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"oblongata" poems
. Mirror Mirror on the Wall; Walk with me n be my Friend: fending oFF thee awful Qualm, calming all the thoughts of Death. Mirror Mirror on the Wall; Talk to me if no one Else. "tell me what to do aGain?... ...death is gonna Haunchew." Mirror Mirror on the Wall, Waltzing in my ball of Hair; share the Yarn of all you Bear, spare the Rod n chop the Sheers. Mirror Mirror on the Wall; "Welcome to the slums of Hell." help me Speak in bleeding Tongue. "vi la Vita......vi de Vel". Mirror Mirror on the Wall: wall of Talking thought so Clear; hear the Fall of waldo's Water, thrall the Call of ocean Odlaw. Mirror Mirror on the Wall; call my Bluff n cuff my Arms, bar my Cell n sell my Soul, sow the Seed n reap its Rose. Mirror Mirror on the Wall; flaunt my Card n guard the Door. Youre the one im steering Clear of... ..."ofCourse you are." Mirror Mirror on the Wall; all i Know is no ones Lost, mossy Oak is all i Know, frozen Walls i call my Home. Mirror Mirror on the Wall; all you Are ish ards of Glass; lashing Out n always Laughing, laughing as you watch me Ball. Mirror Mirror on the Wall; all you Do is use my Tears. here you Are with all the Cotton, swabbing all my flaws n Fears. Mirror Mirror on the Wall; call me what you always Do: stupid Queer n weird n Ugly."dont ******* Tell me what to Do." Mirror Mirror on the Wall; talk the way you always Have: Chanting like a ******* Trucker, Cussing like a ******* Sailor. Mirror Mirror on the Wall; Hollow be my only Name. satan stole my only Halo: angel of a broken Cross. Mirror Mirror on the Wall; Follow me n see my View. you should see what i have Saw... ...all ive seen is You. Mirror Mirror on the Wall; all you Are is all i Am. have you not a ******* Conscience?... ..."obviously Not." Mirror Mirror on the Wall; walk a long this haunted Path. after That if you can Laugh... ...so can I. Mirror Mirror on the Wall; all youve Done is run n Hide. 'and Then... ...tyler was Gone. was iaSleep?... ...had  i Slept?' -  Jack's Medulla Oblongata   .
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Sep 8, 2014
Sep 8, 2014 at 6:51 PM UTC
iMaginary "Friend"
. Mirror Mirror on the Wall; Walk with me n be my Friend: fending oFF thee awful Qualm, calming all the thoughts of Death. Mirror Mirror on the Wall; Talk to me if no one Else. "tell me what to do aGain?... ...death is gonna Haunchew." Mirror Mirror on the Wall, Waltzing in my ball of Hair; share the Yarn of all you Bear, spare the Rod n chop the Sheers. Mirror Mirror on the Wall; "Welcome to the slums of Hell." help me Speak in bleeding Tongue. "vi la Vita......vi de Vel". Mirror Mirror on the Wall: wall of Talking thought so Clear; hear the Fall of waldo's Water, thrall the Call of ocean Odlaw. Mirror Mirror on the Wall; call my Bluff n cuff my Arms, bar my Cell n sell my Soul, sow the Seed n reap its Rose. Mirror Mirror on the Wall; flaunt my Card n guard the Door. Youre the one im steering Clear of... ..."ofCourse you are." Mirror Mirror on the Wall; all i Know is no ones Lost, mossy Oak is all i Know, frozen Walls i call my Home. Mirror Mirror on the Wall; all you Are ish ards of Glass; lashing Out n always Laughing, laughing as you watch me Ball. Mirror Mirror on the Wall; all you Do is use my Tears. here you Are with all the Cotton, swabbing all my flaws n Fears. Mirror Mirror on the Wall; call me what you always Do: stupid Queer n weird n Ugly."dont ******* Tell me what to Do." Mirror Mirror on the Wall; talk the way you always Have: Chanting like a ******* Trucker, Cussing like a ******* Sailor. Mirror Mirror on the Wall; Hollow be my only Name. satan stole my only Halo: angel of a broken Cross. Mirror Mirror on the Wall; Follow me n see my View. you should see what i have Saw... ...all ive seen is You. Mirror Mirror on the Wall; all you Are is all i Am. have you not a ******* Conscience?... ..."obviously Not." Mirror Mirror on the Wall; walk a long this haunted Path. after That if you can Laugh... ...so can I. Mirror Mirror on the Wall; all youve Done is run n Hide. 'and Then... ...tyler was Gone. was iaSleep?... ...had  i Slept?' -  Jack's Medulla Oblongata   .
