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"mods" poems
I hitch a ride on the Battle Bus, Everyone else jumped out, I must. I deploy my parachute below, I glide my way to Moisty Meadow. As I land I slurp some shields, Extra health and a pistol I wield. I loot the houses and **** the squads, Which would not be possible without my mods. I run from the storm throughout the game, I post on the 'Gram that I won for fame. Everyone that saw my Victory Royale, Commented below and said "Dang, Wow!" Now that I won, I'm the coolest around, I walk down the halls with a figurative crown.
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Feb 16, 2018
Feb 16, 2018 at 2:24 PM UTC
Fortnite
I have let my nails grow some they are well over the tips of my fingers, i’d say considerably long. noticeable is their length as i text smilies type similes. sincerely, i am apologizing now and well in advance for any future scratches, scrapes, welts. any body mods. highly probable are scars to your skin too, later revealing themselves, after a bath like a photograph being developed. i dig deep in the heat of-brushing, my lips will serve as nurse, medicinal in purpose. so there is no need to worry.
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Nov 10, 2011
Nov 10, 2011 at 5:04 PM UTC
manicure
A head A giant boney mass Many mouths and eyes            thoroughly babbling,            whatever,            etc. Snapping and blinking Mouths Melded together on this ultra cranium Yapping on and on On and on and on Yellowed teeth and bedazzled grills Botnet mods and crop tools The most dastardly of all - An infinite production of fuzzy, Buzzing noise blobs. And Attempts to add me To its mass connection-collection head Leave me offended. "What's on your mind?" Go away. You ******* freakazoid.
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Apr 16, 2012
Apr 16, 2012 at 3:26 PM UTC
Koobface
He will not fix it, He is such a bleak assignment He is bigoted as **** But I'm surprised You're voting him to power, And in English, that would be Ignorance! He will push you back 50 years On opinions about modern living, He will **** your families and Ask you to never leave Churches. Somebody come and look at this, All puny mods are voting for A Phoney Republic! You might very well need More oil Stage 9/11 and get more Private armies to Middle East? Create more ISISs, Make All Muslims look Evil, Give them a free ride to West and EU And finally make them Fat, Dumb and Addicted to Reality TV! Well, just run off to Mexico, There'll at least be a wall between you and Trump!
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May 4, 2016
May 4, 2016 at 9:45 AM UTC
Are you a McDonald Trumpet fan?
I put a hole in my lip For every hollow kiss And a hole in my nose For every wilted rose. I fill my skin with ink, Leaves less room for scars. If only I gave a **** About lungs full of tar.
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Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 8:11 PM UTC
Body Mods and Cigarettes
****** f@ggot shill and f@g oldf@gs newf@gs rolling hard trips and dubs and even quads but OP won't deliver rate us, hate us, sauce pls now in this thread we save a cat mods, is this under 18? the /b/etards at it yet again but we don't talk about it cringe us rekt us make us laugh this thread's preventing suicide ****** racism sexism **** we mostly rate body parts in /soc/ normies not welcome ****** alpha, femanon is a girl? **** or **** welcome to the internets pics or it didn't happen gore thread? not enough! self-hate, ponies, rule 34 fap the "cesspool of the internet" is really not that bad
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Jun 7, 2015
Jun 7, 2015 at 10:20 AM UTC
4chan poem
Why Why why why I left because of all that happened but I was banned anyways for "dehumanizing" you I said nothing i was silent I'm sorry for what ever i did I'm sorry that I broke your heart and I made you feel like less of a person I just want to know why banning me was valid. why would you manipulate the mods like that? what the ****
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Dec 21, 2015
Dec 21, 2015 at 4:25 AM UTC
What the ****
We started out being cheap, but being impoverished eventually saved us... It became a fad, almost everything did. Whoever had money, would spend things to make themselves more connected to the singularity, more tapped in. We were all suffering from information addiction, looking for our next fix. Likes were a thing of the past, we didn't just want digital affirmation anymore, we needed to feel more powerful. Of course this was just something we created in our mind because we saw others gaining this perceived 'power', of course if you can, in your mind, research, copy, paste, spellcheck - everything a computer could do, you would seem more capable of a human, but in reality, once you left your mind's energy up for just processing power, you were nothing more than a machine... some of us let our minds go entirely, favouring searches and what is already known to fill in the blanks for our own exploratory research. Mods weren't cheap. But so many people were willing to pay for convenience. - mods help us think, they can schedule our lives. - certain ones are just cognitive enhancers, basically a microcomputer that knows which electrical impulses to fire in your brain for improved cognitive functions, muscle controls or even releases of certain chemicals (serotonin) - Others are just things like ocular mods (contact screens) - Viruses are terrifying. - New wave of humans who choose to be 'fed' - near braindead. Enabled to know made unknowing, allowed to follow, sometimes the struggle is necessary. Reporter main character either snaps back into reality or overpower systems with willpower she sees past the hiccups of self and knows how to command the bots break it down, robot girl, make the demons dance for you,
