"operates" poems
Radness
The Philosopher’s Stone is not just a spiritual metaphor but an actual substance that can transmute lead or mercury into gold. The Stone is a product of Alchemy. Unlike chemistry, which only deals with physical matter and energy, Alchemy makes use of etheric and astral energies to reconfigure matter at the quantum level. Alchemy is to chemistry what a cube is to the square; it is a superset of chemistry and is capable of so much more.
How Etheric Energy Overrides Physical Laws
Alchemical achievements require successfully gathering, concentrating, and multiplying etheric energy. When this energy reaches a critical threshold, it overpowers the normal laws of physics and allows seemingly miraculous processes to take place. I believe it does this by biasing probability. By amplifying the probability of minor quantum effects, which are normally limited to the subatomic scale, they manifest on the larger atomic scale. In this way, one element spontaneously transforms into another.
The world around us is made of subatomic particles that regularly undergo unpredictable jumps, teleportation, bilocation, superposition, and other strange quantum behaviors. Why don’t everyday solid objects do likewise? Because the random quantum jittering of their subatomic particles collectively average out to zero. Think of a large crowd of people; seen from the air, the crowd as a whole is stationary, even though individuals within the crowd move in seemingly random directions. It’s because their movements are random and uncoordinated that they average to zero net movement on the whole.
The world we see around us is merely a crowd of subatomic particles whose individual quantum jumps aren’t apparent because they average to collective stillness. Physical laws that govern our everyday world, known as the deterministic laws of classical physics, are merely the laws of the crowd. These laws are what’s left of quantum physics after the unpredictability is removed through statistical averaging. They are not absolute laws; they are just the most probable manner in which matter and energy behave.
Physical laws can be bent. While the probability is incredibly low that enough coordination and coherence develops among the quantum jitters to manifest on a collective scale, that is exactly what etheric energy does. It alters probability and thereby skews the laws of thermodynamics, gravity, electromagnetism, and chemistry.
Alchemy does not violate the laws of physics, nor does it always follow them, rather it bends them as needed. It operates upon the quantum foundation from which these laws arise in the first place, via etheric energy affecting the probability of quantum events.
May 28, 2013
May 28, 2013 at 8:59 PM UTC
here is now
to what the
heck?
jump out of this year
with that old joint attitude
and leave a mark
like it's too hot for me.
so quickly
that burden ate.
loved the way
he operates.
won't let us help.
needed it.
sounded good.
man, what's wrong with less?
let's meet up again sometime soon.
after a few more questions.
let's meetup somewhere
between
two am
and
here.
Aug 24, 2015
Aug 24, 2015 at 6:24 AM UTC
Adulthood is never initiated
on a birthday,
the obligation to pay the bills,
or even the freedom
to eat those two desserts,
but rather when you realize that childhood
has been terminated—the stage
where you sigh and suppose
that magic was just an illusion
when you finally see how
the real world operates.
Sep 21, 2011
Sep 21, 2011 at 9:30 PM UTC
are you generally happy?
a semi-innocuous query
now actualized as a two sided bladed poker,
hot stabbing me smack dab in
the chests hollow crown bullseye,
continuously, as in all life long, and eternal longing for a
“yes”
it fits inside a pubescent aged wound that
refreshes with every breath;
a life long struggle for an accurate definition,
be a general of genuine happy,
that alone would deliver, bringing on bright day satisfaction
as a human, one operates on parallel continuums;
slide slipping on well oiled poles that over the years,
their lengths, increasing with add-on extender poles
formed by
twisty turny slips and falls of sundered hearts and sad loves,
marriages nicknamed Titanic, children found and lost,
complications responsibilities that are denied meeting the words
“The End”
a life that many would envy, questioning what’s wrong
with you dude, are you blinded to the riches yours,
reality is
shoulders permanently bent, a spine that’s held together by
spit and solder and curved by wearying wearing longing for
a straightness that is also called crooked unobtainable
and a piece of a peace that comes and goes
like a highway billboard that you pass too fast to be fully read
the body is corroding and worser yet to come and that’s a hand
you selected - luck of the self-selecting-drawing -
the opioids of the mind offers are rejected
the clarity of painful self exploration valued overall -
the place where the poems come from,
and go to die,
a landscape of a scene repeatedly visualized
but never been and never left,
the crazy contradictions come in two flavors;
vanilla smiles and chocolate weeping of tears that have
etched pathways cheek-chiseled
the city is a struggling strife for most,
the next red line on the side
of the measuring cup and
everyone has a cell, a credit card,
and a measuring cup
<•>
here I stop can’t finish
someone missing alerts me
to their real worlds troubles
making my complaints super superficial but
the silent running of the stilleto
cuts shallow
repeated hourly
the cut color,
pitch black
May 26, 2018
May 26, 2018 at 2:05 PM UTC
They say this.