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73
We can always arm ourselves, said Epicurus; against all sorts of things, but when it comes to death, we are under the constant, universal misconception that we are somehow able to emerge from our defenseless citadel unscathed. Step outside the citadel singular obscurity. Medulla Oblongata. Listen...listen...RATS! Send in the snakes! The door slams Sisyphus' boulder Into the ocean Splash-ripple, dripple, burn the strip. Abort the trip! A Singular Obscurity ...
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May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 2:16 PM UTC
The Birth of the Ether, or the Rise of Human Disconnection
Dear God. i hope You’re listening, i need to get close. im steady running in the same position. i can’t get close. my fingers hurt because i’ve been trying to pen down a letter to her & me & You for me. im trying to be good. these past few days i’ve been trying to get my thoughts in unison. working on harmonizing my processes & prioritizing my priorities. im going to be raw. i wrote letters to her but every single time i think of sending them to her, i remember that i won’t get much weight with my actions. so i throw them away. im steady running in the same position. she’s been thugging lately, in a good way. i won’t even try to make sense tonight, i’ll let words flow. ****** of the youthful mind, hold me. play softly, the strings at the back of my mind. be attentive, this tune will catch you. she’s stroking my medulla oblongata, painting vivid images of passion. steady running in the same position. ever looked at someone and feel a conversation going on between your souls? no verbal action, just distance & the space between the two of you. im steady running from nymphos of the youthful mind. Father, hope You’re listening. help me to not bend Your will. i’ve been good. dry cleaned my suit, im ready to walk with You. i need to get close. but i can’t get close to You. but im steady running in the same position. ****** of the youthful mind, tell me what do you want me to do to help you, help me, help you. she’s been straight thugging. ever been so close to a beautiful conversation yet words halt at the opening and you’re left stuck with regret? days later, you remake the scenario and polish on what you could’ve said. i wrote a letter to her & me & you for me. but i threw it away. wouldn’t have made a significant change anyway. ****** of the youthful mind, i need to get close. but im steady running in the same position. she’s been thugging. hat low, sweatpants low, afro hair, smooth skin, smooth **** dancing under the moonlight. scorpion eyes, deadly eyes. i need to get close. ****** of the youthful mind, my gangster, i need you to stroke my medulla and play a thousand songs at the back of my mind. im not trying to make sense, i was just trying to let thoughts flow. Dear Father, can i run away? i want to run away with her, to a place nobody knows. us. but please help me not to bend Your will. send me to a golden forest, to the Garden of Eden, so she & i can be Adam & Eve. we will be good. before then, i need to get close. ****** sing. sing me to sleep, sing away my troubles. i will run away with you. Father, hope You’re listening. i need to get close, help me not to bend Your will. but i can’t get close. to You. open the gates for me, im outside. i need to take control of me and pour out vibes so hard the universe capsizes. ****** of the youthful mind, run away with me. i wrote a letter to her & i & you for me. but then i threw it away. don’t even try and make sense of the words i wrote. don’t ask me how im feeling, just keep your eye on the poetry. TeddyBearTribe.
