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#virtualreality
the world is flown        and i sleep beside you wed  our mossy appetite has become cleaved                                      a sleeve running between us on this bed       a warm hum     the pores  pipe open     intimacy issues forth    traversing the gap   intelligence sliding    slack and froth             like moist candy-floss   icking and tearing our shared dream      our powerful phantom          gussy travellers        ravelling in sheets of smoky sea  grey/green misting of the memory gland gathering up dead celebrity tuning structures to our jubilee re-creation in a vibe theatre we're partners conducting our behaviour                          for a grand flotsam revelry                                           dizzed up and narcotic          no doubt ; we are unreal it is the neon hour... i flicker            feeling the rushing of your warm system          i feel weather speed over our bodies                                striping and refreshing the energy             in the oil light blinking   i see you           scar beauty over the berths' landscape            you turn the body over and illuminate the eyes           you are if to say     "plug back in to our shared motion"            "we could be imperishable"          "i cannot return without my inconsiderate spouse"           you brush my hand which fizzes                                           and i clothe my eyes            re-enter our developing potion                      within   our great mouths feed alike           our dual nature is a shared gratification   within
0
Feb 2, 2023
Feb 2, 2023 at 11:47 AM UTC
jetsam
the world is flown        and i sleep beside you wed  our mossy appetite has become cleaved                                      a sleeve running between us on this bed       a warm hum     the pores  pipe open     intimacy issues forth    traversing the gap   intelligence sliding    slack and froth             like moist candy-floss   icking and tearing our shared dream      our powerful phantom          gussy travellers        ravelling in sheets of smoky sea  grey/green misting of the memory gland gathering up dead celebrity tuning structures to our jubilee re-creation in a vibe theatre we're partners conducting our behaviour                          for a grand flotsam revelry                                           dizzed up and narcotic          no doubt ; we are unreal it is the neon hour... i flicker            feeling the rushing of your warm system          i feel weather speed over our bodies                                striping and refreshing the energy             in the oil light blinking   i see you           scar beauty over the berths' landscape            you turn the body over and illuminate the eyes           you are if to say     "plug back in to our shared motion"            "we could be imperishable"          "i cannot return without my inconsiderate spouse"           you brush my hand which fizzes                                           and i clothe my eyes            re-enter our developing potion                      within   our great mouths feed alike           our dual nature is a shared gratification   within
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36
I’m constantly risking my freedom for reasons I don’t know why I am choosing to make mistakes I shouldn’t be out of work because I lost 3 jobs in 1 month & for someone with my background that’s totally unacceptable but it’s because of drugs I became addicted to crystal **** & let it control my life I’m always going insane because I can’t stop I let it take control over my life! I’m helpless watching from the inside as the world revolves yet I’m still having complications with the dark side of the moon where I’m not accepted only playing the part by placing myself in harms way, I finally bought a car & it was so bad that I can’t show it to my family without saying something about it I don’t know what to do with my life but get high to get by I’m a felon with limited resources I wish I knew the secret to life so I wouldn’t be in the dark with the deamons I wrote a poem for her & she didn’t even want it I feel like my spirit was trying to be free & now there’s a note in my wallet I don’t wanna read it because I don’t want the emotions of the seriousness to attach to me what I need is a miracle.
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Apr 15, 2020
Apr 15, 2020 at 6:10 PM UTC
May 1st
Little screens often determine whole destinies people, places, personal items all graded together on virtual papers no one ever passes or gets high marks Faceless denizens of actual realities unidentified, but still vocal leaving words of anger in their wake all over others journals of life One person breathes in and out walking, running, sleeping eating, even laughing sometimes looking at the sky and smiling to themselves
0
Nov 9, 2019
Nov 9, 2019 at 11:36 PM UTC
Who Decides Your Life?
