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Felicity Moon Mar 2014
I'm a paradox
I want to be happy, but I think of things that make me sad
I'm lazy, yet I'm ambitious
I don't like myself, but I also like who I am
I say I don't care, but I really do
I crave attention, but I reject it when it comes my way
I'm a conflicted contradition
If I can't figured myself out, there's no way anyone else has.
Lyn-Purcell Jul 2017
You claim not to know
You merely know to deny
Child, be on your guard

The power of change
Which connotes both good and bad
Nothing stays the same

The natural line
Of what human truly means
A grey area
Humans are living contradictions.
Michael T Chase Apr 2021
I just use constructive proofs, which creates or gives a method of creating an object.
I use intuitionistic logic by not using the law of the excluded middle where either the proposition of its negation is true.
I use the law of non-contradition and law of identity.
Or, maybe I just use a lot of fuzzy logic, which utilizes data that is vague or imprecise.

I found a reason to continue.
autodidactic
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2020
"*******" that are a "contradition"
of... the blue moon: the tailored suit...
    being... catered to...
by an ottoman barber...
fling of words...
a priori: ad hoc... a posteriori: loot and
loco...
    there comes the
crisp... crux "lament" of the inversion of...
eating a slobber-aghast
of ice-cream...
twilight: this... "concensus"...
of the affirmed... needle: pointer...
there's the hay...
there's the needle:
you call the "ring of harmony"
of matrimony... how... else... you...
want... to call... it...

what i arrived at...
whatever ******* where...
the supposed missing teeth...
the gob-*****... whisper of promise...
such that the gob would suffice
to quake: no son would ever make
a mother's pardon...

to crave for wilt...
come the later years of the mortal
scheme... and my own the tying
loot of less: tongues...
grrrrr-ieving like a creaking
of the lobotomy of events...

what is the opera... music alone...
without the... libretto?!
what is... prokofiev's...
the battle of the ice...
                 like something...
tolkien would have to borrow from...

to refresh the memory...
for the "west" to somehow borrow from...
as if it were always: "always"
their own... rummaging
in their own plight...

BATACLAN LIVES...
     are to be... best kept...
in the sanctimony...
of an Abrahamic... *****... ladden...
frizzling: leeches of unforgivable hunger...
chains that will rattle...
and shadows that will move with
fully-embodied dexterity...
a shadow without a thought...
to make the body comply with
puppet-esque steering...
is...

    it's a hobby? no?
why should i care...
i'm not... a tolkien...
i'm not a fantasy fiction arrival of...
comfort...
      i once hoped...
i like the idea...
of... digging the grave of my too old
a fancy...
         it wasn't enough
to dream an escape...
beside... one that would be governed
with a... brick in limbo grace:
to not attain... the preserving case
for... this... that lost freedom exercise...
of western... structure...
and i might add...
i was never to be made privy of...
this... from beneath the iron curtain...
mongol-esque horde pseudo-man...
wise... the "nigh-grows" can pick
the cotton...
all i will have to stamp out stamp
on is... ash.
SLUR me into a debate
over CHERNOBYL!

n'ah... hobby... free of charge...
i paid for my internet access...
play the fiddle! keen: pseudo-communists
of former: capitalist fathers!
- why? because grand words...
and grand-standing...
is all that's leftover!

— The End —