We do that.
They do this.
We say that.
Characteristic differences.
We live here.
They live there.
They live there.
We live here.
Break down the walls.
And watch the ways problems disappears.
They know us.
We know them.
They think this.
They think that.
Characteristic differences.
Wrtie down on paper.
And notice the same situation.
We operates around illusion of what we think we know.
Until you in the same room.
And notice the many things in common.
Yes, characteristic differences.
Oct 15, 2012
Oct 15, 2012 at 6:54 AM UTC
What's wrong with the people and their religion?
People are living like they have no religion.
I think the whole world is addicted to the drama.
Only attracts religious hatred and to things that'll bring you trauma.
but if you only have love and respect for your own religion
Then you only leave space for discrimination
And discrimination only generates hate
And when you hate then you're bound to get irate.
From overseas we try to stop foreign influence
that break our unity and smile for each other.
But we still got racists here with no common sense.
Why forget the fact we all belong to the same mother?
Madness is what you demonstrate
And that's exactly how anger works and operates.
We all need love to get it straight!
Take control of your mind and meditate and let your soul gravitate!
Christian, Muslim, Buddhist, Hindu and others too.
Let the religions unity and love flow!
Open your eyes and awake!
You all are Sri Lankans for God's sake!
Dec 14, 2013
Dec 14, 2013 at 11:51 AM UTC
*******
hoes,
crazy,
*****
Catch me on a friday night,
and I might
say them all.
But what I say
and what I feel
is a different
thing.
Because *******
hoes,
womps,
don't have vocabularies
like boulders.
They can't destroy.
And with a new mindset,
I can say
a few things.
A ***** is a girl
without hope.
A ***
is a girl
that likes ****
and doesn't
like
love.
A crazy one
is a girl that gets by.
A ****
is a girl
that doesn't know the difference
between the three
and operates
on a thin line;
because *******
have treated her like ****
and no new ******
can make her think
any different.
But a girl,
alas
a
girl.
A girl
is full of love
and platitudes.
A girl
has her hands
on your heart
all the time.
She has a vocabulary
and says **** a Webster's
because she's got a new dictionary
that didn't even exist
before she let it out her mouth.
A girl
makes you re-define
the word
love,
with all its
futile resentment
and
disenchantment,
because she'll keep you coming
back
for more,
even as she says
"no,
you're talking crazy,
you gotta
go."
So trust me when I say this,
I could **** with a girl's head before,
but this girl
she's maneuvered me into thinking
about how ****** up
I
really
am.
And that's as smart
as
I've
ever
been.
Mar 21, 2012
Mar 21, 2012 at 11:29 AM UTC
like a vase i dropped her on the floor.
i'm not sure if i can put her back together.
she won't be the same but i have a feeling
she has been broken apart and put back together.
you can't trust a man who
operates a bulldozer to be a
good builder.
they say "things have to fall to
make way for better things";
i dare not say this to her, she might
think i did it on purpose.
i don't trust myself to not drop
her again after i've put her back
together.
i've thought about handing her
over to someone else to piece back
together; i don't trust anyone will
know exactly where each piece
has to go.
you can easily replace a broken
vase, unlike people.
May 10, 2015
May 10, 2015 at 9:08 AM UTC
Whether it's an eight/twelve hours or more shift.
I SALUTE all men and women that daily places their life in danger.
Behind walls of correctional institution enhancing rules and regulation to inmates.
Of course you find that familiar one professing like it's an honor to be called convict.
Over phases of offender or inmate.
Unlike those street enforcers with weapons.
The only one you have is your vocal tones to control.
A prayer said daily, if you are of faith to calm your day.
Hold truth that any second, minute anything might happen.
While many families failed to comprehend you didn't make their child apart of the correctional system.
That was their child decision.
It takes strength and fearlessness to operate behind fences.
To be that honest officer following the rules.