Romeo and Juliet Napoleon and Josephine full of love and yet regrets beyond the silver screen Here we are upon the day swiping left our telephone hoping and grasping a way not going home, alone What in this day and age millennial and such built upon the frailest edge as reality, untouched
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Feb 14, 2019
Feb 14, 2019 at 12:12 AM UTC
Valentino died
Making memories, wondering who sent for me, if it wasn’t you then who was it, and if you didn’t why are you here anyways, have man have machine, have real life have dream, were you born or were you made, there isn’t a difference or so it would seem, you don’t believe, because you’ve never seen a miracle, that’s why you **** for a fee, and why you’re always so cynical, and maybe that’s why I write, more than I do anything else, as a way of trying to jog your memory, while running up the bill, at the bar trying to wash away, things I can’t recall, in this present day dystopia, call me Jack I’ll call you Jill, getting drowsy, must be the pills, on a plane, going somewhere else, travel some much, sometimes i wake up and don’t know what country I’m in, it’s a dog eat dog world so cat naps can be dangerous, especially when you drink and drink sleep walking on Ambien, a creature with amnesia and beautiful features, how’d you become such a miracle, are you really that perfect, or is that just the way I remember you, guess it doesn’t matter either way, because maybe I don’t even remember you, maybe you’re not mine because maybe you never were, maybe nothing is mine not even the memories I have of you, maybe it’s all just programmed, by a woman behind a glass wall, maybe in the end we have the same thing we had in the beginning, which is absolutely nothing at all, making memories, wondering who sent for me, if it wasn’t you then who was it, and if you didn’t why are you here anyways… ∆ LaLux ∆
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Oct 4, 2018
Oct 4, 2018 at 2:48 PM UTC
Blade Running
Making memories, wondering who sent for me, if it wasn’t you then who was it, and if you didn’t why are you here anyways, have man have machine, have real life have dream, were you born or were you made, there isn’t a difference or so it would seem, you don’t believe, because you’ve never seen a miracle, that’s why you **** for a fee, and why you’re always so cynical, and maybe that’s why I write, more than I do anything else, as a way of trying to jog your memory, while running up the bill, at the bar trying to wash away, things I can’t recall, in this present day dystopia, call me Jack I’ll call you Jill, getting drowsy, must be the pills, on a plane, going somewhere else, travel some much, sometimes i wake up and don’t know what country I’m in, it’s a dog eat dog world so cat naps can be dangerous, especially when you drink and drink sleep walking on Ambien, a creature with amnesia and beautiful features, how’d you become such a miracle, are you really that perfect, or is that just the way I remember you, guess it doesn’t matter either way, because maybe I don’t even remember you, maybe you’re not mine because maybe you never were, maybe nothing is mine not even the memories I have of you, maybe it’s all just programmed, by a woman behind a glass wall, maybe in the end we have the same thing we had in the beginning, which is absolutely nothing at all, making memories, wondering who sent for me, if it wasn’t you then who was it, and if you didn’t why are you here anyways… ∆ LaLux ∆
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45
Everyone’s looking for an escape, a virtual reality with alternative facts, virtual because it’s almost reality, except it’s reality without all the commitment, and within, a virtual reality we can augment, what it used to be like back in base reality, and we can ponder on where the time went, & when I say time, I’m referring to the time in reality spent, because after all reality is the only thing real, and the experiences within them are the only thing you can’t invent, see the truth is the only thing that exists in actually existence, yeah sometimes truth is stranger than fiction, ask Buckaroo Bonzai, ask Stephen Hawkings ask Steve Jobs and, ask yourself why you’re alive, why you put up with the pain, why you put yourself through, why you still hesitate to act on instinct, when you know there’s nothing to it but to do it, everyone too scared to speak up, but everyone wants to be a hero, there’s not much purity to speak of, and evil seems to wear a halo, hey bro, or sis, or whatever label, you label yourself with, there’s not much untainted land left, there’s not much clean water, the days are getting shorter, and the nights are getting longer, the hearts are getting colder, but the earth is getting hotter, plus these days reality is such a pain, it often doesn’t seem worth the bother, maybe the rebellion can’t begin, because maybe it’s already done, but then again maybe it’s only getting started, and maybe the games have only just begun, and if this is the case, then you know it’s already on, but just one question before we begin, are you Ready Player One? ∆ Aaron LaLux ∆
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Sep 19, 2018
Sep 19, 2018 at 8:05 AM UTC
Ready Player One (Augmented Virtual Reality)
Everyone’s looking for an escape, a virtual reality with alternative facts, virtual because it’s almost reality, except it’s reality without all the commitment, and within, a virtual reality we can augment, what it used to be like back in base reality, and we can ponder on where the time went, & when I say time, I’m referring to the time in reality spent, because after all reality is the only thing real, and the experiences within them are the only thing you can’t invent, see the truth is the only thing that exists in actually existence, yeah sometimes truth is stranger than fiction, ask Buckaroo Bonzai, ask Stephen Hawkings ask Steve Jobs and, ask yourself why you’re alive, why you put up with the pain, why you put yourself through, why you still hesitate to act on instinct, when you know there’s nothing to it but to do it, everyone too scared to speak up, but everyone wants to be a hero, there’s not much purity to speak of, and evil seems to wear a halo, hey bro, or sis, or whatever label, you label yourself with, there’s not much untainted land left, there’s not much clean water, the days are getting shorter, and the nights are getting longer, the hearts are getting colder, but the earth is getting hotter, plus these days reality is such a pain, it often doesn’t seem worth the bother, maybe the rebellion can’t begin, because maybe it’s already done, but then again maybe it’s only getting started, and maybe the games have only just begun, and if this is the case, then you know it’s already on, but just one question before we begin, are you Ready Player One? ∆ Aaron LaLux ∆
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46
it’s not the video; she really looks like that
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Jul 17, 2015
Jul 17, 2015 at 9:46 AM UTC
It's Not The Video