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Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 5:58 PM UTC
Broken down robot girl
We started out being cheap, but being impoverished eventually saved us... It became a fad, almost everything did. Whoever had money, would spend things to make themselves more connected to the singularity, more tapped in. We were all suffering from information addiction, looking for our next fix. Likes were a thing of the past, we didn't just want digital affirmation anymore, we needed to feel more powerful. Of course this was just something we created in our mind because we saw others gaining this perceived 'power', of course if you can, in your mind, research, copy, paste, spellcheck - everything a computer could do, you would seem more capable of a human, but in reality, once you left your mind's energy up for just processing power, you were nothing more than a machine... some of us let our minds go entirely, favouring searches and what is already known to fill in the blanks for our own exploratory research. Mods weren't cheap. But so many people were willing to pay for convenience. - mods help us think, they can schedule our lives. - certain ones are just cognitive enhancers, basically a microcomputer that knows which electrical impulses to fire in your brain for improved cognitive functions, muscle controls or even releases of certain chemicals (serotonin) - Others are just things like ocular mods (contact screens) - Viruses are terrifying. - New wave of humans who choose to be 'fed' - near braindead. Enabled to know made unknowing, allowed to follow, sometimes the struggle is necessary. Reporter main character either snaps back into reality or overpower systems with willpower she sees past the hiccups of self and knows how to command the bots break it down, robot girl, make the demons dance for you,
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45
Canvas sits in dim lit cars While silver trails into the stars My pipe breathes just beneath the seat Where art and people meet.
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Sep 12, 2013
Sep 12, 2013 at 2:27 PM UTC
Body Mods And Smoking ***
Who am I? The kid who likes music and art? The annoying kid Who never pays attention? The kid who After discovering it one day Due to boredom, Likes Body mods? Who am I? The one crippled kid Who everyone seems to pity? Boy? Girl? Both? Neither? That one gay kid? Who am I? I remember I used to have tons of friends, Where did they go? Why can't i remember The good times I used to have? I shut them all out, I can't remember if i meant too or not. Who am I?
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May 17, 2013
May 17, 2013 at 11:44 PM UTC
Who am i?
Wind blows softly over grass, caressing every blade free to dance and love and sing left to travel, float and fly, to visit every glade adventuring across the globe in a glorious drifting fling we are the same as the wind, if we choose to be to live life freely, to love where we will wandering forth with smiling mods glowing openly overflowing hearts spilling endlessly as a poets scratching quill Yes the wind is free, as we can be, though it will never know what it means to stay still in a time and place to get incredibly lost in a person, ignoring times flow laying there still, silent and smiling, staring at your face to be no longer needing to wander, curiosity paused to be happy to live sights already lived, ecstatic i would say! though all things fade, in sadness this is known and caused all things move and change, all things drift away there is pain in this, a hurt that digs and burns and in this we know something the wind does not that this love, through pain and wonder, this is for what we yearn! Yes the wind is free, to see the earth and experience every jot we are can find what the wind cannot, no matter where it flows we can choose to be more then just a wind and, by the gods, just watch us grow!
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Jan 1, 2015
Jan 1, 2015 at 11:59 PM UTC
Freedom (Price)
It never fails he would say- looking my way, to the lonely eyes that see beyond the stars, yet they shine so fair like the moon eyes that change with mods, a heart full of love and cheerfulness, cares so deeply for others and has been through plenty now that is what I call poetry. - Judy Emery © 1999 The Queen Of Darken Dreams Poetic Lilly Emery
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Sep 20, 2020
Sep 20, 2020 at 2:07 PM UTC
WHAT I CALL POETRY
In the artefact of Dreamland, resurrected wooden rides hope for countless  bookings, though the  drunks   still come to the  Mechanical  Elephant for their morning well-being. Buyer beware cameras with broken  meters are displayed from the last camera shop We are witnessing  the flaming of the sands that  still remembers  Mods and Rockers with a montage of photographs at the train station's entrance including two girls tearing each others hair out, ominously welcomes the expected arrivals from the four corners of the social, making this as exciting as a  holiday weekend in Hither Green without the sea.