0
Oct 31, 2013
Oct 31, 2013 at 3:51 PM UTC
Nymphos
Dear God. i hope You’re listening, i need to get close. im steady running in the same position. i can’t get close. my fingers hurt because i’ve been trying to pen down a letter to her & me & You for me. im trying to be good. these past few days i’ve been trying to get my thoughts in unison. working on harmonizing my processes & prioritizing my priorities. im going to be raw. i wrote letters to her but every single time i think of sending them to her, i remember that i won’t get much weight with my actions. so i throw them away. im steady running in the same position. she’s been thugging lately, in a good way. i won’t even try to make sense tonight, i’ll let words flow. ****** of the youthful mind, hold me. play softly, the strings at the back of my mind. be attentive, this tune will catch you. she’s stroking my medulla oblongata, painting vivid images of passion. steady running in the same position. ever looked at someone and feel a conversation going on between your souls? no verbal action, just distance & the space between the two of you. im steady running from nymphos of the youthful mind. Father, hope You’re listening. help me to not bend Your will. i’ve been good. dry cleaned my suit, im ready to walk with You. i need to get close. but i can’t get close to You. but im steady running in the same position. ****** of the youthful mind, tell me what do you want me to do to help you, help me, help you. she’s been straight thugging. ever been so close to a beautiful conversation yet words halt at the opening and you’re left stuck with regret? days later, you remake the scenario and polish on what you could’ve said. i wrote a letter to her & me & you for me. but i threw it away. wouldn’t have made a significant change anyway. ****** of the youthful mind, i need to get close. but im steady running in the same position. she’s been thugging. hat low, sweatpants low, afro hair, smooth skin, smooth **** dancing under the moonlight. scorpion eyes, deadly eyes. i need to get close. ****** of the youthful mind, my gangster, i need you to stroke my medulla and play a thousand songs at the back of my mind. im not trying to make sense, i was just trying to let thoughts flow. Dear Father, can i run away? i want to run away with her, to a place nobody knows. us. but please help me not to bend Your will. send me to a golden forest, to the Garden of Eden, so she & i can be Adam & Eve. we will be good. before then, i need to get close. ****** sing. sing me to sleep, sing away my troubles. i will run away with you. Father, hope You’re listening. i need to get close, help me not to bend Your will. but i can’t get close. to You. open the gates for me, im outside. i need to take control of me and pour out vibes so hard the universe capsizes. ****** of the youthful mind, run away with me. i wrote a letter to her & i & you for me. but then i threw it away. don’t even try and make sense of the words i wrote. don’t ask me how im feeling, just keep your eye on the poetry. TeddyBearTribe.
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41
Philosophical epistemology strumming adventures Albeit, coherent mental decoding stratifications structured Supposedly our world rests in our minds, revolving knowledge An entwine of conceptual abstract flowing within oneself The mind in the “I” the “I” a reality lived in my experiences George of Leontini, a mine mind approving solipsism exploring innatism Imaginative insights that nothing exists, the secrets secreting secrets The knowledge behind the veils that remains un-communicated A reverse of normality and known existences, moral disposition Hypothesis of depersonalizations, adventures of self internalization Justifications for what lies outside the Medulla Oblongata Skepticism and just alternatives to western philosophy Subjective unapproved experiences only robust in one’s mind Descartes abstraction of inner experiences, reciprocated paradigm Intuitively, perceived lived formulations of "Cogito Ergo Sum" Psychological conscious undoubted individualistic thoughts Berkley explored perspectives that physicality is an embodiment of the mind The mind a decoding visualizer, that encompass the non-existent An idealism marriage of ‘metaphysical’ and epistemological philosophy The intense esoteric “dualism” verses the fiery “monism” reality Mind boggling differentiated truths bleeding with blinking unresolvable hypothesis The jiggered methodological, streamlining the un -logic sequential beats
