they'll paint white walls over your thoughts
because they think simplicity looks better than polka dots.

they will strip you down to nothing
because bare is better than bare minimum.

they say your body is your canvas,
then why are they scribbling
on her canvas?

they’ll doodle words,
perhaps phrases of flatter
like "You're pretty"
teaching her that that's all that matters.

They'll hang up a **** model picture
because her body should look like this, you know?
Richer.

They'll say her body is a temple
“she's eating all that for lunch?”
they'll say her body is a temple
but her body
is the house
she grew up in
and yet you have the audacity to try and burn it down?

Oh
I forgot to mention
the white paint that they used to paint over her?
yeah ... slight misunderstanding
It's permanent.

what could they expect?
it's their fault actually,
it said everything on the label
but they were too busy you see.  
Too busy to see what it was really made out of, too busy to read what made it the way it was.
Because one glance is enough, right?

One glance is enough to ask her "what did you eat today?"
And as her stomach grumbled
and her blood ate her alive,
she would answer "oh plenty!"

And you would look happy with her answer because
she is treating her body like a house she doesn't even recognize.

And you would look happy with her answer because
she let her body become your canvas

And you would look happy with her answer because
Your white paint was worth your money after all.

If I had to
I would paint him like this;
His hair thick streaks, shielding
Hidden face, arms placed protectively
about a shield of strings, his
fingers float out joy.
My Boy
Lies immersed in his own
Invisible sound,
Happiness hidden, and found,
Underground.
Silence Sings Out Loud.

I would paint him like this.

If I had to
I would paint her like this;
Her hair tangled in a golden kiss
against the mischief of her
face, all sorrow erased
by half moons of mirth
Hands of Nurture placed
deep in the Earth.
In stability she is
free, in life
she is re-born,
eternally stubborn.

I would paint her like this.

If I had to
I would paint them like this;
Colours clashing to complete
the cadbury brown of hair,
Blue and Red swirling and
stairing their way down
to Purple.
If I were to paint them, I'd
create a staple of
a third and final
canvas.

Both Him & Her,
Boy and Girl,
complete
_ _
This is their
similarity.

Paint the night sky with twinkling stars, distant from one another but collectively emitting a spectacular glow;
Paint the spun ivory clouds across the interminable blue, watching the softness suffocate sunlight streaming below;
Paint your frayed chocolate braids beside curved, smiling full lips in the middle of a vivid, adorned cottage;
Paint the passionate red of blood that stains our hands as they clasp together like imperfect puzzle pieces, and the jagged breathing that fogs the dusk;
Paint yourself where you are loved--
Paint yourself with me.

Hotrod
Verse I

Wrenches clanging, knuckles banging
A drop of blood the young man spilt
A new part here, and old part… there
A hotrod had been built!
A patchwork, mechanical, quilt

Feeling good.  Head under a raised hood, hands occupied, the job nearing completion.  Sometimes the good feelings would dissipate though, as quickly as they came, as he cursed himself for stripping a bolt, or cursed someone else for selling him the wrong part, or the engineer whose design goals obviously did not consider “remove and replace”.
He cursed the “gorilla” that never heard of a torque-wrench, the glowing particle of **** that popped on to the top of his head as he welded, the metal chip he flushed from his eye, and even himself for the burn he received by impatiently touching something too soon after grinding. 
 He, and his type, cursed a lot, but mostly to their selves as they battled-on with things oily, hot, bolted, welded, and rusty – in cramped spaces. One day it was choice words for an “easy-out” that broke off next to a broken drill bit that had broken off in a broken bolt, that was being drilled for an easy-out. 
  Despite the swearing, the good and special feelings would always return, generally of a magnitude that exceeded the physical pain and mental frustration of the day, by a large margin.  
Certifiably obsessive, the young man continued to toil dutifully, soulfully, occasionally gleefully, sometimes even expertly, in his most loved and familiar place, his sanctuary, laboratory… the family garage.

