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#ping
if the reason for existence is no longer a thing then what?
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Sep 10, 2024
Sep 10, 2024 at 10:23 AM UTC
The Existential Angst Of A Dented Ping Pong Ball
look at the graph, he said, this line that makes a hill is the echo from your heart. who sent the first ping? a beat, a rhythm I can't decode? Next time, listen to your heart carefully.
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Jun 11, 2020
Jun 11, 2020 at 1:47 AM UTC
stress echo
We spoke, each raising voices, as verbal ping pong game continued. I sitting on an invisible Goddess throne, believing I was justified. And he, thinking with limited perspective that he could dishonor me. We spoke continuously, each trying to control discussion UNTIL, I took a breath and realized quiet was best solution. Till I realized, that it was better to walk away and tend to my life leaving scribbling to the squirrels.
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Mar 13, 2019
Mar 13, 2019 at 2:16 PM UTC
We Spoke
(a quid pro quo plug for zaftig women) women that tip weigh ling needle to spin vicious circle akin to puppy chasing her/his tail or require digital scale, at the extreme alt right registering heavy ba Jill 'en Jack knifed pail loads whether young or old ought to be appreciated not waifer thin self starved as a rail, instead they suffer unfair injustice like a trapped quivering quail thus this fatalistic, generic, and holistic landlubber wanted to point head lee hammer home one secure heterosexual ******* stronger than omnipotent Marcy's Playground weather beaten pail Trent Reznor's sixty 9 inch rust free steel nail into the coffin of bias against bevy of beautiful babes within the mind of this male, who inherited genetic predisposition for being average, hearty and hale yet feel compassion for those engaged in an ongoing with battle of the bulge, hmm... perhaps hiding ample ***** akin to milky sopping wet grail or accepted unequivocally themselves without envy of lithesome women, who seem to possess flair with nary a flail yet possess much love to avail, and tis wise to love oneself unconditionally despite premium aesthetics considered svelte which mass media accentuates de facto spelt definition of femininity aka runway models donned in faux animal pelt whose deliberate self exhibition prompts madding crowd of man to waggle tongue with slack jaws as if ready to melt or at instantaneous signal telepathically felt drop drawers upon removing blackbelt.
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Jul 14, 2018
Jul 14, 2018 at 6:03 PM UTC
Pleasingly Plump Praiseworthy Princesses
my phone pings and as I pick it up I see your messages, blurred, but there. my eyes shut as I think to myself, *I'm having trouble falling asleep...*
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Feb 4, 2017
Feb 4, 2017 at 2:19 AM UTC
blurry screen write
Ping Pong World Champ Andrew Baggaley, Wow that lad can really play. Dethroned the “King” who came from Russia, Then 1966d that kid from somewhere near Prussia.
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Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 10:49 AM UTC
Andrew Baggaley (Clerihew)
My Heartbeat is like "Sonar" Each beat radiates out, "Penetrates" The surroundings It pings of others beats, Repelled back to mine, Secrets revealed within each beat Friend, Foe, Hater, Lover, Each has its own reply, With each beat I release An essence of those who are Looking, Wishing, Smiling, Upon a look, each replying As beats fasten, Knowing the Sonar has Penetrated deep within each , Showing there feelings, That each beat echoes out to there hearts.
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Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 4:46 PM UTC
Each Beat Radiates Out
Oh paddle, oh paddle, where could thou be? You've shown me a place, Where not my eyes, could see, You've become a place, a part of my soul, You're the key to a puzzle, One that makes me whole, A material of my passion, thou takes't a hold, Without you I am feeble, Skills less than bold, 100's of matches, you've helped me win, Now without you, again I must begin, To move on, is something I must do, Sad to see you go, I must bid you adieu, Playing without you, will never be the same, No matter how many times people may tell me, Our time together was more than just a game.
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Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 9:29 AM UTC
Dear Paddle