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Feb 19, 2016
Feb 19, 2016 at 11:56 AM UTC
Solipsism Quandary
I saw you I saw your brain spilling out its cerebellum, medulla oblongata, etc All over- unrecognizable indistinguishable I saw I thought those were some kind of pink pulses Lord knows, weirder things have been found and seen I saw I saw I hope there is justice for you I will pray for your soul My soul will meet yours when the knell rings for me I hope you find peace I hope you know that I called And called and tried and tried To help you even though you were already gone I saw your friend- his eyes, his expression I really did try Please find yourself another life I hope your friend finds peace Knows it wasn't all his fault I hope his eyes lose the haunted shocked expression I really wish he can drive again I hope he can continue working - he looked like one of those people you know those ones? working hard to make it out of drudgery? I hope he makes it through this And I really really wish you guys hadn't had a fight before this Find peace Go safe Go softly Your death was sudden Ripped out of this earth Like you were never meant to exist That was meant to be me I hope it didn't hurt too much And those ******** that did this to you? I hope they didn't mean it I wish they hadn't been high before this Your death shouldn't be meaningless And although You might be simply another obituary in tomorrow's newspaper This poem will say *"I saw you. I prayed for you. I greeted you. I witnessed your existence. You meant something Just as your death did. I wish you peace and that you go Safely, soundly Wishing you that your loved ones Remember you with love And maybe some heartbreak But they find strength. Tonight, I s   a   w You"*
0
Jan 2, 2015
Jan 2, 2015 at 1:18 PM UTC
hit and run
I saw you I saw your brain spilling out its cerebellum, medulla oblongata, etc All over- unrecognizable indistinguishable I saw I thought those were some kind of pink pulses Lord knows, weirder things have been found and seen I saw I saw I hope there is justice for you I will pray for your soul My soul will meet yours when the knell rings for me I hope you find peace I hope you know that I called And called and tried and tried To help you even though you were already gone I saw your friend- his eyes, his expression I really did try Please find yourself another life I hope your friend finds peace Knows it wasn't all his fault I hope his eyes lose the haunted shocked expression I really wish he can drive again I hope he can continue working - he looked like one of those people you know those ones? working hard to make it out of drudgery? I hope he makes it through this And I really really wish you guys hadn't had a fight before this Find peace Go safe Go softly Your death was sudden Ripped out of this earth Like you were never meant to exist That was meant to be me I hope it didn't hurt too much And those ******** that did this to you? I hope they didn't mean it I wish they hadn't been high before this Your death shouldn't be meaningless And although You might be simply another obituary in tomorrow's newspaper This poem will say *"I saw you. I prayed for you. I greeted you. I witnessed your existence. You meant something Just as your death did. I wish you peace and that you go Safely, soundly Wishing you that your loved ones Remember you with love And maybe some heartbreak But they find strength. Tonight, I s   a   w You"*
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62
To me, you have always been a reflex as natural as vomiting, coughing, and sneezing (albeit more pleasant— sometimes). Somewhere in my medulla oblongata, something is telling me to love you but I suppose that something might be tainted by a ghastly neurological disorder because this just isn’t working out.
0
May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 8:56 PM UTC
biological break-up poem
I remember a lot, though there are compartments of this upper story storage house with bolted doors. There have been hours, even days spent picking at combination locks, soft clicks of medulla oblongata. From within, such malodor,  bleeds ooze and **** Constant mopping of icky memory's seepage, trickling from underneath hatchway is unending, so I often walk away. Knowing what lies behind vaulted chambers of grey matter is indeed the greyest matter, as nothing is quite so black or white.