And tomorrow would be the day.
With hard learned, hard earned expertise and confidence - in this special small place, a supremely happy and excited young man commanded his creation to life.

Threw a toggle, pressed a switch
Woke up the neighbors with that *******

The heart of his machine was a stroked Chevy engine that everyone had just grown sick hearing about.  Even the local machine shop to which the boy nervously entrusted his most prized possession had had enough.  “Sir, I don’t want to seem disrespectful, but from what I’ve read in Hot Rod Magazine, you might be suggesting a clearance too tight for forged pistons…” then it would be something else the next day.  
One must always speak politely to the machinist, and even though he always had, the usual allotment of contradictions and arguments afforded to each customer had long run out – and although the shop owner took a special liking to the boy because, as he liked to say, “he reminds me of me”, well, that man was done too.  But in the end, the mill was dead-on.  Of course from the start, the shop knew it would be; that’s almost always the case; it’s how they stay in business - simply doing good work.  Bad shops fall out quickly, but this place had the look of times gone by.  Good times. 
 Old porcelain signs, here and there were to be found, all original to the shop and revered by the older workers in honored nostalgia.  The younger workers get it too; they can tell from the co-workers they respect and learn from, there is something special about this past.  One sign advertises Carter Carburetors and the artwork depicts “three deuces”, model 97’s, sitting proudly atop a flathead engine, all speeding along in a red, open roadster.  Its occupants, a blond haired boy with slight freckles (driver), and a brunette girl passenger, bright white blouse, full and buttoned low. They are in the wind-blown cool, their excited expressions proclaim… "we have escaped and are free!" (and all you need is a Carter, or three).  How uniquely American.

The seasoned old engine block the boy entrusted to the shop cost him $120-even from the boneyard.  Not a bad deal for a good high-nickel content block that had never had its first 0.030”overbore.  In the shop, it was cleaned, checked for cracks by "magnafluxing", measured and re-measured, inspected and re-inspected.  It was shaped and cut in a special way that would allow the stroker crankshaft, that was to be the special part of this build, to have all the clearance it would need.  The engine block was fitted with temporary stress plates that mimic the presence of cylinder heads,  then the cylinders were bored to “first oversize”,  providing fresh metal for new piston rings to work against.  New bearings were installed everywhere bearings are required.  Parts were smoothed here and there.  Some surfaces were roughened just so, to allow new parts to “work-into each other” when things are finally brought together.  All of this was done with a level of precision and attention far, far greater than the old “4- bolt” had ever received at the factory on its way to a life of labor in the ¾ ton work van from which it came, and for which it had served so dutifully.  They called this painstaking dedication to precision measurement and fit, to hitting all specifications on the mark, “blueprinting”, and it would continue throughout the entire build of this engine.  The boy remained worried, but the shop had done it a million times.

After machining, the block was filled with new and strong parts that cost the young man everything he had.   Parts selected with the greatest of effort, decision, and debate.   You can compromise on paint and live with some rust,  he would say, wait for good tires, but never scrimp on the engine.  Right on.  Someone taught the boy right, regardless of whether or not he fully understood the importance of the words he parroted.  His accurate proclamation  also provided ample excuse for the rough, unfinished, underfunded look of the rest of his machine.  But it was just a look, his car was, in fact, “right”.   And its power plant?  Well the machine shop had talked their customer into letting them do the final engine assembly - even cut their price to do it.  To make that go down easy, they asked to have two of their shop decals affixed to the rod on race-days.  The young man thought that was a fair deal, but the shop was really just looking out for the boy, with their herring of sorts.  
The mill in its final form was the proper balance of performance and durability; and with its camshaft so carefully selected, the engine's “personality” was perfectly matched to the work at hand.   It would produce adequate torque in the low RPM range to get whole rig moving quickly, yet deliver enough horsepower near and at red-line to pile on the MPH, fast.  No longer a polite-natured workhorse, this engine, this engine is impatient now.  High compression, a rapid, choppy idle - it seems to be biting at the bit to be released.  On command, it gulps its mixture and screams angrily, and often those standing around have a reflexive jump - the louder, the better - the more angry, the better.  If it hurts your ears, that’s a good feeling.  If its bark startles, that’s a good startle.  A cacophony?  No, the “music” of controlled explosions, capable of thrusting everything and everyone attached, forward, impolitely, on a rapid run to the freedom so well depicted in the ad.  

