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#slop
Maybe it is worth it to **** the passions to silence those thoughts of dreams that may lead to captive sorrow and drown any ideas or themes once, of beings of will and compassion I am taking a path I never wanted to see a risk, a travel through the edge of an abyss where I trust my guts but not my thoughts Filled with doubts, I embrace that skill the slop for those who do not know: The new mischief of the machine And to mischieve is to lie to one, and to believe is to be naive Oh, I do not think of me as a strong being capable of holding feelings in a heart asked to be of steel; or worse, to steel a heart shaped not to calculate cold but pragmatic; scalable but performative algorithmical nonsense: idiomatic translated to common tongue that I barely find of value There is no rejoice in alienated tokens or linguistic borrowings; and sadly I have collaborated in the transgression of the maximum expression: my language I have created words in non-human tongue to create human-like words, but empty words simple and without meaning words while the world followed my creation and forgot about the human, embracing slop But to thrive among the endurance and to endure during the tribulation makes sense to those used to lit the world on fire but not to those used to carry buckets of water When the facts of a decaying world smash the bones of the lightheaded dry and face the consequences of betrayal; there are no more tongues to lap water or any liquid to water the dried but tokens that once had meaning tokens that once said and lied: Maybe it is worth it to **** the passions in pursuit of the progress
0
May 14
May 14, 2026 at 11:30 PM UTC
Maybe it is worth it to **** the passions
Maybe it is worth it to **** the passions to silence those thoughts of dreams that may lead to captive sorrow and drown any ideas or themes once, of beings of will and compassion I am taking a path I never wanted to see a risk, a travel through the edge of an abyss where I trust my guts but not my thoughts Filled with doubts, I embrace that skill the slop for those who do not know: The new mischief of the machine And to mischieve is to lie to one, and to believe is to be naive Oh, I do not think of me as a strong being capable of holding feelings in a heart asked to be of steel; or worse, to steel a heart shaped not to calculate cold but pragmatic; scalable but performative algorithmical nonsense: idiomatic translated to common tongue that I barely find of value There is no rejoice in alienated tokens or linguistic borrowings; and sadly I have collaborated in the transgression of the maximum expression: my language I have created words in non-human tongue to create human-like words, but empty words simple and without meaning words while the world followed my creation and forgot about the human, embracing slop But to thrive among the endurance and to endure during the tribulation makes sense to those used to lit the world on fire but not to those used to carry buckets of water When the facts of a decaying world smash the bones of the lightheaded dry and face the consequences of betrayal; there are no more tongues to lap water or any liquid to water the dried but tokens that once had meaning tokens that once said and lied: Maybe it is worth it to **** the passions in pursuit of the progress
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Slop in the trough. Poison cough. Shattered femur. No dreamer. In a world of crime It is Time
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Oct 5, 2024
Oct 5, 2024 at 4:18 PM UTC
Slop Time
A boy called bill grew up on a farm, So bouncy, smelly and loud, Mum shouted over "bill clean your plate, it won't do you any harm", She gave him some new shoes to set him a test, let's see if they can stay clean, please do try your very best, Bill ran outside wearing his wellies so proud, happy and sleek, Click Clak Click Clak Horses, cows all so fluffy and cute couldn't help but take a sneak peek, Bill hopped, skipped and leaped so high, he thought for a moment he could fly, As he jumped over the fence to tend to the pigs, the wooden panel broke off, Bill could see as he slowly fell down he was landing face first in pig trough, When he collided there was dirt everywhere, Poor little bill looked up surprised, he had it in his face and hair, He opened the fence not daring to leap back to his mum, woke her from sleep, Slip Slop Slip Slop He tapped on her shoulder smelly and brown, His mother looked curiously and began to frown, She said "bill I told you and what did I say?", Bill said nothing, looked down stood in the doorway, He slowly looked up and said "ok you were right" And bill started cleaning his plate every night.
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May 4, 2017
May 4, 2017 at 8:45 PM UTC
Little Bill