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#foever
drumm drumm drummed in two ranks of auto- filers whacking keys and levers and springs slamming edged quantum of scripture i e o u y vowels of no need-- back in cunieforming time then came those monkeys with the typesetters whose keys never got stuck uno marko per stroke five 'undred per bit of etaoinshrdlu click click cliche' time measured by degrees in fractual sym-metry wit' bio me Tumeric kicks in, eases the swelling of the bubble. Imagine the imaginings of a child reading funny papers in the privy, smokin' grapevine for no known reason, or, maybe it appeased the flies, while I sat upon the throne in a tower of my own wandering through memories of Terry and the Pirates saving Dalai Lama from the clutches of the abomb-in-abled snowman, Yet-i isis now, the Prince of Persia, once more? No, this battle is not mine. This war was won; at that crossroad in Perry's Cafe when the offer was made: star a footnote here aster-risks have not been invented... we must reduce opacity. histoical he refused the deal but  did Write the course "The Internet in One Day" work for hire, a good gig, then Netscape went public, reality validated verification of the efficacy of Feynman's reversible NAND gates, the future was super positioned No taxes, tarriffs or tithes; pay flat twenty percent for eighty in return, guaranteed in for by of we, the people's adaptation to Paredo's Principle versed in Solomonic Wisdom, re-de-clearing no non new things under the sun, trial by total emersion in a sea of green sans yellah submarine, acid etched re collectibles dust and debris, flotsam jetsome wetsome old girls dream it's now, the future, 2019, and some of us survived the seventies in hiding, we're back. wee voices you ignore at your peril, not every inspiration is from for by good. Some are. Some words live in the sounds they make, hocus pocus abra cadabra, for instance... is heard by children as the leaven-less wafer transmogrifates at the spoken words Hoc es Corpus Genutim, non factum magic thinking is nothing like what you thought, child. The message is believable, the messengers may be otherwise. EH? wad-eye-say-- eee- eh? Self-evidence is acceptible, take a hold, get agrippa comprehension sweet-almost persuasive enough to mask the bitter ever after taste of century eggs left in the fridge too long Biome, bio-me, self-effident-icacious conch-ious ness, ac knowledged... these words lived once, the eggish-isms egging us on, go on, only you... not me, I'll wait I've slipped, I've fallen... where's the beef? Was this a common quest? 1972. Sheizbomb, pirate orange sunshine. 1973. We reached escape velocity 1974. Trajectory changed 1975. Lost contact, she's near Cuyguna 1976. Prego 1977. Aha, the reason is born Future 2019 will seem as real as you may imagine. I promise, Ever after, all, as real as you may imagine. I promise look, see self evident truth, act asif you know and understand angel talk there remains a rest for the cadabre we inhabit, "Dancing Queen" "Fernando" Abba's body of disco hits, missed by missing one decade and a half, in sanct-if-ication vacation to become a hermit when I grew old, if ever, hoc corpus, eh, as long as faith remains rememe-r-able post Sini-ification of Suffering, (the Dragon from the East is not the beast embodied in the west with golden head, silver breast, brazen ***** iron legs and flaking rusting feet of steel stuck in sludge ponds and stump ponds and undrained swamps and sloughs {called wet lands by frogs and ducks}) Ah, so The golden-green-blue dragons gracing slotmachines, lure hopers to the slime, not green Nickleodean slime, real slime from century eggs white jelly gone dark, dark brown and stinky... even if i'd tried, I'd never have imagined eating a century egg sans chewing, just gulp swallow it whole. Din't choke gk kg. deja vu? no, you missed something. waiting is being Dalai Lama, half-scientist, half-otherwise aware there, in exile, remains hoping a peace past standing under the acknowledging of good and evil, new mercies on one side, meaculpa, mea maxima culpa, on the other. Who pays? Me or Jesu or the pariah one step up from a cockroach? Wait and see. Be still. Don't ask Mother Teresa, she had no clue. But she finished what she began, that was her plan, skip as much purgatory as abody can stand imagining worth it all. Me, says the hermit, I took the grace Noah found. Wait and see. Get ready. Google translate the Latin Mass, then imagine it being a message you must hearken to drum drumm drummmed into your brain before your prefrontal cortextual tester circuits formed and your responses were ever etched on the tables of your faith belivin' childheart, sweetheart, just think, what if good news gathering is even-jelly-if I can. Evangelical, if I say-tion sugar pi, event-tually we see, fine, details, points to every true story a bed of nails no liar may rest upon 'fi say so, semper fi. {evangelicum laude graduates bher no bad news in ever} --phi beta kappa, key that opens what?