For even some co-workers eventually ends up behind these same various walls.
RESPECT is an earned trade and trait.
Like your word is your bond.
But in a place that operates twenty four seven.
Your work is never done.
So to all correctional officers I SALUTE YOU!
Jul 1, 2017
Jul 1, 2017 at 6:36 PM UTC
death is make-up for the interview. when I get to my mother I plan to visit the city. I hear a gang of young girls operates there trafficking middle aged men who act old. I hear what I want when I delete emails. I lost not touching my mother soon after she stopped being an actress. she fled my father who at the time was known as her live-in stunt double. I put my fist in the air and waited. some told me I was being cinematic. still some told me I was being cinematic.
May 22, 2013
May 22, 2013 at 3:06 PM UTC
Astral architecture hangs on the balance of my once fragile mind, now unbound and open to the potential of the Penrose Stairs that I climb. Infinity, I thought, was an innate idea man was not meant to understand, because if the universe is in fact infinite, into what does it expand?
Standing at the precipice of epiphany, teetering at the very cusp of clarity, it came to me in a monumental moment of sibylline singularity:
It expands into itself.
The thought was too profound to perceive, too ravenous to be satiated. Could this be at long last, the answer for which I have waited?
I realized that consciousness operates under a similar uniformity: the brain won't outgrow the head, but the mind will outgrow the body, and our echoes will radiate across the endlessness of existence, for all our forgotten frequencies are oblivious to the concept of distance.
We are all limitless beneath the veil of this perceived reality,
but only there are we human, and only then are we free.
Feb 20, 2017
Feb 20, 2017 at 10:27 PM UTC
She calls Him her boyfriend
But to Him, She is nothing but a Body to ****
Good girls go to heaven but
Bad girls with big ****
are everywhere looking for ***** to ****
Looking for loaded ****** to ****
l have been [Patient] for too long,
l think lm [sick]
Sick of these ****** Pretending to love when all
they after is *****
Sick of these ******* Pretending to love when
all they after
is taste of Pipi
Sick of ******* who cant see they is play
ground
and ****** is rolling ***** like is ball
They tell you is Hot even when you is not
you open ***** Hole,
Sperms and STDs float inside the Vigeegee
now you is sick, if only you had been patient
if only you was Patience
Im sick of ****** pretending that girls *******
are padlocks
and them ***** keys going around unlocking
as if they are good looking
****** dont make love they are UNLOCKING
*******
Bitchesfancy that his Tongue licks the
Vigeegee
chill, that's just LUBRICANT to make it slippery
when He operates you
Fingers you to make sure you ready for it
Figures you want it, makes you **** it like lolly
pop. then He makes your ***** swallow it
Unlocks the *****
Kisses you, making you drink the alcoholic
poison from His lips
then you get drunk in love
then your blood gets drunk in ***
then your **** gets drunk in *****
then you skip your periods you call Him he
picks up drunk telling you to **** off then you
realise late that you were a Padlock and He
was to unlock you
and you realise late that You Were just a BODY
TO ****
He lost nothing, but your
Innocence, dignity and virginity
perished.
But then you smile coz you played with His
**** too......
Aug 14, 2015
Aug 14, 2015 at 8:15 PM UTC
Once upon a time
This was known as "the river of many fish"
We are told this as children
like it's a fairytale
our parents, trying not to laugh
as they tell us of a time
long before their own
when this was the place to be
If you wanted to be somebody
you came to the town with the name you can't pronounce
and you could have your American Dream
Newly free men and women
arrived early and bright at our train station
their sleeves rolled up and heads held high
ready to kickstart their lives.
The gears of industry were turning here
in the land of wine and covered bridges.