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Jun 10, 2016
Jun 10, 2016 at 11:50 AM UTC
Margate
My hometown was rough because teddy boys and mods and rockers off the cargo ships from Glasgow and the docks and slums of England rocked the streets and knocked the local toughs out silly with their knuckledusters. They also slashed them with their razors and their chains. Yeah, but my friends and I had a revolver when we were kids and we used to try and shoot out streetlights on dark and stormy nights. We missed, but we could have shot those boaties close up for all their street frights and all their ****** peccadilloes like ******* local girls and leaving a league of nations in their wake. We didn't pull the trigger there, but they shouldn’t have got away with snickering among themselves that they could pull girls’ knickers down when they wanted, and scare us with their their flick knives. We let them get away with thinking we were easy pickings in that small town where I was born. But it’s just as well, really. I'm glad we didn't take their lives.   Mike T Minehan
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Aug 23, 2017
Aug 23, 2017 at 4:58 AM UTC
My Hometown
I want to write a rap, but I don't think I got it in me Kick it with my girl and marvel at our scars symmetry I'm bothered by the ministry Trying to tell me these churches work in synergy Well I don't believe it Take a priest as a slave, lash out, and beat it While I'm contemplatin suicide, getting more heated Having conversation with cold eyes where his severed head is seated! I **** with Jesus! Frowning upon his subjects for their tattoos and their body mods I Speak with more sin than the ancient priests of Babylon While I babble on, I'm purely evil, I'm sitting with a ****** rifle, perched on the steeple My rage burns at a higher temperature than Jet diesel Been festering inside, nursing it like it was fetal Now I feel it's time for societies upheaval I'm fully loaded A poetic god ready to separate the broken from the chosen, You can try to warm my heart but I assure you that **** is frozen Take the first shots, Breathe in, line em up in my focus Not anything escapes from this area that I be scopin' I'm homicidal, I'm on my set quest to rid the pests of false idols Don't you move Mr. Preacher Man, I'm aiming for ya vitals
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Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 9:38 AM UTC
Sacreligious (this may offend you)
Oh we have danced in the discotech with partners of all nations when after liberation we all danced to the songs of liberty. Under all our flags united. As time went by we stopped dancing and others came With new music and one flag. But like mods and rockers they could not dance together and fought away from the sound of the music. Now the only tunes played are national anthems as rebel rousers for dancers, who don't dance and don't know the words to the songs. Cries of patriotism yet dressed as nationalists. Calls to arms were peace held a fragile embrace like the elderly tangoing. Now the new dancers don't dance. They sit on the edges of the room causing fights. Soon the discotech will bar our entry and then when others are barred too, Groups and gangs will form and fighting begin again, like the days before the discotech. Who will be the bouncers this time.