-- do you know what meaning signals breathe? beat? Take great gulping gasps of air, affording your self evident right to surface, as a bubble you can breathe in. I think we're alone now there doesn't seem to be any one around, now 1977, that was four whole decades ago? Right. And whenever you are, dear reader, this was ever ago. I testify, I examined this life. It has been worth the effort. Now I wait. Still. Try it. Here, there, no condemnation, the act it self just is null-ift before asif goes whatif and we lose our value, we balance madness. We work closely with Cleo, she handles historical re visioning. time out-- essential term screams for discretion, get to the grain--- What noise is this... mmmmm Muse- muse- just, muse like music, drummm drummm hummmmm Define, fine, granularity, like salt or sand or sugar but qualia mysterium familiarus Term definition. Lord means h'laf weardan, {Welsh} warden, protector of our bread, by which man does not live alone, owner of the tower in the vinyard where your captive enemies languish in your wishless hate. We wait, we companions be, joined by the leaven from the sky leaving footprints in granulated sugar salted sand, feel it, sorta sticky, like toe-jam. like mebbe toejam spreader and the Walrus was CS Lewis level mere signposts at degrees of little thinker steps tick tic tic spiraling clock wise from up, counter-clockwise from down forward, ever onward, off is impossible in the land of on, here for ever is too much good stuff, but that lasts (to the same level of qualia judgment degree) mere mortal moments flash. Here we be, wondering and wandering, to an fro, to get a feel, for real. This can't go on for ever, they say. Shall we see, I say... as I passed away. Life goes on, and no lie follows Listen, it's finished, that's all we need say. Live on. Be good, or die trying. No lying about anything. What if ever did begin and you simply failed to be aware?
0
Aug 23, 2019
Aug 23, 2019 at 3:11 PM UTC
We're there yet, waiting
drumm drumm drummed in two ranks of auto- filers whacking keys and levers and springs slamming edged quantum of scripture i e o u y vowels of no need-- back in cunieforming time then came those monkeys with the typesetters whose keys never got stuck uno marko per stroke five 'undred per bit of etaoinshrdlu click click cliche' time measured by degrees in fractual sym-metry wit' bio me Tumeric kicks in, eases the swelling of the bubble. Imagine the imaginings of a child reading funny papers in the privy, smokin' grapevine for no known reason, or, maybe it appeased the flies, while I sat upon the throne in a tower of my own wandering through memories of Terry and the Pirates saving Dalai Lama from the clutches of the abomb-in-abled snowman, Yet-i isis now, the Prince of Persia, once more? No, this battle is not mine. This war was won; at that crossroad in Perry's Cafe when the offer was made: star a footnote here aster-risks have not been invented... we must reduce opacity. histoical he refused the deal but  did Write the course "The Internet in One Day" work for hire, a good gig, then Netscape went public, reality validated verification of the efficacy of Feynman's reversible NAND gates, the future was super positioned No taxes, tarriffs or tithes; pay flat twenty percent for eighty in return, guaranteed in for by of we, the people's adaptation to Paredo's Principle versed in Solomonic Wisdom, re-de-clearing no non new things under the sun, trial by total emersion in a sea of green sans yellah submarine, acid etched re collectibles dust and debris, flotsam jetsome wetsome old girls dream it's now, the future, 2019, and some of us survived the seventies in hiding, we're back. wee voices you ignore at your peril, not every inspiration is from for by good. Some are. Some words live in the sounds they make, hocus pocus abra cadabra, for instance... is heard by children as the leaven-less wafer transmogrifates at the spoken words Hoc es Corpus Genutim, non factum magic thinking is nothing like what you thought, child. The message is believable, the messengers may be otherwise. EH? wad-eye-say-- eee- eh? Self-evidence is acceptible, take a hold, get agrippa comprehension sweet-almost persuasive enough to mask the bitter ever after taste of century eggs left in the fridge too long Biome, bio-me, self-effident-icacious conch-ious ness, ac knowledged... these words lived once, the eggish-isms egging us on, go on, only you... not me, I'll wait I've slipped, I've fallen... where's the beef? Was this a common quest? 1972. Sheizbomb, pirate orange sunshine. 