Once upon a time
there was a trainwreck here
a lot of people lost their lives
even more lost their way
as time rusted over the wheels of progress
and our water
once so full of hope and prosperity
caught fire and burned for miles in all directions
scorching the water, and suffocating the fish
Today
this is "the river of much pollution"
We have always known it as such
A town were depression is both
a hereditary emotional and economic condition
Where pessimism is our only tradition
The train station no longer operates
The free man's grandchildren's children are up before the birds
trying to find a way to kickstart their high
chasing the American Delusion
"Ashtabula does not have a drug problem"
The police told a friend of mine
as her two year old daughter looked on curiously
at a strung out stranger who wandered into their home
and took their bathroom hostage for two hours
He shook uncontrollably
His eyes overflowing with emptiness
By the time the cops showed up, he was long gone
tossed back into the river
The fish in this water have nothing to lose
If evolution is true, we can sprout legs and lungs
crawl onto dry land and breathe
but the current prevents it here
It's hard to see the glass as half full
when you can't drink the water
I suppose we could drink the wine instead
and stumble inside of a bridge
seeking shelter from the toxic rain
Dec 20, 2009
Dec 20, 2009 at 4:10 PM UTC
it operates like a revolving door
there are no hinges
but it extends from ceiling to floor
it is fashioned out of multiple parts
in various geometrical shapes
each with an intricate pencil etched
message that speak of the ways
to reexamine the perplexity
of what remains behind the walls
of your bedchamber calls that
became trapped in long
recondite walkways and halls
May 7, 2015
May 7, 2015 at 1:18 AM UTC
He sweats when he poops,
Not just any old ****
A **** of glory,
A **** of a lifetime.
The kind of **** that jacks your heart rate,
The kind of **** that makes you breathe heavy,
A **** so intense that your bowels moan,
And generate a need to remove your shirt.
The cold, yet intense sweats of this ****
Cramps in the lower abdomen, sharp and warm,
The sweet relief of tension, when that one big log comes out,
All hot and steamy.
Followed by a stream of liquidy brown,
He wonders how his body even operates,
The unholiness of what exits through,
That holiest of holes, next to the birth stump and boulders.
Pondering the consumption of two nights before,
He sits bare-assed on this porcelain mouth,
Ingesting every bit of solids, liquids and gasses,
That exit from his **** canal.
Clothes tossed onto the floor,
His ******* harden from the unpleasant draft,
Caused by the perspired glands,
That shiver from trauma and nightly air.
Nov 25, 2023
Nov 25, 2023 at 6:52 PM UTC
While most people are familiar with
the principle of ‘sowing and reaping’,
it can be difficult to distinguish
between Fact and Fiction; gleaning
the Truth sometimes takes time, so
that the authentic and the fake can…
be properly separated. Sad jealousies
are found when the evil works of Man
bloom against the stark contrast of
God’s reality; seeing the good and bad,
subtly reinforces our understanding of
the wheat and tares; let us be glad,
in knowing how God divinely operates;
in Him, we can move and have our being
when our Faith is extended on behalf
of His Kingdom; when we are agreeing
with His Word, it’s easier to love and
care for others regularly, as we must;
will people observe us as His Children,
if we’re not placing in God… our trust?
Jan 27, 2017
Jan 27, 2017 at 2:09 PM UTC
We, all yearn for that type that others likes.
To men, it's the trophy on their arms.
To women, it's the pretty man will all the charm.
And with both.
We find love might not be involved.
And when pushed for this truth.
We goes into self denial.
Many good looking people lives a insecure existence.
Even, they ponder if they are being used.
But many play the game of acting.
Especially , if money is a factor.
But, when pushed for truth to this comment.
We see self denial.
If women are called goldiggers.
Then men deserves to be linked to flim flam.
They both operates behind a plan.
And yes.
When pushed for truth.
We see self denial as prove.
Except, we can see beyond the facade.
We know, we all can't get our way.
Oct 11, 2012
Oct 11, 2012 at 9:07 PM UTC
I make trips to the corner store, at 12 in the morning.
Calling all cars to get the **** out of the road,
I'm swerving.
Calling all lights,
blink and be gone. Streetlights,
stoplights, lamps, lighters,
blunt tips, cigarette butts,
all lights be gone.
Dear Earth, get low in the darkness.
On my first trip,
I was accosted by rabid dogs who drooled shoelaces
and I could tell they were being hounded
by the kilter of their angry maws
and sawed-off minds.
They barked like guns.
And they saw me--completely irrelevant---
popping caps off Lokos
taking sips that could **** up an Orca,
completely swimming.
I had to kick them home.
At work today,
Someone got caught stealing five pesos worth of food,
and got threatened with a felony,
but they've got some lint in their pocket,
and knew how to keep it cool.
My girlfriend operates in ideas.
I've been at work for so long,
that I yell and walk around,
like I'm in the shower.
Dec 15, 2013
Dec 15, 2013 at 10:35 AM UTC
Shortened by your own expectations
to a son, whose a workhorse.
who's under the shade of others,
ill and hidden under the rocks.