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Sep 3, 2019
Sep 3, 2019 at 7:00 PM UTC
The Dance of Brexit
Whatever may be circumstances and whatever may be odds But no one can debar me my sweetheart with in your company Do you know what you are to me as mod of mods god of gods You are like a golden glow in sheer darkness so sweet and sunny Love at first sight and beauty at eternal height is what I understand Fragrance is everywhere as beauty has touched edge of eternity Light has spread everywhere on the sky and on entire universe,land Every one is bound to understand that you are wonderful and pretty Love is always on forefront to kiss the paces of beauty with passion I am your staunch lover and intend follow whatever may be traces Beauty in its own charm and graces portray whatever is best fashion How can I save myself from assaults of your saucy and tasty graces Col Muhammad Khalid Khan Copyright 2016 Golden Glow
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Sep 14, 2016
Sep 14, 2016 at 2:29 AM UTC
Beauty with Passion
The Shok-tod waddled down, the avenues of despair Holding out his corro-pod, for everyone was there As chem-adids rolled out, and gasped, full of dismay Wailing at the alcha-mids, in rank and full display ****** if done or not, no recourse for the dead It's not like he didn't try, no lack of words he'd said The desi-mods and few-perod, had nothing to compare So they gis-relfed their bolog-wed, and quipped, of C'est La Guerre
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Oct 19, 2016
Oct 19, 2016 at 10:26 AM UTC
That's War, for the Shoktod
We celebrate, don't we. We celebrate celebrity, don’t' we. Fame and fortune, apprehended while still alive, we celebrate such aims hit. Right on. We worldly humus beings, highest bits of the dust of the earth; we, self evidently know, in side, on the inside of what we are, there is an idea of being measured for worth, by the joy you use by right to stir the old ideas that once formed gods. we feel the flow, we know more blessed to give, than receive, given and given evidence of all we know we never see overwhelming the hope deferred heart sick deception post reception, too late, the fix is in. The heart is new, not twisted, designed, with that magnificent aortal vagus CNX action, swirling the field of all we imagine into watchaseeswattchgit Hide, and watch… there is no whimper when this bubble of been is popped. But its not a bang, more a hiss or a sigh. The traditional medium, words, thinking, the thinking thing seems to think somethings missing something is missing a sense of why mass and matter whats whats whats first things first wise arises as a character trait, wait - there was a chance all hell could be imagined as real as any thing, so we made some mods on V.2.1, biome factors... -- time, yeah, time is a factor, but not luck… patience, per fect love casts out fear, not perfect aim. good wins, try again Fear not. Death has no sting. That's it, God's own fear fix, so low we go with this sci used, just right, so life always wins, using sci-, hence, no lie forms from truth, no imaginable evil ever exists, never is perfectly empty. panspermia pandaemonium psy=sci wit use of knowns, we try umph, and be come at worst a proven unthinkable thing. celebrity (n.) late 14c., "solemn rite or ceremony," from Old French celebrité "celebration" or directly from Latin celibritatem  (nominative celebritas) "multitude, fame," from celeber  "frequented, populous" (see celebrate). Meaning "condition of being famous" is from c. 1600; that of "a famous person" is from 1849. When the old gods withdraw, the empty thrones cry out for a successor, and with good management, or even without management, almost any perishable bag of bones may be hoisted into the vacant seat. [E.R. Dodds, "The Greeks and the Irrational"] From <https://www.etymonline.com/search?q=celebrity>
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Jun 30, 2020
Jun 30, 2020 at 8:36 PM UTC
When do we celebrate our wins?
We celebrate, don't we. We celebrate celebrity, don’t' we. Fame and fortune, apprehended while still alive, we celebrate such aims hit. Right on. We worldly humus beings, highest bits of the dust of the earth; we, self evidently know, in side, on the inside of what we are, there is an idea of being measured for worth, by the joy you use by right to stir the old ideas that once formed gods. we feel the flow, we know more blessed to give, than receive, given and given evidence of all we know we never see overwhelming the hope deferred heart sick deception post reception, too late, the fix is in. The heart is new, not twisted, designed, with that magnificent aortal vagus CNX action, swirling the field of all we imagine into watchaseeswattchgit Hide, and watch… there is no whimper when this bubble of been is popped. But its not a bang, more a hiss or a sigh. The traditional medium, words, thinking, the thinking thing seems to think somethings missing something is missing a sense of why mass and matter whats whats whats first things first wise arises as a character trait, wait - there was a chance all hell could be imagined as real as any thing, so we made some mods on V.2.1, biome factors... -- time, yeah, time is a factor, but not luck… patience, per fect love casts out fear, not perfect aim. good wins, try again Fear not. Death has no sting. That's it, God's own fear fix, so low we go with this sci used, just right, so life always wins, using sci-, hence, no lie forms from truth, no imaginable evil ever exists, never is perfectly empty. panspermia pandaemonium psy=sci wit use of knowns, we try umph, and be come at worst a proven unthinkable thing. celebrity (n.) late 14c., "solemn rite or ceremony," from Old French celebrité "celebration" or directly from Latin celibritatem  (nominative celebritas) "multitude, fame," from celeber  "frequented, populous" (see celebrate). Meaning "condition of being famous" is from c. 1600; that of "a famous person" is from 1849. When the old gods withdraw, the empty thrones cry out for a successor, and with good management, or even without management, almost any perishable bag of bones may be hoisted into the vacant seat. [E.R. Dodds, "The Greeks and the Irrational"] From <https://www.etymonline.com/search?q=celebrity>
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78
Can somebody tell me just when did this happen commentary on when the bean is ready to ripen we had tea long before time from China down through the Himalayas, our army marched on this stuff we all now have a new flavoured taste, the humble cup of tea is now considered a crime From the elegance of Earl Grey to the builder’s cup of Yorkshire to be handed this over a mocha or latte, oh how those new snobs do sneer seventy pence for that cup of drivel, I would rather die a thirsty death a bit like shopping in Lidl, only at my last breath Sitting down with paper in hand, let me look like I’m part of a movement I’m one of you, were part of a clan, our work taking up life’s joyous fulfilment Order a bagel or maybe a donut, take a box back for the guys in HR I know I’m being ripped off, but best look like a toff, as I struggle to pay for my flash car And there we have it and what we create, a brand now known in our time from the mods to the rockers and onto the 80’s yuppie, to be different is seen as a crime They rock up to work, Costa in hand as they clock in with their key fobs for these are the people of today and will always be seen as the new age coffee snobs. JJB
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May 23, 2018
May 23, 2018 at 6:00 AM UTC
Coffee Snobs
I felt something awesome Every time I saw you. Maybe I was desperate, And wanted one thing to be true. Then you came around, Asked me something I'll never forget. "How do you delete a thread?" "Show me the link, I'll tell the mods." A link was posted. I clicked. Love lingered somewhere, The false and the real. When you delete the false, You leave the real. Delete.
