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#pathological
a pernicious old troll with restless fingers     and maybe also a mouse still haunts the White House for his last days in office he spooks out of all bounds sends millions into poverty destroys protected grounds obstructs where he can desperate not to lose fans     from his base that still dream     that he won an election he tries to make it seem      like he still is in power but many have gone sour there is talk of defection and crumbling are formerly supportive actions yet he still claims he’s won fires those who don’t agree is unable to see that his time is gone
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Dec 29, 2020
Dec 29, 2020 at 5:18 PM UTC
still trolling
Make up ******** You always do Is there a sliver of hesitation when the colorful stories you animate roll off your tongue like hot butter melting across a frying pan? You alone have this mystical ability with words Spinning ordinary Innocent Letters with sick deranged threads Vindictive deception But don't even realize you're doing it It is remarkable
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Nov 25, 2020
Nov 25, 2020 at 6:20 AM UTC
Pathological Liar
I've been wondering since the moment you left What those feelings that I had meant Did they have a name and was I to blame Why I felt that way and how to make it go away I know now that it was never my fault You hold all the blame and I curse your very name I feel betrayal pull itself through my being As the word leaves my lips in a whisper How could I ever love someone who mistook discomfort for fun? How could I trust someone who's eyes wandered as they were with me? How could I think he loved me when even after a year his closest friends did not know me? It didn't register to me that I was angry or that I was sad I thought we parted on mutual terms But you weren't satisfied by my lack of suffering So you came back to make it clear that no part of you is capable trusting All you've ever told me All the "I love you's" All the "You're my world's" Hidden inside every word Was a lie
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Sep 2, 2018
Sep 2, 2018 at 12:38 AM UTC
Pathological liar
I cried sleeping, thinking I did you wrong; but woke up smiling, realising you never did me right.
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Mar 10, 2018
Mar 10, 2018 at 12:03 PM UTC
realisation
He worships at the shrine of capitalism prays for a better fiscal quarter with money spent in shopping malls, a scrambling search for off-the-rack meaning through blessèd, holy consumerism. He gives thanks to this, our daily microwave meal, while he mutters under his breath, “What be the will of these, our stock-market Algorithms?" He listens to sermons from business and econ profs preaching from the higher-education steeples, teaching students gathering like stampede sheeples, reaching for a measure of worth in semester-long bursts a silent choir scribbling in exam halls to petty praise, leaving them burned out, and crying on the bathroom floor, lights out, itching for a wink amidst insect hallucinations adrenaline rushed from Dexadrine or Adderall dissociation flushed from ketamine or alcohol asking, “What is wrong with me?” Seeking answers, he pays weekly penance to shrinks a confessional of mental disorders from the Gospel of DSM: “Forgive me, Doctor, for I have sinned. It has been seven days since my last confession. I’m obsessive, I’m depressive, antisocial personality, ADD or ADHD, I’m poor as I ever was and ever will be, I’m no service to society, I'm squandered in sobriety, but please keep my hands tied in these shackles of student debt!” And his only act of contrition is a medical prescription made sweeter to swallow at communion than the blood and body of Christ. Welcome, the new order! Welcome, the New Religion (TM)! Pray it will be a better one than what we left behind.
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Mar 23, 2017
Mar 23, 2017 at 12:24 AM UTC
The New Religion
He worships at the shrine of capitalism prays for a better fiscal quarter with money spent in shopping malls, a scrambling search for off-the-rack meaning through blessèd, holy consumerism. He gives thanks to this, our daily microwave meal, while he mutters under his breath, “What be the will of these, our stock-market Algorithms?" He listens to sermons from business and econ profs preaching from the higher-education steeples, teaching students gathering like stampede sheeples, reaching for a measure of worth in semester-long bursts a silent choir scribbling in exam halls to petty praise, leaving them burned out, and crying on the bathroom floor, lights out, itching for a wink amidst insect hallucinations adrenaline rushed from Dexadrine or Adderall dissociation flushed from ketamine or alcohol asking, “What is wrong with me?” Seeking answers, he pays weekly penance to shrinks a confessional of mental disorders from the Gospel of DSM: “Forgive me, Doctor, for I have sinned. It has been seven days since my last confession. I’m obsessive, I’m depressive, antisocial personality, ADD or ADHD, I’m poor as I ever was and ever will be, I’m no service to society, I'm squandered in sobriety, but please keep my hands tied in these shackles of student debt!” And his only act of contrition is a medical prescription made sweeter to swallow at communion than the blood and body of Christ. Welcome, the new order! Welcome, the New Religion (TM)! Pray it will be a better one than what we left behind.
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Yes you are certainly truly; the forever blameless you. Not blanched, scared or blemished. Proudly sweep on through, the disease and disaster. here are you: the auteur ,actor, written, and right. demonstratively a demon on a wreck and toll. A shits-shaper of reality, Casting a shadow of blight.
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Jun 30, 2016
Jun 30, 2016 at 11:04 PM UTC
Blameless you
Take a shot when you say something quick To avoid repeating past trauma. Take a shot every time you get sick over this big web of lies that you've spun up. Take two when you say it without thinking at all and don't realize for hours later. Take two when the shame of it creeps up your neck and you want it to leave but it lingers. Three for the white lies and pity plays, Three for the guilt that you feel. Four when you've said it all so many times That you're never quite sure what IS real.
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May 5, 2016
May 5, 2016 at 12:26 AM UTC
Pathological Liar's Drinking Game.
To lie or not to lie - that is the question: Whether 'tis better to keep the truth Shutting the light in the dark, Or to bring upon pain or pleasure Why, by bringing truth, gain unwanted reaction. To lie, deceit - No more - and by secret to say what we want to say The will of truth and lie That flows from lips - 'tis an infection One craved by all. To lie, deceit - Deceit, perhaps too much. Ay, there's the problem. For in that deceit of truth what pathologic lieing may come. When we have gained such filthy pleasure from this lie, Must force us thought. That's the reality That makes chaos of such pleasure. For who really wants to hear or speak an ugly truth, The lover's love gone, the child's art trash, The woman's ugly face, the man's unattractive body, The co-worker's stench, and the embarrassing blemish That gives opportunity for lie, When they themselves would appreciate Why give them heart ache? Who would give them truth, To give them hurt, But the chance they would enjoy the truth, The unknown glee from fate's unlucky victims For the victim's mind confuses the liar And makes the liar want to speak truth And to see that reaction instead. Thus turning pathologic lieing into suthe saying, And thus the addicting infection Is cured with the disease of truth, And infection seems less appealing With this regard the lies soon stop And lose what effect they once had.
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May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 6:08 PM UTC
To Lie or not to Lie - That is the Question