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#wipe
Exeunt omnes Exeunt Omnes is a Latin stage direction, commonly used in theater and drama, which means “all (of the characters who are on stage) leave”. Emptiness glares at the unbemused, and bemused as well, the entertainment, reenacting old tales, has left the stage empty, curtains wide open, O, hear, backstage, listen, the next act, this is the set, the empty stage, O, see, that light came on, soon it must shine on something we must see, from where we sit, - a light on an empty set is a Chekovian gun - it must illuminate, a plotted point… - replat to arrange room to expand waiting, imagining someone peeking, through the fourth wall from behind the backdrop, counting empty seats, and finding none not empty, but mine, where I sit, this is it, I am the attendant paying attention to the nuance evolving constant artforms, reactive agents acting out the gluonic mythos accruing arts eventual discernment, messages to all who see, rising mist hear the outside world through the open window, stare contentedly into the white noise, listening, obscuring fog carried on winds, on which prophets say Jah walks, wafting down from the empty stage, to fill the emptiness between us each, in a sphere of influence, as it were, as real as Glenda of the North, oozing after ousia, epiousiatical usual rational, vital substance essence of first intention, to tell the truth, about why any creator's mind makes peace, the heroic struggle is the truth, per se, indeed, working out your own salvation, while involved with fear and trembling anticipation, hoping to be chosen, as the sorting hat allows, destination, local J.C., augmented by an L.A. County Library Card. -- in the realm of all seeking sanctioned American citizen level access to idle records… some never imaginable incredible proofs lie, credibility discovered while unbelieving lies, what a freeman, wombed or un, is, believe me, no person in prison, is. That is believable, while incredible is really not. Free is lonely. Believing is an act we are assumed capable of performing, before we have words, we are bound up in some kinda love, or we just fail to become what we could be as we become, we all pass all our infancy, without words, that is what an infant human is, not a pup or a kitten or a chick or a kid, a wordless form of a flesh encased spirit, a measure of our whole truth weform, as we breathe and have our being, our behaviors, in the medium between empty stages. VOG cut the house lights.
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Sep 30, 2024
Sep 30, 2024 at 5:52 PM UTC
Between stages
Exeunt omnes Exeunt Omnes is a Latin stage direction, commonly used in theater and drama, which means “all (of the characters who are on stage) leave”. Emptiness glares at the unbemused, and bemused as well, the entertainment, reenacting old tales, has left the stage empty, curtains wide open, O, hear, backstage, listen, the next act, this is the set, the empty stage, O, see, that light came on, soon it must shine on something we must see, from where we sit, - a light on an empty set is a Chekovian gun - it must illuminate, a plotted point… - replat to arrange room to expand waiting, imagining someone peeking, through the fourth wall from behind the backdrop, counting empty seats, and finding none not empty, but mine, where I sit, this is it, I am the attendant paying attention to the nuance evolving constant artforms, reactive agents acting out the gluonic mythos accruing arts eventual discernment, messages to all who see, rising mist hear the outside world through the open window, stare contentedly into the white noise, listening, obscuring fog carried on winds, on which prophets say Jah walks, wafting down from the empty stage, to fill the emptiness between us each, in a sphere of influence, as it were, as real as Glenda of the North, oozing after ousia, epiousiatical usual rational, vital substance essence of first intention, to tell the truth, about why any creator's mind makes peace, the heroic struggle is the truth, per se, indeed, working out your own salvation, while involved with fear and trembling anticipation, hoping to be chosen, as the sorting hat allows, destination, local J.C., augmented by an L.A. County Library Card. -- in the realm of all seeking sanctioned American citizen level access to idle records… some never imaginable incredible proofs lie, credibility discovered while unbelieving lies, what a freeman, wombed or un, is, believe me, no person in prison, is. That is believable, while incredible is really not. Free is lonely. Believing is an act we are assumed capable of performing, before we have words, we are bound up in some kinda love, or we just fail to become what we could be as we become, we all pass all our infancy, without words, that is what an infant human is, not a pup or a kitten or a chick or a kid, a wordless form of a flesh encased spirit, a measure of our whole truth weform, as we breathe and have our being, our behaviors, in the medium between empty stages. VOG cut the house lights.
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My favorite pursuit of happiness is to recite the enchanting verses from the beauteous Quran. To be lost in its splendor. To Mesmerize myself with its grandeur. Breath with pure sublimity. I can wipe out my woes and blues. And rise to the majestic heights of glee, like an uncaged eagle who soared to be free.
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Apr 13, 2021
Apr 13, 2021 at 7:11 AM UTC
My favorite pursuit of happiness
I wish I could learn that trick too, The way you wipe your every lie With your sweet kisses My Love!
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Mar 11, 2020
Mar 11, 2020 at 6:22 AM UTC
To Wipe Every Lie
we hide because we want to be found we walkaway just to see who will follow we cry to see who will wipe our tears away we let our hearts break just to see who will fix them
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Oct 21, 2018
Oct 21, 2018 at 1:19 AM UTC
We
What would it take to make a grown man cry? When the only thing important to him shoots themself and dies And nobody realized what was going through her mind til she loaded one in the chamber and put it between her eyes And her soul goes up to the skies And everyone's asking why She was young, loving and selfless It wasn't her time to die It's only when it's too late That's when everybody tries And it's only when it's too late Now that's when everybody cries So tell your loved ones they matter and you might save their lives 'Cause it's only when it's too late Now that's when everybody cries
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Jun 8, 2018
Jun 8, 2018 at 9:58 AM UTC
Wipe Their Tears
Look at your own doorstep, before wiping your feet on others.
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Sep 7, 2017
Sep 7, 2017 at 4:53 PM UTC
Lies On Your Doorstep
A glass to every drink All the lights Shined through it All the eyes Glanced on it A glass for every lady A lady with a diamond A lady with a gold Or a lady with a chain A glass to every party All the water Wetted it pretty All the napkins Wiped with perfections A glass to a catastrophe Broke into the floor With no one felt happy Or sorry The glass had broken Into pieces Cleaned and banished And the party continued
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Dec 27, 2016
Dec 27, 2016 at 12:49 AM UTC
The story of a Glass
Let the tears of sky, wipe away the wears of Life. Let the hush of night, calms the rush of Life. Let the peace in your mind, usher miles and miles of Smiles.
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Jul 4, 2016
Jul 4, 2016 at 9:40 AM UTC
Let the...!! (a little prayer)
When I saw you crying, My heart was crushed into smithereens, *Your sobs reverberated into my world, And gives the most disconsolate euphony within me,* **All I ever desire, Is for you to be happy,** *Oh how I really wanted to hug you, Comfort you and wipe away all those tears from your eyes,* But I knew we are far from each other, **So let my genuine love enclasp you, And give you the best console.** with love <3 © Earl Jane ♥ E.J.C.S.
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Aug 16, 2015
Aug 16, 2015 at 8:54 AM UTC
My Best Console For You
she took back every single apology that she ever gave.
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Mar 18, 2015
Mar 18, 2015 at 4:50 PM UTC
erase. (10w)
Tears; Fallen, unchecked, Onto red blotched cheeks; Won't someone wipe them away? Tears; Stray for the dead, Ones who have gone; Won't someone wipe them away? Tears; What good they do, For you, And me, Won't someone wipe them away?
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Nov 22, 2014
Nov 22, 2014 at 6:08 PM UTC
Tears