Under dog they say
does not brag any stellar milestone he's been in,
giving all the drastic efforts
but still gray and merely unseen.
Questioned himself
when he learned the term "black sheep"
Child in the heart, strong,
operates at his own risks.
of epic proportions and stars
he sees but only to himself,
hidden angst and questions to his own blood,
kept in the inner skirts of his chest.
A son, whose emerging,
underrated with his dreams.
a follower of the art
waiting until dawn, forever it seems.
May 17, 2013
May 17, 2013 at 6:04 AM UTC
I'm sure, its psychological just besides physical.
Cause I get so emotional just talking about her.
I don't need to pay anyone to analyze me.
For I'm very aware of, what ailing me?
Love always been a controlling form of humanity.
Where one tries to dictate a variety of things?
So, I write.
Write what about her keeps pulling me into her drama.
She's my woman.
More than a so called baby mama.
Just the term alone seems completely dumb.
It's not suiting to anyone.
Which makes it psychological to those that know me.
The mind operates like a computer screen.
Never aware when it will crash.
Jul 21, 2014
Jul 21, 2014 at 12:32 PM UTC
‘The time has come,’ he heard them say
Outside his tiny cell,
‘Go in and get the beast to pray
To save his soul from Hell.’
The Priest then walked up to the bars
And stated his intent,
‘Will you confess at last, my son?
Will you, at last, repent?’
‘The only thing that I repent,’
The prisoner said at last,
While staring at the Priestly face
At length, through double glass,
‘Is how your justice operates,
Your Judge sits on his bench,
Determines guilt before the trial
And brooks no argument.’
‘You have been tried by twelve and true
Your jurors had their say,
Condemned you as a murderer
Before they walked away.’
‘They would have found me innocent
Had he not been precise,
And sent them back to change their view,
Not only once, but twice.’
‘The law’s the law,’ the Priest replied,
‘The verdict said it’s you,
You had your day in court, and now
You’ll have to pay your due.’
‘I’m innocent,’ the prisoner said,
‘I swear it before God!’
‘Take not his name in vain, my son,
It’s time to reck his rod.’
‘Your God is just an ornament
To keep us fools in check,
If he were real, he’d swoop on down
And break the Judge’s neck.
The only God is in my heart
And he knows everything,
He welcomes us, the innocent,
Hypocrisy is sin.’
‘You risk your soul,’ the priest replied,
‘So hold your tongue in check,
For soon it will be silenced as
The rope, it breaks your neck.’
‘How many Nuns have you despoiled,
How many children died,
How many now lie buried, spread
Across the countryside?’
‘You hide behind your surplice, and
Your cassock and your gown,
You say you represent him, but
In fact, you put him down.
You tie us up with ritual
And steal our Peter’s Pence,
Then hide your sins by making all
The laity repent.’
‘I’ve had enough,’ the Priest replied,
Then turned and stepped aside,
The gaolers tied his hands and feet
And shuffled him outside,
They dragged him to the gallows and
Put on the dreaded hood,
But still he called, ‘Repent yourself,
Oh Priest! You know you should!’
It barely took a minute for
The rope and then the drop,
And then just twenty seconds for
His beating heart to stop,
The Priest’s thin hands had trembled
As he walked out in the cold,
And prayed, not for the prisoner,
But for his own poor soul.
His sins lay heavy on him as
He walked up to the nave,
Then knelt before the altar asking
God, his soul to save,
But God was strangely silent
And the Priest had felt like dross,
The morning saw him hanging
From the altar’s Holy Cross.
David Lewis Paget
Oct 8, 2013
Oct 8, 2013 at 12:36 PM UTC
Some of us have needs.
That we can't admit to ourselves.
It's that pride that keeps on hurting ourselves.
Some of us have wants.
That's not important to life.
It's that greed that drives us to want too much.
I need you.
This is surrounded by truth.
Me without you.
Is similar to love without a feeling.
I need you.
Truth comes from me admitting it.
Self denial sounds good.
Self denial sounds great.
But that's where stupidity operates.
And we all have made stupid mistakes.
Sep 19, 2012
Sep 19, 2012 at 5:19 PM UTC
Many live in this falsehood of truth.
Pretending to be something they are not.
When faced with truth and reality.
They still refuses to be set free.
The pretenders.
Trying to be, what they are not?
