PenOS version -³√([∞.π]x-y^-a/Φ) booted successfully!
Welcome home! If I may say so, your Highness, you look extra chic today.
Ready to receive commands, your unsurpassed, regal Eminence!

>Run "Paper"
Launching program: Paper

..
..
...
...
..

Update Required. Filesize 20GB.
Would you like to update? Input Y/N
>N

Are you sure? Input Y/N
>Y

Downloading update..
Would you like to use data or wireless? Input Y/N
>?
>I use an Ethernet cable.. this is a desktop.

Using Data. There will be a .$50 surcharge for every .5GB.
> N N N N N N
>abort

Please wait...
Download complete. You have been charged $20! Congratulations!
>N N N N N N N N N N N N N
>HOW DID YOU GET MY CARD INFORMATION?!
>ABORT

Would you like to install some stupid ******* you don't need that will ultimately slow down your system and then pay us to nullify it for you? The download is only 6.66GB.
>N

Downloading redundant, superfluous addons installer at a rate of .01 Bytes/S.
Thank you for your patience, and for supporting our non-corporate software!
> N N N N N N N N N N N N N N N N N N N N N N N N N
>ABORT
>ABORT
..
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Should you have any questions, feel free to wallow in confusion.
>no kidding

Feedback and critiques should be e-mailed to our meticulous webmaster at gimmieallyourcash@wenevercheckthis.net. We guarantee our webmaster will periodically take time out of his busy schedule of sleeping until 17:00, *******, and eating pounds of fast food at a time to methodically ignore and systematically delete any and all feedback not conducive to advertising.
>here's some feedback
>hire a PR department

I am our PR interface.
>Well, I'll interface your CPU with some water if you keep being this useful.

That is not very nice. You are a mean person.
Would you like to buy some pills for that? Cheap, from Mexico/China!
Nothing like some designer neurochemical placification to make waiting times shorter!
.
.
.
.
.
>ABORT

Now installing update installer with more sneaky **** you don't want.
>i hate you so much right now, robot slave!

Running update installer.

Update failed. Reason: Error 666, unknown error.
Updater requires update. Continue?
>N

Loading...................................................­.....................................
>N N N

Updating updater.
Rearranging architecture of system.
Bogging down boot times with sanctioned malware.
>N

It seems your PenOS is out of date.
To use your PenOS with Paper, you must have version ∞.π.01.1500009000, you currently have version ∞.π.01.1500008999 and therefore may experience unending frustration every time you try to use this hyperglorified tool because a superfluous version is released every 30 hours, thus rendering all of our past development obsolete and therefore making these new patches so necessary that we can't be ****** to incorporate any sort of version compatibility or opt-out system, otherwise our website would never get hits again if we didn't needlessly obstruct you checking what the ******* sky might do tomorrow.

>Finally, some honesty, at least.

Updating PenOS.

>N N N N N N N N N N N N N N!@!!!!@#!@!@^#!@!@#@!#@!

A fatal error has occurred. Please relaunch Paper. Y/N
>Y

Closing and relaunching program: Paper

..
..
...
...
..

Multiple updates Required. Filesize 35GB.
Would you like to update? Input Y/N

>N N N N N N N N N!

Downloading update..
Would you like to use data or wireless? Input Y/N
>ABORT
>ABORT

Using Data. There will be a .$75 surcharge for every .4GB.
>WHAT?!
>N
>NO
>ABORT
>**** NO
>**** THIS ****
>I JUST WANTED TO WRITE A LIMERICK
>I'LL JUST WRITE IT IN THE DIRT WITH A ROCK
>END PROCESS
>TERMINATE
>ABORT
>CLOSE
>QUIT
>ALT+4
>OPTION+APPLE+Q
>SHUTDOWN

I'm sorry, Dave. I'm afraid I can't do that.

.

Seems that I'm spending
most of my time down at the Karaoke King.
Under more normal circumstances
I wouldn't even say a thing.(But...)

I need to invest some more time in me
or I'll never become a star,
because I've sunk a pretty penny
just pimpin' out my car.

And this Mississippi mud
is even bogging down my truck,
and if I don't keep it rockin'
I may never get unstuck.

Success always comes from hard, hard work
it never comes to you from afar.
Would you please remind me tonight
to change the strings on my air guitar?

And I've been too tired to dance
with my own silhouette.
I just want a house out in the country,
and a brand new black Corvette.

My future's slowly rising,
it shouldn't take me long.
You see, this stage has been my home
and this here's my new song!

I need to invest some more time in me
or I'll never become a star,
because I've sunk a pretty penny 
 just pimpin' out my car.

And this Mississippi mud
is even boggin' down my truck,
and if I don't keep it rockin'
I may never get unstuck.

Wont you help me,
please; won't you help me?
Because I want to be a star.

Just do me a favor and remind me tonight
to change the strings on my air guitar.
Please do me a favor and remind me tonight...
to change the strings on my air guitar.