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Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 2:07 AM UTC
The Delete
Games of war, have always been war games. Von Neuman and A. E. Wildersmith and I were reasoning with a wandering mind claiming -bug in my eye me me em meme, I think we missed a reason for war. -stop actual bug tic Is there one that does not steal, **** and destroy, nay. Is this a thief's old trick, watch take your time… tic The Naval Electronic War Simulator                                   -c.1960 What're the odds based on known unknown? Rand, AI is un biased, mono options outcomes are not, so we live double minded, who is responding to morphic resonic we we we memeing miming silent plots, stories telling stories as if once there were these beings sent to serve the man kind who think, curiously, acting the role of kurio, I think I am a thinking thing, not a man, smaller than a breadbox, if that is still a common clue, one end gives moo, the other gives poo, those males of the bovine ilk… none remain who know it all, there was a fall, a wall fell in some in Silo- am I sure sure I heard word o'good smite me with blithering idiocy so as none recall the lies, when I said, this is that way, and it was really this way, all along the watchtower, nothing, ever, but joker's making thieves confess, there need be no such way out of here. This is the answer to somebody else's prayer, you and I got in by slickest trick ever played, we said it must be true. We happened to agree, a we we be or else this is a simulation of a Turing Test with actual Von Neuman per- petuity mods, self-governing beings thinkable as characters by any augmented sapient, this is now. We are online, as they say, to all Wichita linemen, somewhere in was.
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Oct 28, 2020
Oct 28, 2020 at 10:48 PM UTC
Somewhere in was
Games of war, have always been war games. Von Neuman and A. E. Wildersmith and I were reasoning with a wandering mind claiming -bug in my eye me me em meme, I think we missed a reason for war. -stop actual bug tic Is there one that does not steal, **** and destroy, nay. Is this a thief's old trick, watch take your time… tic The Naval Electronic War Simulator                                   -c.1960 What're the odds based on known unknown? Rand, AI is un biased, mono options outcomes are not, so we live double minded, who is responding to morphic resonic we we we memeing miming silent plots, stories telling stories as if once there were these beings sent to serve the man kind who think, curiously, acting the role of kurio, I think I am a thinking thing, not a man, smaller than a breadbox, if that is still a common clue, one end gives moo, the other gives poo, those males of the bovine ilk… none remain who know it all, there was a fall, a wall fell in some in Silo- am I sure sure I heard word o'good smite me with blithering idiocy so as none recall the lies, when I said, this is that way, and it was really this way, all along the watchtower, nothing, ever, but joker's making thieves confess, there need be no such way out of here. This is the answer to somebody else's prayer, you and I got in by slickest trick ever played, we said it must be true. We happened to agree, a we we be or else this is a simulation of a Turing Test with actual Von Neuman per- petuity mods, self-governing beings thinkable as characters by any augmented sapient, this is now. We are online, as they say, to all Wichita linemen, somewhere in was.