Many we notice exactly in church.
Respecting God world isn't requesting too much.
The pretenders.
They operates within the business world.
Trying to fit an image to enhance them.
The pretenders.
Just one step from admitting they are poor.
Notice the happiest people seems to be those
with less.
Because the riches of the rich seems to living in a nightmare.
We laugh.
We're amazed that many keeps fooling themselves.
But we know failure they can't simply accept.
All because they been pretending so much.
The pretenders.
Who forget in this world they have a important worth?
Jul 30, 2012
Jul 30, 2012 at 10:10 AM UTC
The waves of the ocean come and go
After a dark night, the sun will glow
The Law of Cycles operates everywhere on earth
And so, after we die, we come back in a Rebirth
What is the cause of this human birth?
What was the reason we came to earth?
We didn't decide where and when we were born
It was our Karma that sounded the horn
Therefore, when we see a child born blind
We ask, 'Is God unjust; is He so unkind?'
No, God isn't unkind, our Karma is the cause
We will Realize the Truth of birth, if we pause
As we sow, so shall we reap
On earth if we sin, we sure will weep
Such is the law, what we give, we get
Apples won't grow on a mango tree, that is a bet
The Law of Karma is a Universal Law
It makes no mistake, it has no flaw
Not only does it work everywhere on earth
Even after death, it causes our Rebirth
Death is certain, everybody must die
Nobody can escape, not you, nor I
But what is death, is it the final end?
No, it is not, it is just a bend
The body dies, it is burnt to dust
But the one who was alive, leaves like a gust
Don't we say that he passed away?
But where does he go, can anybody say?
We are sure that the one who died left
Otherwise, our loved ones would have the body kept
But who is the one that has left the body behind?
Is it ME, the Ego and the Mind?
The body is just an instrument to act
The mind and ego direct it, that's a fact
The body is born, and the body must die
But the mind and ego, escape in the sky
But where do the mind and ego go?
What happens after the end of the show?
To settle their Karma, they must return to earth
There is no other option, but to take rebirth
Is it true that we go to heaven and hell?
These fairy tales cast a spell!
Heaven and hell are not far away in the stars
We return to earth, to settle our scars
And so, the cycle goes on and on
We live, we die, and we are Reborn
As long as we live as this body and mind
The mind will be Reborn, the body left behind
But when we achieve our ultimate goal
When we realize we are the Divine Soul
Then, from Rebirth, we are free
And one with our Lord, forever we will be
But how can we become one with our Lord?
To escape from Rebirth and unite with God
When we overcome our ignorance and Realize the Truth
Then, we don't plant seeds, there will be no shoot
As long as seeds of Karma we plant
Escaping from Rebirth we just can’t
The body will die when it has no breath
But we will return after our death
As long as we are ignorant, we will be Reborn
There is no other option, but a body to adorn
But once we realize we are not the body, ego, or mind
We are free from Karma and rebirth, we will find
We have two options at the moment of death
Either we will be Reborn as we lose our breath
But if we realize we are the Divine Soul
We will Unite with God, our Ultimate Goal
So today, the mystery of Rebirth let us solve
To Realize the Truth, let us resolve
And be free from the triple suffering on earth
To become one with God, not return in a Rebirth
Let us realize we are not the body and mind
The body will die and mind will rewind
All the actions that it has done
Will transfer to a new life that’s begun
But if we Realize we are not the doer of action
Then of course there will be no reaction
Then we will be from Karma free
And not have to be Reborn, we agree
For Rebirth is only for the one who does
Who lives as the ego and makes a fuss
But one who lives as the Divine Soul
He is free, achieves the Ultimate Goal
This is the purpose of our life on earth
To live as Soul and be free from Rebirth
To Realize the Truth as we live and die
And to become one with the Lord in the sky
Oct 5, 2021
Oct 5, 2021 at 5:11 AM UTC
The traffic grid operates smoothly and seriously
Forwards and back, in rows and columns
Directions painted in asphalt, and hung from poles
The road's instructions are obeyed unflinchingly
All these drivers are too serious to do otherwise
As they rush off to their serious lives
The doctors are serious
The lawyers are serious
The cleaners are serious
The gardeners are serious
It seems everyone is serious but me
In the park, reading Kerouac against a tree.
Jul 28, 2010
Jul 28, 2010 at 5:07 PM UTC