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Dec 28, 2015
Dec 28, 2015 at 10:34 AM UTC
Battleship Grey
I guess it's no longer a Secret By now, you are fully aware that I admire you Your smile makes it impossible For me not to Its such a blessing to Be able to inhale the carbon dioxide That you exhale Filling my lungs with a kindliness that Not even Hathor herself possessed With a kiss sweeter than Hershey... And Godiva chocolates combined With a smile that could Illuminate the darkest hour Your hug feel as if you can Calm an angry alligators medulla oblongata Flight or fight huh? Well... I promise to fight to Send you on first class flights Sharks and whales swimming under Heated glass floors Even though you deserve Mansions with pearly gates And roads cemented with gold You're my calming lifeline Every time I look into your eyes I see a perfectly imperfect forever
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Mar 16, 2018
Mar 16, 2018 at 2:45 AM UTC
Secret Admirer
outward brain stem hummock      analogously, (asper bound minuscule magnum opus)      figuratively paginated with drowned atavistic animal instincts      roar back to life upon found perceived or real threat adrenaline      splashes cerebral hemispheres      triggering body electric      to become alert as a blood hound countless millenniums ago the flight or fight reaction apropos when savage beasts      threatened tribe with bro whizzing primitive creatures some forced tweet crow wing, thence railing, swooping,      trouncing dough main housing small cluster of emo ting primates (gabbling in primal      grunts and groans witnessing ruminants      scurrying to and fro survival of the fittest danger field      thus by dint of inherent smarts didst grow outwitting wily coyote, or other lion eyes, *** ping automatic saving grace tactics recalled, when looming predator doth woof      and warp emergency arises,      when debacle fore stalled for time against getting mauled whereby each subsequent ruse out foxing fierce-some, hungry non a mew zing potential breakfast, lunch,      or dinner as the sorry loo sir aye sic newt ton, sans this non nonsense game of "Life",      which thru countless millenniums strategies grew layered upon left and right cerebral hemispheres few till hetty became diminished      as con tra bands of bipedal hominids drew upon accumulated storied history      learned from Bubba Zayda's      many times over motley crew squirreling modus operandi      wove (traversing eons)      corpus collosum hair      (more so nerve fiber weave a microscopic whirled wide web linkedin      left and right fist size gray matter      coated with transparent integument      custom made swiftly tailored sleeve ah...proving grounds,      when forebears of **** Sapiens      touch and go tagged on permanent leave      on par with imagining dragons easy to believe.
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Mar 17, 2018
Mar 17, 2018 at 7:22 PM UTC
Quiescence Pervades Medulla Oblongata
outward brain stem hummock      analogously, (asper bound minuscule magnum opus)      figuratively paginated with drowned atavistic animal instincts      roar back to life upon found perceived or real threat adrenaline      splashes cerebral hemispheres      triggering body electric      to become alert as a blood hound countless millenniums ago the flight or fight reaction apropos when savage beasts      threatened tribe with bro whizzing primitive creatures some forced tweet crow wing, thence railing, swooping,      trouncing dough main housing small cluster of emo ting primates (gabbling in primal      grunts and groans witnessing ruminants      scurrying to and fro survival of the fittest danger field      thus by dint of inherent smarts didst grow outwitting wily coyote, or other lion eyes, *** ping automatic saving grace tactics recalled, when looming predator doth woof      and warp emergency arises,      when debacle fore stalled for time against getting mauled whereby each subsequent ruse out foxing fierce-some, hungry non a mew zing potential breakfast, lunch,      or dinner as the sorry loo sir aye sic newt ton, sans this non nonsense game of "Life",      which thru countless millenniums strategies grew layered upon left and right cerebral hemispheres few till hetty became diminished      as con tra bands of bipedal hominids drew upon accumulated storied history      learned from Bubba Zayda's      many times over motley crew squirreling modus operandi      wove (traversing eons)      corpus collosum hair      (more so nerve fiber weave a microscopic whirled wide web linkedin      left and right fist size gray matter      coated with transparent integument      custom made swiftly tailored sleeve ah...proving grounds,      when forebears of **** Sapiens      touch and go tagged on permanent leave      on par with imagining dragons easy to believe.
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53
I feel myself atrophy Thoughts, splayed like beautiful, oiled legs in a ******* centerfold... Thoughts, disarrayed in a state of feeble decay I'm taken apart, deconstructed What's a brain, with a broken vessel, what's a spine, when the medulla oblongata, falls, to a gelatinous mush? put me away, piece by piece in boxes that open, to reveal, smaller boxes, and smaller boxes still I become...miniscule... miniature inconsequential, in the great nature of things a little wooden matryoshka doll, being peeled from its shell layer by layer... but what if the innermost chamber is hidden, under lock and key and what if you crack it open, to find your fingers are smeared, in the pungency, of my blood? It matters not... I drift skyward...no tether, to pull me down, to earth again and there's not enough oxygen, to breathe, as I drift through space... but if I return to Earth... the sudden resurgence of gravity will bring me crashing, to the ground. ...And it all...Goes...Black.