This is the addictive sound and feel that has appealed to a certain type of person since engines replaced horses, and why?  A surrogate voice for those who are otherwise quiet?  A visceral celebration of accomplishment?    Who cares.  Shift once, then again - speed quickly makes its appearance.  It appears as a loud, rushing wind and a visually striking, unnatural view of the surrounding scenery.  At some point, in the sane, it triggers a natural response - better slow down.    

He uncorked the headers, bought gasoline, dropped her in gear, tore off to the scene
Camaros and Mustangs, an old ‘55
Obediently lined-up, to get skinned alive!

Verse II (1st person)

I drove past the banner that said “Welcome race fans” took a new route, behind the grandstands
And through my chipped window, I thought I could see
Some of the racers were laughing at me

I guess rust and primer are not to their taste
But I put my bucks mister in the right place

I chugged/popped past cars that dealers had sold
Swung into a spot, next to something old

Emerging with interest from under his hood
My neighbor said two words, he said, “sounds good”

The Nova I parked next to was “classic rodding” in its outward appearance.  The much overused “primer paint job”.  The hood and front fenders a fiberglass clamshell, pinned affair.  Dice hanging from the mirror paid homage to days its driver never knew, but wished he had.  He removed them before he drove, always.

If you know how to peel the onion, secrets are revealed.  Wilwood brake calipers can be a dead giveaway. Someone needs serious stopping power - maybe.  Generally, owners who have sprung the bucks for this type gear let the calipers show off in bright red, to make a statement, and sometimes, these days, it’s just a fashion statement.  Expensive calipers, as eye candy, seem to be all the rage.  What is true, however, is very few guys spend big money on brakes only to render them inglorious and seemingly common with a shot of silver paint from a rattle can - and the owner of this half fiberglass racer that poses as a street car had done just that.  I'll glean two things from this observation. One, he needs those heavy brakes because he’s fast, and two, hiding them fits his style.  
Really, the message to be found in the silver paint, so cleverly applied to make your eyes simply slide across on their way to more interesting things, was “sleeper”.   And sleeper really means, he’s one of those guys with a score to settle - with everyone perhaps.   The list of “real parts” grew, if you knew where to look.  Looking was something I had unofficial permission to do since my rod was undergoing a similar scrutiny.  
“Stroked?”, I asked.  That’s something you can’t see from the outside. “ No”, my racer friend replied.  
“Hundred shot?”  (If engines have their language, so do the people who love them).   Despite the owner’s great efforts to conceal braided fuel and nitrous lines, electrical solenoids and switches, I spied his system.  The chunks of aluminum posing as ordinary spacers under his two Holly's were anything but.   “No”, was his one-word reply to my 100- shot question.  I tried again; “Your nitrous system is cleanly installed, how much are you spraying?”  “Two hundred fifty” in two stages, he said.  That’s more like it, I thought, and I then figured, he too had budgeted well for the machine shop – if not, he was gambling in a game that if lost, would soon fly parts in all directions.   Based on the overall neat work on display, I believed his build was up to the punishment planned. 
  I knew exactly what this tight-lipped guy was about, seeing someone very familiar in him as it were, and that made the “sounds good” complement I received upon my arrival all the more valuable.  I liked my neighbor.  And I liked the fact of our scratch-built rods having found each other - and I looked forward to us both dusting off the factory jobs.  It was going to be a good day.

The voice on the loudspeaker tells us we’re up.

Pre-staged, staged, then given the green
The line becomes blurred between man and machine

Bones become linkage
Muscle, spring
Fear, excitement

Time distorts ….
Color disappears …
Vision narrows…
Noise ---  becomes music
Speed, satisfaction

End

Paint me a way home
I no longer want to be alone.

