#stimulus
I'm just waiting for that check to come.
The world is burning but I feel numb.
TV is awesome and outside is dumb.
So I'm sitting here waiting for my check to come.
I'm holding my breath when I go to the store
And they're still out of paper, like the 5 times before.
But when that check hits, it's ******* galore.
I'll buy it all wholesale, it'll be a big score.
Just a few weeks til I get that sweet cash
Then it's Amazon Prime, Grub Hub and DoorDash.
I'm sure that this plague will be done in a flash
And we'll go back to life with our fat wads of cash.
So I'll sit on my sofa and watch the train wreck.
In my fortress of Lysol and standard-grade tech.
With my *** getting bigger and pain in my neck
Waiting patiently here for my stimulus check.
Jul 20, 2020
Jul 20, 2020 at 5:23 PM UTC
Choosing doesn’t matter much as choosing to be a somebody, would matter… If not for the totality that is the whole (“trying bit”). Trying is like the ultimate reaction time! Not because it has anything to do with choosing something whether or not it’s good or bad, whilst (choosing doesn’t matter) could actually benefit your own (trying phase) into a (somehow) newer light. Why you may ask of this very detail that seems to not shed any more “obvious” light to what’s already been the most obvious of ideals chosen to be the main majority of facts by today's standards…? Well it completely doesn’t. As it entirely does, also. You see both choosing to do something whilst (trying to simply do that very thing) aren’t the same by ANY standards. As their both each other’s direct counterparts! Given standards for a given achieving rate. None will cause you to trade ideal for fact towards choosing over trying. Simply because if choosing doesn’t matter one bit… It’s also fair to say that trying is the ultimate reaction time, because choosing doesn’t matter. Trying is closer to a stimulus. Whilst choosing is closer to a response. A stimulus is better described as being incredibly instinctive. Where you have NO motion, except for what your mind feels when constantly being pulled in so many directions it doesn’t know which way to advise itself otherwise. Commonly being used as a “deterrent for disaster” when being controlled by the very thing it’s meant to control. A response however, is nothing without its stimulus to direct the trigger that at which made you react towards firstly. Warping your very bodies need to get wrapped up into itself. (More direct artificial stimulus rises and falls confusing the bodies signals…which politely anyways sends back to the mind safely.) Threatening to shower even more reactions down on itself from the literal inside out! Nevertheless, this was good for the mind. Gave it some closure as the “god of your own body”! Mind could personally get back at the body for pulling it into thinking it was the god! When truthfully, it was simply the deprived mortal acting as the constant, repeating, signalling pack mule! Hast to know its place after all… Am I right…?! The mind said, confident in its very words. All because the body reacted to something it inadvertently forced the mind into thinking it was being pulled around in so many directions, it didn’t know how to otherwise order its entire counterpart to simply halt! Simply by saying…STOP! However, you must know by now in today's age, that when something is amiss, you don’t simply surrender lightly. Especially when it doesn’t feel right. You ALWAYS listen to when something doesn’t FEEL…RIGHT! Am I right…?!
Jul 17, 2020
Jul 17, 2020 at 3:06 PM UTC
It's not that everyone is happier with money.
It's that everyone would Always be this happy,
if money wasn't a factor at all...
Apr 29, 2020
Apr 29, 2020 at 4:59 AM UTC
In you
I could see
Something divine
Something close to magic
Something beyond words
Whole life
I could be thankful for
Keeping alive
The writer in me
Namaste
Apr 18, 2019
Apr 18, 2019 at 5:19 AM UTC
Lines like a laxative for tongues,
The individual pieces become greater than its sum,
Summer time therapy dialing up in increments,
Wouldn't know the difference between the butterflies and chrysalis.
Syzygy in spirit as sympathy in the impetus,
Synergy in serendipity makes symmetry seem ubiquitous.
Flummoxed, I fell face first flying into fellowship,
Feeling fusion in the furrows of my fingertips,
Figure this, mistigris, implement mirrors for the synthesis,
Taking root in the underground,
This is censorship on stimulus.
Kaizen from the get-go,
How did silence ever get gold?
Climate of the biome discernible by petrichor,
Some of my greatest allies are people I've never even met before.
Mumpsimus with metaphors, metatron or metamorph,
A mess of Mesozoic memoirs drowning in a reservoir,
Reserve my right to write a mire of a message board,
Desire an empire of satire to conquest; explore,
Buyers, sellers, best befores,
Crying out to be adored,
The expiration estimation rivals rivals' primal repertoires.
