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#laptop
That was before you wanted to do anything with us. That was before I trusted you. That was before I trusted anyone. That was before I trusted myself. That was when I only trusted the glow of my laptop in an empty room.
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Aug 9, 2025
Aug 9, 2025 at 4:12 AM UTC
That was before
Work left office And came right at home, the hours don't start And the calls don't end. The laptop glued to my hand, My eyes burning with the screen No more commute, no sun I miss those cafeteria tables. Feasting on every snack, No time for lunch and dinner I don't even leave my bed Typing away my life.
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Mar 25, 2020
Mar 25, 2020 at 4:00 PM UTC
Work From Home
Commands were necessary for alphabets and numeric to dance.
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Nov 8, 2019
Nov 8, 2019 at 3:15 AM UTC
Why Commands?
Open up to me Slowly Like apps awakening Feed me bits of you in colorful rhymes and pictures Fill me with the files of your life Even the ones titled miscellaneous Even the ones titled don’t open unless an emergency Even the ones that are hidden far back in the files of other files Be my meme My posting in the morning to remind me I am the only one Send me kisses Real ones That look like the kinds you see in movie gifs Let us be each others laptop of loves learning
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May 21, 2019
May 21, 2019 at 10:56 PM UTC
Loves Laptop
There are things called chromebooks, and they are like laptops but they have one small difference, they can fit in your bag, they can run offline, they can by used by schools, they can be monitored, they are cool they are lightweight they are good-looking and most of all they are fun to use
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Mar 27, 2019
Mar 27, 2019 at 5:26 AM UTC
Chromebooks
sitting in a coffee shop a man is grinning while he stares at his laptop the light from the screen reflects off his glasses and his eyes are great white orbs and he smiles and smiles and all I can think is that I will never hear you sing again
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Oct 7, 2018
Oct 7, 2018 at 4:53 PM UTC
doya gao
A portal to another world, glass so thick that I'm unsure I'll ever pass through. There you dwell, constant and incredible, so close to me, so far from you. This window, often changing, goes with me on my journeys. In size and shape it varies- but you remain steadfast, insane, beautiful. Still, what I wouldn't give to pass through that teasing threshold and into your warm and waiting arms.
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Oct 6, 2018
Oct 6, 2018 at 3:04 PM UTC
A Window
Let bygones be bygones, Don’t want to be an icon, I’d rather make time For the things that are vital I’ve been running on fumes How I love her perfumes Kiss her on the neck, Tell her about the brand new Views Don’t get it confused The apartment’s empty And I’ve been on a journey The voices getting blurry The love has probably perished The moments that we cherish Forever as a memory, but I’m losing track, I woke up early mornin’ Covered in sweat Oh, I got a smartphone, I’m so fond of that But nobody calls me And nobody texts The laptop’s always on I never turn it off That artificial light Always has to glow; Counting hours till the dawn And the time is moving slow I’m forever getting bored And my interests become torn But thats the simplicity, though Thats the simplicity, though Is the simplicity better I don’t know, You ask me where I’m headed, I don’t know.
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Aug 29, 2018
Aug 29, 2018 at 8:11 AM UTC
Bygones
My fingers flit over the keys, Possessed by a mind of their own. The smooth plastic of the letters, The small bumps on F and J, The overused comma key, All are alive. The laptop understands me, it’s an Extension of my fingers. Without trying, my thoughts flow, Gracefully, effortlessly, tirelessly, they flow. The harsh light of the screen produces an Almost alien-like glow, shrouding my face In unnatural radiance, leaving it flushed. Yet the darkness of the room is all around me, The stillness of my surroundings haunts me. I am the only thing alive, The only thing still awake at this ghastly hour. I know if I shut down, turn off the glow, I will be left alone in this gloominess. The computer makes me feel wanted, Secure, safe, protected. I must get my words out, I must tell the world What I’m feeling, what I’m thinking, what I am. Before the world turns to darkness...