Use your yellow paint
And engulf me,
Into a beautiful world
Without any restraint.

That blue can be used
As the new sea,
Full of life
and full of being.

I will no longer be afraid
Of the wideness of the sea.
I will be comforted by the brushstrokes
Of the new beginning.

Paint me a home
White, with no mistakes.
No smudges
No gray.

Most importantly
Will you paint me?
With no mistakes, no smudges
A pair of new eyes
as blue as the sea.
Paint me and my being.
Make me feel yellow.
Make me happy.

I don’t want to feel lonely.
I want to be painted lovely.

I'm going to paint
my wild energy
rippling across the sky,
tearing from the crown
of my Kundalini.

I'm going to paint
my eyes white,
opaque,
to show they are
unseeing.

I'm going to paint
my heart gray,
the color of old
rancid,
ground up meat.

I'm going to paint
my genitals green,
like money,
like sickness
and envy.

I'm going to paint
everything black,
everything black,
the darkness of
my feeling.

I'm going to paint
the sheets red,
the walls red,
and my brain
across the ceiling.

If I could paint the skies
I would paint it with the links of my mind
I would paint it with cyans and magentas and limes
Reds and oranges and yellows
Blacks and greys and white
All sorts of colours
I would paint it with sorrow and happiness alike
I would paint it with the voice of my soul alight
I would paint the sky with my emptiness...
And the result
Would be the same night sky I see.
Stars shining bright
No hint of any other colour but
The midnight painted with white spots.
Galaxies invisible
Shooting stars veiled
The moon irrepressible
The stars afield
Their lights not powerful
But gentle on the eyes
Caressing the soul
Of the weary and tired.

If I could paint the skies...
And if only I could,
I would paint it all colours alike
With a thick paintbrush
Soaked in a water airy as can be...
But, that is,
If only.

Hidden within the earthy depth
only emerges with time
only dances in tangent
now slips out with the butterflies.  
Now the nightingales singing aloud!

One has spoken out, one blew
a kiss out off the dark seed.
Ah, what then broke through?
Up from the sky the blue-nymph  
dropped down on the scene!
One that hid blurring that's image
on the mirror is that now been seen?

Pouring rain singing down to primulas
paints it with all the colours of the wind
now the Spring picked up her paintbrush.

Rain some colour blow a kiss of the flower
paint it out of the mirror!

All I see are painters
Every person there
Painters with intentions
Consequential but fair

1.
When I see you paint
It's beautiful, but yet
Your path oriented format
I fear you may regret

You paint it like Picasso
You effort surely shows
But strikingly, of painting
You really do not know

Thought wonderful and unique
And more positive words
The paintings true potential
Is quite often obscured

You paint not from the heart
But solely from the mind
You paint based on the model
Of those who you do find

Every word is merely advice
Add some more red, more blue
Before you know what's going on,
Your friends have painted you

So even if you hold the brush
When you follow advice
You might become one of them
And then you won't think twice

And if you do, you'll come to find
Female name and male name
Just modeled for you, all the while
You traced them, such a shame

For it was you who was the painter
And you were also the model!
At least you have a bunch of friends
For whom you did not coddle

All is not lost, for in the end
You do look just like one of them!
And by surrendering to their fear
They are never far, and you're not weird

2.
When I try to paint myself today
I can see the results are true
But when you see me paint myself
I've made a giant out of you

I paint not for myself, but yes
It is just what I seek
I paint so I can become strong
And your advice will never tweak

Fancy myself a model too
For those who can to glance
But what's the point if beyond a moment
I don't have a second chance?

Should I have painted you instead?
Well it wouldn't have worked
The only doubt I have right now
Is do I fit, or do I irk?

I love to follow my heart instead
Of modeling after you
But what's the point if I am one
And you often have two or more?

For acting so independently
I'm reaping what I sow
If I painted myself away
How would anyone know?