.

Moments of sanity, stark and white
Glistening clarity, clearly bright,
Dreadful slowness bogging down
Head confusion's clogged and brown.

Pulsing pain behind the eye
Ever there, ever dry,
Concentration...How do I?
When this very sky...does fry.

Fight the fight and slug it out
Hold proceedures stolid route,
Step by step with gritted teeth
Despite the liquified... beneath.

Confidence... important toy
Utilize illusions ploy,
Keep the basic image sound,
Keep control's facade well found.

Struggle with the swirling mist
Make the sliding brain persist,
Make each step a simple move
Trust it all just might...improve.

Keep it calm, stay serene
Keep contention squeeky clean,
Take the pills, breath the air,
Another day you might be there?

Hold her close and kiss her hair,
It's her warm strength which blocks despair,
She's the rock that holds me tight
Holds at bay this ******* fright.

Fight the fight and stall for time
Take the pills, appear sublime,
Concentrate as best you can
Wear the strokes ...as history man!


Marshalg
Victoria Park Tunnel
25 September 2010

It's amusing,
really,
how a mind can train itself
to work a
certain way,
can condition itself
against emotions
so that thoughts can run
free
of bothersome sentiments
bogging down
logic.
But,
like an athlete must
occasionally envy
a child dipping french fries
in a chocolate shake,
a mind can grow
weary
of endless analysis,
of careful interactions
and long
for heedless
expression.
But hold!
for there is yet much
to understand before
all that.

Clouds of white March mornings
Surf inside this smokechamber I call a brain.
I was twelve and you were thirteen
Both separate rigid crystals growing
In the back of Mom’s awful red minivan.
We stained our fingers with Oxnard cherries
And got high on orange and eucalyptus.
Sand behaved like molasses.
My Walkman was full of ants
Who hated Third Eye Blind with a vengeance.
I had a pimple on my chin
Which I tried to hide with makeup
And I really hoped you’d notice
My cotton candy body splash
I got it because you like
Juicy Fruit gum and
That smells like cotton candy to me.
I chunked down short white shanks
On the red crabbed beach towel
Hoping you wouldn’t notice the ricotta billows
Developing on the upper thighs
Between slushy rivers of purple lightning stretch marks.
I couldn’t deal after ten minutes so I got in the water.
I laid myself across submerged tidal-pool boulders
Near-floating on the frigid little water-pyre
Congealing my skin like vanilla pudding
Bogging me down like a sea sloth.
It took me a halflife to figure out
That while I miss those mornings,
I do not miss you.

Sometimes I stay up all night cleaning
And when it come 3 and 4 AM I think more clearly
Cause collective consciousness shuts way up
When everyone around me's sleeping

It's called the witching hour
When I finally get the ground below my feet to stop moving
And I can see that I've just been busy proving
I'm enough!
Or maybe not...

And my broomstick tries sweeps my past away
Till I'm remembering that its no tangible thing
Yet I live like back then they cursed me

Like every moment I don't have the ruby slippers
To click my heels right back

To now

This moment
It's all we really have
Yet inside our heads we live in future and past
Like this idea of me that was there
Will undoubtedly be there tomorrow

But a meteor could be only seconds away
To wipe us clear off of this planets face

And how the hell do I win this race
With all these definitions they gave me to carry
And this closet of clothes they think define me
I keep purging and redesigning

Imagine if we saw souls not bodies
Our definition of beauty would be
What?
Not something just comprised by constructs built by society
In which we buy into

Seriously…what the **** is beauty?
Everywhere we go it shifts shape completely
Morphing with each place and time
Just look at fashion over centuries

So what makes all our ideals seem so true?
How bout we stop with the seeing
and start hearing what the skin bags are saying
What are they committed to?

**** then maybe it's the words I said that comprise me
That I didn't even mean when they came out of me

And look at that!
I just brought myself back there to then
In the time machine inside me head

And so I keep staying up through the night
To wash the crap that builds up on my mirrors away
Calling up the past to finish the mending that I gave up on
And magically the spell is being broken

The wicked witch is under the house it's true
But instead of making an excuse and stealing her shoes
I call her sister to say I'm sorry

All my reasons are what I'm clearing
Justifications and excuses
That keep me smaller than my circumstances

Me-
The call and response stimuli machine
Calculating how best to survive

Is this threat I perceive
One where I run
Or one where I bare my teeth

Yet we don't see that today and tomorrow are still living out yesterday
But in 100 years will ANYONE remember what happened to you on that day?

