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#huxley
Maybe someday people will speak of a great group of logical poets. It will be a group though. Maybe a help group for the more fragile ones. Not the type of fragile you are...the type that breaks. Carry on army, and tend to your fellow army members' wounds. Maybe someday you will see that you have fake bullets. Fully automatic, with hollow points and full metal jackets You like my poem, then i'll like yours we don't have to call it reading even if yours could heal my sores mine would be all i'm needing i like your whole style of no style nothing to do with form or function you say it's not a one way street when i see you at every junction to be honest, it fills me with fear hitting like becoming my being then i will get roped into even more when less is all i'm seeing because this group is the real world, on a page, in cyberspace. My mind isn't real, because you can't see it, and it can't hit the like button for me. I must be as insane as you think i am. It tickles my pickle to see the same poets that pointed at me years ago writing the same exact poem over and over. Talking about writers block like it's real. I stick to my guns and my guns are automatic. If you have a block, you're not a writer. You are still used for building though. Building what you hate, building what i love. I know some are blocks of **** but they fertilize, at least. Thank you truly. If you hadn't kept putting me to sleep, i wouldn't have had so many awakenings. I do see the good, in blocks. One thing about a big block is that it gets cut into pieces, to make smaller blocks. Then you get mixed in with other blocks that you want no part of. I guess then, you and the other blocks just stand for that one building. You know...the 1 million square foot ranch. It has a basement, but no upstairs.
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Oct 12, 2021
Oct 12, 2021 at 11:04 PM UTC
Groupthink is Not a One Way Street - The other side of huxley
Maybe someday people will speak of a great group of logical poets. It will be a group though. Maybe a help group for the more fragile ones. Not the type of fragile you are...the type that breaks. Carry on army, and tend to your fellow army members' wounds. Maybe someday you will see that you have fake bullets. Fully automatic, with hollow points and full metal jackets You like my poem, then i'll like yours we don't have to call it reading even if yours could heal my sores mine would be all i'm needing i like your whole style of no style nothing to do with form or function you say it's not a one way street when i see you at every junction to be honest, it fills me with fear hitting like becoming my being then i will get roped into even more when less is all i'm seeing because this group is the real world, on a page, in cyberspace. My mind isn't real, because you can't see it, and it can't hit the like button for me. I must be as insane as you think i am. It tickles my pickle to see the same poets that pointed at me years ago writing the same exact poem over and over. Talking about writers block like it's real. I stick to my guns and my guns are automatic. If you have a block, you're not a writer. You are still used for building though. Building what you hate, building what i love. I know some are blocks of **** but they fertilize, at least. Thank you truly. If you hadn't kept putting me to sleep, i wouldn't have had so many awakenings. I do see the good, in blocks. One thing about a big block is that it gets cut into pieces, to make smaller blocks. Then you get mixed in with other blocks that you want no part of. I guess then, you and the other blocks just stand for that one building. You know...the 1 million square foot ranch. It has a basement, but no upstairs.
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private, you are to open new pathways in the north sector sir, but we found the main power and then it was gone sir, this tells me that this will happen again and again are you refusing to follow a direct order from a commanding officer? sir, no sir ok good, because we think you might have just hallucinated finding the main power, or maybe just hallucinated that it disappeared you are a fine soldier clear the enemies from your mind, and they can't shoot you yes sir! now, get in there and dig deep...find that main power and free it the whole world is depending on you that's a lot of innocent people a lot of guilty too sir private! we are only worried about the innocent when we get their power, they will take care of the guilty here are your weapons, peyote to see, mushrooms to do sir, yes sir! now get in there and clear some space! see you on the other side of consciousness soldier sir, yes sir! OORAH!
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Oct 8, 2021
Oct 8, 2021 at 3:30 PM UTC
Mushroom Soldier of Fortune(and misfortune)
Claire Gary  what "reality" are you referring to, I wonder? That the Earth is flat? And/or 6000 years old? Me My reality is that this earth is 54 years old. My exact age This really happens every time I comment on posts from the pages I follow. It just happened again. People don't even have the mentality to stay on subject. The hate is strong with most people, and the ones who say they don't hate are the deepest in the hate game. If you think this isn't poetry, I don't mind you saying. Of course a lot of people never thought of Huxley as a poet either. Look at him now though...still ahead of his time and he is dead!
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Sep 16, 2021
Sep 16, 2021 at 5:41 PM UTC
Jedi mind tricks to use on trolls
I'll take the lights out with you, baby Throw me into the wall Hear my whimpers in the hall Make me your own honey, baby Now my mind is set on you I'm all you wanna do I'll take the top Until you stop Our little game Of heat-filled passion
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Nov 18, 2019
Nov 18, 2019 at 4:31 PM UTC
Hate f--k
"The realization                                 not the knowledge, for this wasn't verbal or abstract,          but the DIRECT, TOTAL AWARENESS, from the inside, so to say, of LOVE as the primary & fundamental cosmic           FACT. I was this fact; or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that this fact occupied the place where I HAD BEEN." Aldous Huxley, English writer, died 1963. A quote respectfully, deeply so, arranged on the page by Martin B.
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Mar 25, 2017
Mar 25, 2017 at 11:37 PM UTC
L.S.D.
All 'the Man' has to do is get the ball rolling: we'll handle the rest. That's the grotesque beauty of it. That's why we're called a System.
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Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 3:25 AM UTC
System