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Apr 25, 2018
Apr 25, 2018 at 11:40 AM UTC
Darkness
My complex brain keeps me thinking deeply For hours it keeps spitting **** perpetually. I think outside the box and write always, look at things in 3D and cross the streets sideways. This is the universe at work in another way. Maybe I'm being rewarded, if I may, For the countless hours put into thinking About a fraction of mankind's problems. And the thoughts about seeking answers to questions, That will someday bring a resolution to our problems, For the universal betterment and the good of mankind. Maybe I'm a product of some social and scientific Or intellectual experiments or the combination of all three. All that was yesterday, when I was something else If I was ever made a saint then for my past good deeds, I have no recollection of what transpired down those dark Corridors of the part of the multiverse I came from. So, if I ever did some positive things in my past life, Kudos to that mass or ball of energy I once was. Today, maybe I'm just one idiot with a laptop Who has time to write things some people may deem obnoxious, senseless and otherwise incomprehensible? Maybe I'm an outlet for deep thoughts And a vessel of wisdom for some people. Through perseverance and the little time, I have on hand, I have helped save lotta folks some precious time In coming to acknowledge the reality of our time. Thus, making it easier for them to see, That things are messed up and that despite this, hope looms!
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Mar 10, 2018
Mar 10, 2018 at 9:31 PM UTC
The Idiot With Time And A Laptop
sitting in a coffee shop a man is grinning while he stares at his laptop the light from the screen reflects off his glasses and his eyes are great white orbs and he smiles and smiles and all I can think is that I will never hear you sing again
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Dec 10, 2015
Dec 10, 2015 at 4:38 AM UTC
doya gao
The black monster, It is in my bed, I can feel it, It is warm against my leg.
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Jul 17, 2015
Jul 17, 2015 at 9:08 AM UTC
The black monster (about a laptop)
My room has five walls (and yes, I am not counting the ceiling). Wall one! It is the one with door which opens only from the inside. So you gotta knock first to get in. Advance apologies; You might not be entertained. Wall two! A window, the oldschool metaphor for freedom with its thin iron grills and a broken pane now serves ventilation purpose. Wall three! Useless it may seem, but this one is the most equipped. With its big pale switch board crucified on it; This walls commands the life here. Wall four! The proof of my existence, this wall holds the old photographs with the pride of an artist. I hate looking at this wall; “Staring directly at sun may cause damage to the retina.” Wall five! This one is my favourite. I could doodle over it again and again and then hide behind the screen of my laptop. Facebook! It’s funny to think about sometimes.
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Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 4:43 AM UTC
Five walls!
You, photo sharing pop-up rhymester a one-day glory for a full-time jester? is that all you’ve got? exulting in adulation of ‘up thumb’ display painstaking toil for a chirpy convey much bother for naught go away from that evil a rectangular cage a duality so curbing too daunting to assuage surely, not asking a lot! banter a bit, out of the cage break her reckless grind a cursed double-life no cage to hide behind!    it wasn’t what she thought! mother’s day isn’t just a day it is your lifetime, borrowed moment by moment nourished and hallowed a vicarious life – don’t let it rot!
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May 12, 2015
May 12, 2015 at 8:06 AM UTC
Vicarious Life
This is all I need. The glowing screen is all I'll ever need. I don't require friends nor family. I have everything right in front of me. This wretched device that I waste my life on. It doesn't matter, I'll just continue to tap away at this keyboard. I don't care about the joy others may feel. Why should I feel anything? All of my friends lie right here. I'll just hide behind all the LOLs and :)'s. Feelings don't matter anymore. I sit alone in this dark room, with the only light being emitted from the laptop in front of me. Only the glowing screen matters now.
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Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 12:08 PM UTC
The Glowing Screen
I want to delete my history of you, but my keyboard is broken, my mouse doesn't move, and my laptop is already dead.
