shower just go home and let us live our lives in peace !
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Jul 11, 2016
Jul 11, 2016 at 3:29 PM UTC
troubling times
those killers of innocents will die in their own blood not even mistranslated 72 houris can save them    the misguided fanatics of Paris    who shot happy civilians    with their Kalashnikovs    and then blew themselves up    will have discovered that    by now to throw terror and death into people’s daily lives is an abominable crime not a heroic deed those who instigated the massacre shall be punished accordingly fake heroes revealed as ruthless criminals shall face judgement in whose light their great deeds are shown as what they are ****** ****** yet – far beyond the proper punishment     required after cruel acts there is the need to look ahead and face the somewhat inconvenient necessity to     remove the roots of violence veiled as religion     speak up and stand up firm against fanaticized minorities         no matter in whose name the claim to act       bring peace to regions devastated by the dire games of politics we simply cannot allow a bunch of ruthless desperados to dominate our lives             * * *
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Nov 14, 2015
Nov 14, 2015 at 5:33 PM UTC
Paris massacre (reposted on the occasion of its 1st anniversary)
Your 'Top TRP' news team has just learnt that A consortium of fanatics and hypocrites now claim That the proprietorship of 'God' is now with them And will spew hatred on anyone disobeying them. Our unnameable “reliable” sources tell us that Anyone desiring to worship 'God' “more perfectly,” Henceforth, must follow their rules quite strictly Or floggings will be handed out quite promptly. Our brave insider informants have divulged that At last have awaken our pious priests and scholars To discuss these “disturbing new developments;” But they're upset most about lost revenue streams. The atheists were seen rejoicing and saying that There is no need any more, *“for us to self-promote While our competitors repeatedly self-mutilate.”* But have they forgotten, Stalin also preached hate? Our unquestionably reliable survey tells us that We are angry, sad, glad, disgusted and also clueless In roughly equal measure. But most are just curious: “How all this bla-bla will effect commodity prices?” There was however, an 'odd' man who said that God is Love and God does not hate. Will turn to rust He who chooses hate. *“Not in someone's deep pocket Will I find God. But God I'll find, always in my heart.”*
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Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 9:19 AM UTC
Breaking news !!
You’re left at the back, anxious at sunrise as day by day we drift through consciousness. Ring the Bell. These thoughts are your demise Act profound, fixating us with lies Invigorate a prompt adress; your qualms are back, anxious at sunrise You’re mother’s boy, your father’s eyes they know first hand, you’re prone to stress: so ring the bell. Your thoughts: our demise. Refrain from fear, nor anthropomorphise: doe’s endear, their bliss is careless. You’re stuck at the back, anxious as sons rise and fall or fail to climb. Surprise, surprise, with fear of death you now obsess, over the bell. Our words: your demise. They say you’re fine, you compromise, it’s in your head, that last abscess. You’re left to rot; absent at sunrise they’ve all forgotten. Those thoughts, your demise.
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May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 6:24 AM UTC
Morose Affliction