Rhymes like mycelium, climbing up the parapets,
Embrangled mosaics interceding abstract arabesque.
Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 5:48 AM UTC
She endeavor sentimentally to enliven chocolate
till we're both finally in a rotunda as sweet
and intuitively match with just a Hershey's kiss
while a distraction is like something on screen
with their soundtrack and film avant-garde today.
Aug 22, 2017
Aug 22, 2017 at 3:25 PM UTC
Did you wander the fields the way I did?
Tell the stories that I told?
Ask the questions I never thought to ask?
Were you scared of the dark the way I am?
Did you also dream of a life you could live for yourself?
Did you fight those last few days?
Did you know if your predicament?
Were you as angry at the world as I still am?
Were your questions ever answered?
Did you accomplish anything at all?
Were you able to make the decisions you wanted?
Do you still look over us today?
Jul 3, 2017
Jul 3, 2017 at 2:15 PM UTC
Chiseled slightly, drained from colour.
Bones now just imitations of life, these remains left forgotten.
Realisation that it can all end so easily, your existence left insignificant.
Known more for it's death than it's eight years of life.
Sudden change changes everything, comes unannounced, death forces you to comply, to conform.
To make the illusion of your short lived life worth something.
Pieced together in a haphazard puzzle, never explained.
It's true story left unknown.
Jul 3, 2017
Jul 3, 2017 at 2:13 PM UTC
From the alluring meadows of plants,
and the enchanting wonders that encompass it.
Each organism unique,
none as much as even bleak.
As we grow and split,
cell by cell.
Animals grow with development,
Autotrophs harness sunlight,
and breathe in food.
An unknown stimuli,
compromising all we'll know.
Leaving animals free of their golden glow.
Their response will soon show,
animals in exile from their once snug homes.
Apr 15, 2017
Apr 15, 2017 at 8:24 PM UTC
As I know her from the longest time,
I know that under external influence,
She did all the stuff she did not wish.
As she is not interested in me anymore,
I thank her for being my inspiration,
She was indeed a truly youthful lover..
As with all good things so with her love,
I could not monitor her for 24 hours,
She listened to God knows whomsoever.
All I infer from the relation's demise,
Is that she listened to the negative people,
So closely spread in her surroundings.
All I can wish for her advising party,
Is that they may suffer the same fate,
So similar to mine their outcome be.
Oct 23, 2016
Oct 23, 2016 at 8:45 PM UTC
There is a hum
That hears not me
But it.
The very reflection of itself
Ever present
Vibrant.
Buzzing
-It rings
A zing, to the
Past present and future
Its connected.
Reminding me to nurture,
Release.
Dont break the hum
Embrace it
So it doesnt drone on
Rather, the particles bond
Dont diffuse it
For it is music
It is The background to this rhetoric
And the catalyst serving as my outlet
Usurping my pouting fit
Cant let this be a nuissance
But rather serve me in this instance
For im set to fix
This mess thats got me in a twist
May i recognize the circumstances
That can help me ground this
Body ive been given to walk around in.
And so i hear the hum
That hears not it
So i can be here this very moment
In a blissful state
Instead of discord and dissonance.
Jul 18, 2016
Jul 18, 2016 at 5:59 PM UTC
As I close my laptop
and it snaps shut
my dog sits up
ears perked,
chest puffed, and
at the ready for
me to stand up
and grab a leash
and a plastic bag
for his ****
And he knows this routine
because it has been seared
into his brain with the white-hot
branding iron
of repetition.
A force of nature.
A category-five hurricane.
We laugh at them
for chasing their tails
when the microwave dings,
for salivating at bells,
but
I am no better than they are.
The same routines
are seared into my brain, too—
stimulus, response
stimulus, response
eat, sleep, **** walk, ****
love, reproduce, etc.
and I will continue to do so
aimlessly
just like Ivan Pavlov said I would.
One day I’ll find myself
like he’ll find himself—
lying on a cold slab
in a sterile room
only half alive
aghast at how quickly youth slipped away
but otherwise numb
as loved ones circle around,
hands over their mouths,
horrified
to press the button.
Mar 14, 2015
Mar 14, 2015 at 2:38 AM UTC
Oh twisted stimulus,
****** of the soul,
you flood me with colour.
I spill out across the world,
being everywhere,
existing nowhere.
Once I've emptied,
I am void.
Incorporeal and numb.
Like mist in gale,
I am rushed,
into endless sky.
Notorious chemical,
beautiful chemist,
I am lost in your constellation.
Oct 20, 2014
Oct 20, 2014 at 7:18 PM UTC