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Jan 2, 2015
Jan 2, 2015 at 7:35 PM UTC
Control + Z
My dog sat right next to me, Moved his legs and couldn’t stop. I assumed he had to *** And wanted to go for a walk. When I put on my tennis shoes, He got up and ran towards the door. As he did, I had Déjà vu Of myself standing on the porch. I saw my dog On my laptop. I turned the **** The door was locked. The air turned on, The lights turned off. I rang and knocked, He sat and watched. … And all this time I really thought He wanted to go for a walk.
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Oct 17, 2014
Oct 17, 2014 at 5:45 PM UTC
Locked Out
I opened up my laptop to send you a message to say I'm sorry make sure you were still gone and I realized there's nothing left to say. You're gone.
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Jul 7, 2014
Jul 7, 2014 at 9:41 PM UTC
Gone
**** you, Old Stinky Why are you so slow and old? I hate you so hard.
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Jun 20, 2014
Jun 20, 2014 at 2:10 PM UTC
Old Stinky
Today, I accidentally spoke to a stranger. Seated at the round table with my laptop, I stared at a couple speaking my language. He caught me looking, and seemed confused. I was embarrassed for staring so I explained, "I understood them- there aren't many other speakers that I know," and quickly looked back down. And the feeling of regret welled up inside me. It was far too late. I can see him staring at me, now. Burning holes into the back of my screen. For a second I thought he might have been mute. Why stare at me so hard without uttering a word? I'm not wearing anything particularly interesting. He must know that I see him in my peripherals. What if he really is mute? Maybe he needs some help? Should I look up? I can't. Why not? Because that would mean I'd have to speak more. You shouldn't have spoken at all. I was embarrassed for staring. He should be embarrassed for staring, too. I hope I didn't "speak his language." He probably isn't even looking at you. We're the only ones at this table. He keeps looking up from his book. Maybe if I look at him quickly I'll know if he's looking at the empty billboard behind me instead. I just looked up. He's looking at me. And not a word was exchanged. Now this is that much more awkward, I'll never look up again. I'll just pack my things. And never speak to strangers again. But wait... what if he knows me? What if he's waiting for me to recognize him? I don't know him, I'm sure. He won't stop staring. I close my laptop and see my motley stickers. Some with writing, some with pictures. Sigh of relief. Just my stickers. I'd look, too. Packed it away and went to class. How silly was I, just then? But I still won't speak to strangers, again.
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Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 7:25 AM UTC
Stranger's Paranoia
Today, I accidentally spoke to a stranger. Seated at the round table with my laptop, I stared at a couple speaking my language. He caught me looking, and seemed confused. I was embarrassed for staring so I explained, "I understood them- there aren't many other speakers that I know," and quickly looked back down. And the feeling of regret welled up inside me. It was far too late. I can see him staring at me, now. Burning holes into the back of my screen. For a second I thought he might have been mute. Why stare at me so hard without uttering a word? I'm not wearing anything particularly interesting. He must know that I see him in my peripherals. What if he really is mute? Maybe he needs some help? Should I look up? I can't. Why not? Because that would mean I'd have to speak more. You shouldn't have spoken at all. I was embarrassed for staring. He should be embarrassed for staring, too. I hope I didn't "speak his language." He probably isn't even looking at you. We're the only ones at this table. He keeps looking up from his book. Maybe if I look at him quickly I'll know if he's looking at the empty billboard behind me instead. I just looked up. He's looking at me. And not a word was exchanged. Now this is that much more awkward, I'll never look up again. I'll just pack my things. And never speak to strangers again. But wait... what if he knows me? What if he's waiting for me to recognize him? I don't know him, I'm sure. He won't stop staring. I close my laptop and see my motley stickers. Some with writing, some with pictures. Sigh of relief. Just my stickers. I'd look, too. Packed it away and went to class. How silly was I, just then? But I still won't speak to strangers, again.
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