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Jul 21, 2025
Jul 21, 2025 at 12:17 PM UTC
Untethered (TW)
Freuds lament meant that a pen is a ***** I comment Hi I am Sebastian I’m an addict Addicted to frantic erratic language In what language am I babbling in - can’t quit - can't resist Grappling this black pen with smeared hands Grasp the ******* thing And ink Panicking again Where squids swam Here stands a weird man Trapped in a stare match With miasmic abyss It’s scary **** As hearing camera flashes Dancing bare *** Unaware as to where the camera is Can’t fathom it An ensnaring act Grabbing talons Talented career paths Disappear fast With mirror battling The mere craftsmanship And mad man’s wit Embarrassing as still asking, unaware as to what is happening With clear answers apparent still Years pass years after still ain’t clear after asking this This is maddening Reappearing patterns still amass And thinking different things will happen if in fact I can persist The same **** happens That ***** batshit What if This madness catches That is bad As lit matches Catching mattress lint I fear I did damage to my Amygdala oblongata as a kid Again and again Damm habits Still I amass amazing Paragraphs saturations A hue is soothing To translucent humans Like my time as a youth spent School bench doodling Pulled the blue pen through the movements maneuvered cerulean loops drew huge dudes and exuberant protruding ***** for my youths amusement Nowadays I fetching the meddling Red pen sent from heaven making corrections, leveling mistakes begging for a reckoning, making more of less, settling scores, enabling communications less deafening, less beckoning, helping to get a sense of my best and when i left my element. what I might write with my white pen is silence, enticing I think.
0
Mar 31, 2018
Mar 31, 2018 at 7:25 AM UTC
First time at The Dan
Freuds lament meant that a pen is a ***** I comment Hi I am Sebastian I’m an addict Addicted to frantic erratic language In what language am I babbling in - can’t quit - can't resist Grappling this black pen with smeared hands Grasp the ******* thing And ink Panicking again Where squids swam Here stands a weird man Trapped in a stare match With miasmic abyss It’s scary **** As hearing camera flashes Dancing bare *** Unaware as to where the camera is Can’t fathom it An ensnaring act Grabbing talons Talented career paths Disappear fast With mirror battling The mere craftsmanship And mad man’s wit Embarrassing as still asking, unaware as to what is happening With clear answers apparent still Years pass years after still ain’t clear after asking this This is maddening Reappearing patterns still amass And thinking different things will happen if in fact I can persist The same **** happens That ***** batshit What if This madness catches That is bad As lit matches Catching mattress lint I fear I did damage to my Amygdala oblongata as a kid Again and again Damm habits Still I amass amazing Paragraphs saturations A hue is soothing To translucent humans Like my time as a youth spent School bench doodling Pulled the blue pen through the movements maneuvered cerulean loops drew huge dudes and exuberant protruding ***** for my youths amusement Nowadays I fetching the meddling Red pen sent from heaven making corrections, leveling mistakes begging for a reckoning, making more of less, settling scores, enabling communications less deafening, less beckoning, helping to get a sense of my best and when i left my element. what I might write with my white pen is silence, enticing I think.