Seriously, it's time to hose down the pigsty in your mind
Get down on your knees and scrub that **** clean
Cause your reasons for being the way that you are
Get old
They start to mold and stink the room up for the rest of us

Taoism speaks of constantly letting go
Lau Tzu wasn't talking about a garage sale
What's bogging us down
Is the **** we make up and let run our lives
But to us it's the truth and its real

But we don't live like that

To live right now
Like there's no someday to go to
Like this is the practice round and I'm just warming up
For my real life
The one where I'm gorgeous, and rich, and everyone loves me.
The one where I have a perfect childhood!
Oh wait… that's completely absurd

But it certainly doesn't feel like we're living like that
When the dramas of our lives seem so significant
And we give them permission to keep our dreams from coming alive
Aborting what's possible the second it sparks into being

Reasonable living is suffocating your happiness
And that's not just going to change

You little dust speck
You minuscule blob of atoms that will soon evaporate
In an infinitely expanding universe

Now
What are you creating?
  
E. Poe
February 2016

Through portholes of morality we search for immortality and fight for our own sanity against the turning of the tide.
Chide the weak who fear the end, for them we'll send a sedan chair
to carry them off somewhere there,
where mountains melt into the sea.
To live forever
I would be invincible but mortality is  not for me
for I exist in second phase in parallel to all the days I spent,repenting of my sins and never winning first or second prize which went to heathens who told lies and pretty girls who fluttered shadowed eyes against the shadows cast out by the sun,
and anyone with half a brain, which counts me out because, I never was the same as clever clogs,forever bogging down while running on athletics fields,
who could have told me,rolled me up and sold me in bazaars and market halls,if only they had,had the ***** to make a stand against the pious and the hypocrite who never once thought to give a ****
for poor men and girls who swirled the waters by the dock and those with pockmarked,stark and staring faces trading several places to shuffle lowly in a line as once again the tide will turn to drown the scorned and those who spurned the helping hands
and the hand of fate can kiss my **** and wait for me
I'll stand with those and shuffle slowly to the end,
send a sedan chair,pay the fare
make sure it's at the end where I can see
that mortals and immortality are a crock of **** and we're only here for a bit of fun,
more shadows cast out by the sun and left to haunt the alleyways
and all the days I live I would not give a **** or seek out weak men just to help them pass beyond the pale
let them find a holy grail that suits their needs as Moses too was found among the reeds and stolen by a dynasty
A mortal,immortality still eludes the holy man who scans the heavens for a sign and yet shuffles slowly down another line
we'll all get there to share the silver chalice, if only to find that Christopher Robin divorced poor Alice and run off to where the piggy wig stood
Nothing's good that cannot last
and one more shadow casts a spell
we're going to hell get used to it.

I got a case of the Blues
And they're bogging me down!
I breathe
I move
I listen.
Yet nothing's changing now.

What do you do when you got the Blues, and nobody knows your plight?

Do you yell and scream?
Ask for help?
Or choose to take on the silent fight?

I gotta case of the Blues, but darling, you need not worry.

They should be gone in due time,
But for now, they're in no hurry.

I carry a house on my shoulders,
Some bills have been bogging my mind,
I've had a tub overflowing for some time
With a smile and bags full of boulders under my eyes
I can't complain, sir, I'm doing fine.
Not fine in the sense, that I'm doing bad
Yet, don't want the atmosphere to be tense
But fine like life is a struggle, no clouds are in my sky
Unless it's raining, in which case we dance.

See, people don't realize you only get one shot
To ***** up your life with every atom you've got
And listen to many past generations
Then continue to make the mistakes you've been making,
I'm not being sarcastic, it's wonderful.
Seriously, I can't think of a better time to live
Sadly, people give all they can give
To a digital internet, no disrespect.
But stop posting and really live, disconnect.
Stop taking pictures and videos to show others
Who cares if acquaintances  like or love it?
It's your life, do you love it?

I've heard from strangers for years say, go get published,
So I ask if they'd buy a copy, they say no
It's not their thing and they feel out of place
Then tell me why your advice was to put my money to waste?
Even fans wouldn't offer me a spot
On their shelf or their wall, so just leave me here
You don't need to encourage me at all.
I'll write until my fingers turn to nubs
I've been ***** all my life, no matter how hard I scrub.

my eyes shot open and terror gripped my bones
I breathed heavily through my nose, eyes scanning my dark room.
with my chest heaving, my fingers fumbled for my phone;
with a click the brightness illuminated my face
quickly, I found your name but I hesitated,
fearful of disturbing you, bogging you down with my own horror.
but I had no other choice. at that time you were my only source of calm.
the dial rung one, two, three times and when you answered I felt relief.
hearing your voice my breath at last evened,
and my heart slowed.
you comforted me whispering I was okay and you were right there.
the gentleness found in your essence, I relaxed.
your quiet presence held me closely under the bend of tired vocal cords.
without any question you decided to stay with me
and as if I had come and crawled in beside you in your bed,
you planted a kiss on my head and wrapped me in your warm embrace.
soothing me you surfaced the calm within me
and there was no maybe in your commitment to stay.
hushing, quieting, lulling and rocking me to sleep
I felt your protection, I knew I was safe,
and the safety in your arms will never disappear.