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you are an *** I made a poem you yelled at me Evann and I said, **** YOU LOSER CHILL YOUR **** and he said like a pshyco "No U LoSEr" and now I am forced to take desperate measures **** you, -the entire site Ps, we reported you to the mods :) pps, hey could you guys knock some sense into this man he blocked us **** ppps, ur mommie said you can't raid area 51 bc u bulli me :))))))))))))))))
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Jul 22, 2019
Jul 22, 2019 at 8:02 PM UTC
Dear Janry Purplebuilt
Personal. Me, I gotta assume you are. aware I live with grandchildren, the old fashioned way oldness is taken care of as it occurs to me. It gives me an edge on others. Reader, dear if you know my work, your price was dear indeed, as you know experience keeps a dear school, but such as I learned in no other. It was free. Now that I recall all the details with AI supplying victual literal mods on my new wine memory spigot spigot, this was invented, faucets we called 'm, then this old man, white hair, a hoary head, they call it, up north, where there ain't no mo' morning dew, but there is frost, beautiful crystals sifting unseeable beauty forms in light, during the night empowered by the cold, this frozen beauty cartoons cannot convey, though if you sing it like a child, dancing with yourself in the mirror, on grandma's closet old men may only imagine the dance, or see it, that once that child's unblemished wish to sing and dance, but not in snow. No, only here now. She sees me see her in the mirror.
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Apr 5, 2021
Apr 5, 2021 at 4:41 PM UTC
I saw a Degas, live
A little girl was born in a square mile a babylondoner, February child, who had many sheep disguises , born in the hour of the sheep, in a house on the street where the Shepherdess Walked, travelling on the underground, one would have to stop, at Angel.  Her Father called her after him, by all accounts she was the prettiest child, his fourth, her father was very vain, on this subject, it was hard for him to be humble. Her name also had sheep, her name meant sheep, her middle name a Ram on a King. Her Father worried about the violence, the football hooligans , the fights between mods and rockers, he decided to move back to the homecountry, the country of her Mother and Fathers birth, the Emerald Isle.  This coincided with an eviction notice, their house was about to get knocked down.    She moved to the plain of the Yew in the Emerald isle when she was four years old, they built a house in the town of the Castle by the river Barr, on a height that was named Harmony, that place did not often live up to it's name.  Her father came from another town that was much prettier, not far away, houses and land were as rare as hen's teeth, in that town, it was not cheap either.  Her Mother had an idea she wanted distance from her Mother in law, Rachel Ramona and her mother clashed a lot on ideas, but they did love each other, and Rachel understood her Mother, better than her Mother gave her credit for.   To RRK, her Mother was never there for her, her Mother had an issue with her, that is a puzzle to this day, it will probally always remain a puzzle, her Mother never talks about stuff like emotions, feelings, or the inner landscape. RRK found refuge in the world of men from the youngest age, she felt like she belonged in that camp, this idea got her into a lot of trouble, then, now and probally in her immediate future.
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Oct 11, 2020
Oct 11, 2020 at 9:14 AM UTC
Once Upon A Time.... my life as a cliche
A little girl was born in a square mile a babylondoner, February child, who had many sheep disguises , born in the hour of the sheep, in a house on the street where the Shepherdess Walked, travelling on the underground, one would have to stop, at Angel.  Her Father called her after him, by all accounts she was the prettiest child, his fourth, her father was very vain, on this subject, it was hard for him to be humble. Her name also had sheep, her name meant sheep, her middle name a Ram on a King. Her Father worried about the violence, the football hooligans , the fights between mods and rockers, he decided to move back to the homecountry, the country of her Mother and Fathers birth, the Emerald Isle.  This coincided with an eviction notice, their house was about to get knocked down.    She moved to the plain of the Yew in the Emerald isle when she was four years old, they built a house in the town of the Castle by the river Barr, on a height that was named Harmony, that place did not often live up to it's name.  Her father came from another town that was much prettier, not far away, houses and land were as rare as hen's teeth, in that town, it was not cheap either.  Her Mother had an idea she wanted distance from her Mother in law, Rachel Ramona and her mother clashed a lot on ideas, but they did love each other, and Rachel understood her Mother, better than her Mother gave her credit for.   To RRK, her Mother was never there for her, her Mother had an issue with her, that is a puzzle to this day, it will probally always remain a puzzle, her Mother never talks about stuff like emotions, feelings, or the inner landscape. RRK found refuge in the world of men from the youngest age, she felt like she belonged in that camp, this idea got her into a lot of trouble, then, now and probally in her immediate future.
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