1973. We reached escape velocity 1974. Trajectory changed 1975. Lost contact, she's near Cuyguna 1976. Prego 1977. Aha, the reason is born Future 2019 will seem as real as you may imagine. I promise, Ever after, all, as real as you may imagine. I promise look, see self evident truth, act asif you know and understand angel talk there remains a rest for the cadabre we inhabit, "Dancing Queen" "Fernando" Abba's body of disco hits, missed by missing one decade and a half, in sanct-if-ication vacation to become a hermit when I grew old, if ever, hoc corpus, eh, as long as faith remains rememe-r-able post Sini-ification of Suffering, (the Dragon from the East is not the beast embodied in the west with golden head, silver breast, brazen ***** iron legs and flaking rusting feet of steel stuck in sludge ponds and stump ponds and undrained swamps and sloughs {called wet lands by frogs and ducks}) Ah, so The golden-green-blue dragons gracing slotmachines, lure hopers to the slime, not green Nickleodean slime, real slime from century eggs white jelly gone dark, dark brown and stinky... even if i'd tried, I'd never have imagined eating a century egg sans chewing, just gulp swallow it whole. Din't choke gk kg. deja vu? no, you missed something. waiting is being Dalai Lama, half-scientist, half-otherwise aware there, in exile, remains hoping a peace past standing under the acknowledging of good and evil, new mercies on one side, meaculpa, mea maxima culpa, on the other. Who pays? Me or Jesu or the pariah one step up from a cockroach? Wait and see. Be still. Don't ask Mother Teresa, she had no clue. But she finished what she began, that was her plan, skip as much purgatory as abody can stand imagining worth it all. Me, says the hermit, I took the grace Noah found. Wait and see. Get ready. Google translate the Latin Mass, then imagine it being a message you must hearken to drum drumm drummmed into your brain before your prefrontal cortextual tester circuits formed and your responses were ever etched on the tables of your faith belivin' childheart, sweetheart, just think, what if good news gathering is even-jelly-if I can. Evangelical, if I say-tion sugar pi, event-tually we see, fine, details, points to every true story a bed of nails no liar may rest upon 'fi say so, semper fi. {evangelicum laude graduates bher no bad news in ever} --phi beta kappa, key that opens what?-- do you know what meaning signals breathe? beat? Take great gulping gasps of air, affording your self evident right to surface, as a bubble you can breathe in. I think we're alone now there doesn't seem to be any one around, now 1977, that was four whole decades ago? Right. And whenever you are, dear reader, this was ever ago. I testify, I examined this life. It has been worth the effort. Now I wait. Still. Try it. Here, there, no condemnation, the act it self just is null-ift before asif goes whatif and we lose our value, we balance madness. We work closely with Cleo, she handles historical re visioning. time out-- essential term screams for discretion, get to the grain--- What noise is this... mmmmm Muse- muse- just, muse like music, drummm drummm hummmmm Define, fine, granularity, like salt or sand or sugar but qualia mysterium familiarus Term definition. Lord means h'laf weardan, {Welsh} warden, protector of our bread, by which man does not live alone, owner of the tower in the vinyard where your captive enemies languish in your wishless hate. We wait, we companions be, joined by the leaven from the sky leaving footprints in granulated sugar salted sand, feel it, sorta sticky, like toe-jam. like mebbe toejam spreader and the Walrus was CS Lewis level mere signposts at degrees of little thinker steps tick tic tic spiraling clock wise from up, counter-clockwise from down forward, ever onward, off is impossible in the land of on, here for ever is too much good stuff, but that lasts (to the same level of qualia judgment degree) mere mortal moments flash. Here we be, wondering and wandering, to an fro, to get a feel, for real. This can't go on for ever, they say. Shall we see, I say... as I passed away. Life goes on, and no lie follows Listen, it's finished, that's all we need say. Live on. Be good, or die trying. No lying about anything. What if ever did begin and you simply failed to be aware?
Continue reading...
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In dreams I create marvels palaces, castles, mansions, and epic worlds populated with people, places, things especially you, my forever girl I know it may only last a moment and yet, seem an eternity all the words and thoughts spoken that I can't speak, in reality You didn't mean to leave it wasn't your choice or mine I know, I'll see you heaven when it's finally my time Every night I go there to create, peruse, and submit waking up in tears, at midnight emotions, are sneaky little gits
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Mar 22, 2017
Mar 22, 2017 at 8:35 AM UTC
Forever girl
*You are my forever, You're the dancer in my heart & the air I take... You are my forever You're the mist off the ocean & the salt in my sweat... You are my forever, You're the cries of my passion & the sweetness in my dreams... You are my forever, You're the laughter in my tears & the quencher of my fears... I could continue, but for now this is all until I get back on my PC & my thoughts once more overflows with words of eternal love-- like my soul does for YOU* **FOREVER ** Always Me Ayeshah ® Copyright 1977 - Present © K.A.C.L.N © All right reserved ®
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May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 11:32 PM UTC
FOREVER