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#indolence
There once was a Volton from Venus Who played all day long with his squenus: When they said, "Get a job You lascivious slob!" He gave 'em a piece of his genus.
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Feb 23
Feb 23, 2026 at 6:58 PM UTC
Squenus
the joyful indolence of a summer's day, the siesta lull which wakes to a slow pushbike ride, or momentary lapses into conversation under the shade of the banyan tree
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Apr 6, 2016
Apr 6, 2016 at 4:19 PM UTC
Siesta
You say you’ll give me everything But all I get from you Is a lot of promises And kitchy kitchy koo. You said I’d get a diamond ring Before the week was through. Then you said you lost your job And wanted kitchy koo. The washing machine No longer works And neither do you. I wish I was exaggerating, But every word is true. All I get to look forward to Is kitchy Kitchy Koo. Kitchy kitchy koo When it all begins. It’s a lot of fun till when All the kitchy koo ends You best start out as friends. Our love life is super hot But there are other things to do. Life involves so much more Than kitchy kitchy koo. Groceries and cleaning matter Though not that much to you. It’s too bad you don’t get paid For kitchy kitchy koo. I never thought I would complain About making love with you. It isn’t that part that bothers me So, let me drop the other shoe. There are seven days every week And things we adults must do. And only a tiny percent of that Involves kitchy kitchy koo. Kitchy kitchy koo It’s a catchy rhyme Just have fun all the time. When the kitchy koo ends We may just part as friends.
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Feb 12, 2016
Feb 12, 2016 at 11:03 PM UTC
KITCHY KITCHY KOO
There’s too much air to breathe here. A swirling mass of emptiness heaves through the crowd’s lungs. Stop. Won’t everyone just god **** Someone sings at the bus stop just outside my window. Wires hum, ignoring the melody that person has so carefully constructed. A hiss. Rising steam. An abrupt end. Another listless night. A beetle flies in through my open window. It takes me twenty minutes to help it back out. I think about wandering the forest. But am too scared to confront loneliness, and the frailty of human existence. There is a gap forming already. Here. A dialectic that seeks to sublate my very identity. Subsume those closest to me. Until I am completely alone. There is a bush down the street which is in bloom right now. I think the sun is too hot. The flowers are wilted. And the pavement is littered with dead bees. Voices. An exchange. A language game. Two horizons meet, merge, melt. ‘Wait--’ The horizons drop. If only for a moment. And the abyss is revealed. The only universal in this world is that we are all alone. Trapped in our own understanding. Forever interpreting one another. I am waiting for the day the wind carries me out the window. Perhaps it will never come. Perhaps I will live a long boring life amongst friends, family, and all those people I despise. Oh well. No point, either way.
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Jan 21, 2016
Jan 21, 2016 at 8:40 AM UTC
my mind is a haze of indistinct thoughts that fail to coalesce into speech
It is time to wake up from the languid daydreams that once I treasured so. The place that used to be a haven, an escape from life’s banality, now feels like a gilded cage. The mind wanders, untethered, through sunlit corridors of indolence pushing to see how far it can go. Tantalizing me with possibilities, never reality, this limbo is only good for the occasional vacation.
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Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 10:06 AM UTC
Daydreams
Another beautiful crisis brightens Sunday's morning news and waking refreshed ... as if I still decide on a sleepless-in possibilities dissipating with ease into golden rays of early afternoon zero balance cloud there are old friends to still not write to projects to incomplete abound ***** ones that I particularly hate a few small fixes around the house I need to leave for another week neglected strawberries in the fridge which have grown plump and rich grey beards overnight that merge the scent of expired fires on the beach and stubbed out cigarette filters I can always listen to the summer rain gurgling down the broken gutter after the inspiring insanity of the past few days it's nice to discover any kind of mental rest impossible and with all those wonderful plans happening all at once there's a special loveliness to be found discovering they're all ones I can't face then there's parties to attend ... of course ... I wish! but maybe a quick check of my email hope you're having a perfect weekend and that it's beautiful where you are —roséline xo you pain
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Jul 7, 2014
Jul 7, 2014 at 6:10 PM UTC
Sun Day Clods
Indolence always gets the best of me I feel like a jab painting images without metaphors, avoiding the intense visions of the lot Indifferent, inebriated. All demons slayed. Spread eagle. Life seems to be a hassle, in two ways on the same street I am the attention ***** who wants to be left alone Pushing them back only draws them closer Today is no different, a muse, a good laugh, a realization my schedule is full again. I just want to spend my time anything else lacks luster Goal: (noun) 1. aim, 2. end, 3. target, 4. purpose, 5. intention, 6. objective, 7. ambition, I have none. You can't force me, try as you may. What does pique my interest is art If I ever get over self indulgence, which I will market emphatically, I may consider starting a career Controversies are fun, so is ****** to balance them both in one hand and collect with the other that is art. Form, the world has never seen. Abstract ambiguity rewriting itself. Displeasing parents and loved ones around. The one the perverts idolize the critics would bow in awe to Ah yes... I feel so lazy.
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Apr 14, 2014
Apr 14, 2014 at 4:55 AM UTC
Of art and articulation
This sore saviour keeps a straight-faced stare Lips pressed tight, tongue wedged in teeth While watching indolence twist in haste To reach the next refuge Revulsion that we two symbols share That same motion-sickness fear One of action, the other of consequence Or lack thereof; without / within
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Oct 4, 2013
Oct 4, 2013 at 7:37 AM UTC
a gap in thought, attention.