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55
most instances when i initially seat myself priming creative literary juices to flow, an unspecified number hours elapse before that eureka i.e. Jackie Oh revelation transpires witnessing, this scruffy, prickly, and madly scratching itchy hairs dotting chinny chin chin of this hobo hook huns hitters hymns elf tubby a generic home er run (hitting) mill (on the floss sing false teeth) common everyday fluky, nippy, nap noopy Joe, whence upon gestation ova hen chic idea (Egg heads, merely scrambled random thought fragments at that stage) scrunching brow activates laser focus, a scattershot burst of tangential thread populate formerly barren tabula rasa, sans, Lenovo external screen once again defying (tomb me akin to some eternal mystery), trucked since time immemorial inexplicable, that sudden ignition asper cerebral automatic catalytic converter kickstarter (hmm...perhaps cogs and gears housed within medulla oblongata) foster fecund fertilization, an inexplicable phenomena, I dune hot know explanation, but upon advent whence, wispy vague undefinable inchoate coalesce analogous to genesis of animal new life when there appears just the merest hint of fledgling wispy notions strive similar to ***** cells fervently whipsawing vis a vis, via flagellation motility misfits and false starts before this crotchety scribe mollycoddles crux of embryonic idea congeals, expresses, and forms grandiose manifest destiny mentioned above i.e. ** Lee Judas Priest remaining catharsis seems like a versatile self determining tour de force whereat fingers of the lefthand move of their own volition spilling forth poe whet tree once expended leaves (of grass) finds me Walt sing whit man nigh hick cull tickled pink with a soft after glow.
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Mar 7, 2018
Mar 7, 2018 at 11:37 PM UTC
From Blank Screen To Logorrhea
most instances when i initially seat myself priming creative literary juices to flow, an unspecified number hours elapse before that eureka i.e. Jackie Oh revelation transpires witnessing, this scruffy, prickly, and madly scratching itchy hairs dotting chinny chin chin of this hobo hook huns hitters hymns elf tubby a generic home er run (hitting) mill (on the floss sing false teeth) common everyday fluky, nippy, nap noopy Joe, whence upon gestation ova hen chic idea (Egg heads, merely scrambled random thought fragments at that stage) scrunching brow activates laser focus, a scattershot burst of tangential thread populate formerly barren tabula rasa, sans, Lenovo external screen once again defying (tomb me akin to some eternal mystery), trucked since time immemorial inexplicable, that sudden ignition asper cerebral automatic catalytic converter kickstarter (hmm...perhaps cogs and gears housed within medulla oblongata) foster fecund fertilization, an inexplicable phenomena, I dune hot know explanation, but upon advent whence, wispy vague undefinable inchoate coalesce analogous to genesis of animal new life when there appears just the merest hint of fledgling wispy notions strive similar to ***** cells fervently whipsawing vis a vis, via flagellation motility misfits and false starts before this crotchety scribe mollycoddles crux of embryonic idea congeals, expresses, and forms grandiose manifest destiny mentioned above i.e. ** Lee Judas Priest remaining catharsis seems like a versatile self determining tour de force whereat fingers of the lefthand move of their own volition spilling forth poe whet tree once expended leaves (of grass) finds me Walt sing whit man nigh hick cull tickled pink with a soft after glow.
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52
Sweet words are like malaria Weapons, weapons, weapons Guard your pons and cerebellum
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Sep 18, 2019
Sep 18, 2019 at 9:21 PM UTC
medulla oblongata or an amygdala mandala
'er pons and medulla oblongata makes Annie the ****** a bit smarter than the average gal, joe pete or al and her mystery is - pro rata.
0
May 5, 2018
May 5, 2018 at 11:59 AM UTC
Untitled
Whirring spinning constantly working flinging rando retarding  constable to beat the **** out of my  medulla oblongata Oh my god i gatta get it all on paper before the pressure overloads and blows my ******* brains out my ears
0
Dec 25, 2016
Dec 25, 2016 at 10:09 AM UTC
Pressure man
Coquetry & smiling Relaxing & healing If ain't friendship, Then It's love... If ain't magic , Then it's chemistry.. Melody throbs And shink out Felicity To thy glumly soul. For thy is too righteous To be true. You stranger If not a dream Well it's a fantasy For my lashes blink each second To your presence. You stranger Is it what I see Or maybe the affection got to me? It is he who my heart throbs for, He is the strangest stranger Strangely possessing my heart and medulla oblongata with strange affection  & thoughts.
0
Apr 10, 2020
Apr 10, 2020 at 6:45 PM UTC
You stranger