Well it's not that I can really stop
I can only lament
It's great, sure, but in the end
I am here, and I vent

The road to peace is narrow
But still, it must be wide
My efforts are not private
But even still I hide

So though I love to continue
Sometimes I feel to stop
Would allow me to find others
And then I'd be on top

Your painting was obscured but now
You have a lot of friends
My painting is so clear and here
I am at my wits end

I will not stop, I love myself
I'll paint until I die
And though I feel alone today
We might eventually know why

What am I for?

Paint me like the burnt air.
Unwanted, careless and forcibly inhaled.

Paint me like the bruises on my chin.
Blue hued, swollen and new.

Paint me like blood.
Flowing and hidden, threatening to flood out.

Paint my pain.
No one else knows, I so desperately need to share.

In vain, paint me
In vain, paint me in vain.

Take me with you,
Through the classroom windows from where i flew,
In the garden where memories grew,
To the childhood where all the wounds were new
Over the horizons which I once knew,
To the mountains which I once drew,
Crack wide open my world in two,
Take me with you,
Take me anywhere,
Closer to you or away from myself
Take a box full of spray paints and spray paint over the walls confining me,
Paint a star, the sun and the moon and you,
Paint a rainbow,
Paint me red, green and yellow
Paint the sky, blue and grey
Paint the clouds, infinite and immaculate
Paint a tree, alive and withered
And a seesaw just to keep reminding me that we cannot rise together
**** me in the friend zone

Woke up this morning,
Saw something on the walls.
Paint, just paint,
Just chipping, jarring paint.
I tried to fix I by scratching it,
Scratching it off with those long nails of mine.
But the more that I fixed it the more it looked broken
And ugly, imperfect, and
Scaring.

I tried to leave the room
To forget about it;
Come back to it
Another time, another day.
It is not worth worrying about,
But what is these days?

There isn’t anything prettier
Beneath the chipping paint.
I have to remind myself that, but slowly
Logic is slipping away.
I’m developing pica now, want to tear that paint
From the walls with my teeth so that I can taste
My sweet revenge,
But paint is rather bitter
Anyway.

So I stare in silence;
I could close the door, but I want all to see this.
This monstrosity, exhausting me of all my resources.
I call a few friends to present themselves to face the
Wall
So that they can stare at what I see
All. Day. Long.
Chipping paint that only worsens
Yet stubborn as a weight too strong
For me to lift.

Eventually, they return to me.
They must, right, they call themselves my friends.
I muster the courage to lead them through the door
To the walls that distract me, that ongoing chore.
One by one, they do view it and ask me where to look.
“Isn’t it obvious?” I say, “Isn’t it obvious?”
Again, they feel stupid, and blush, and pretend to see,
But they do not see.
I try to point it out,
But they do not see.
They will never see.
The chipping paint that forever plagues,
Forever, ever plagues
Me.

inuidere nobis rectius *** digitis fricantur ex agro eu diei ab aestu et meretrices stripper ventum - to envy, w/ greater right & w/ our fingers, that were harlots, strippers, rubbed from the field of football in the daytime from the heat & the wind



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your ranting is jealous of us & our fingers are rubbed on the football field during the heat of the day from the stripper wind that prostitutes, home to brands, back itching, Einstein's history of earthquakes, such as fire's light; Currently angry, right & bring a lot of power in the corporate bond b/c a stranger in volume stood on the table started off licensed; Women love the mother of the girl who is engaged w/ her black *** exposed, a day & a night, bright red is good for all poets in the form of the body of the dead beautiful; But what you may, have no black in it, w/ the dung of a white snooch, an old man, have thou respect unto his voice & the heat is, & America, & I thought that they found a piece of a piece of a piece of, as well as a piece of wood w/ lead, to speak, which he placed the forced labor that King Solomon used, were of the form & from the face of to the face of the feminine & to the queen, though it never departed from the child who was among the ancients who called it the poetic, full of difficult sisters who had been defiled by thy spirit to be the chamber on high, in the battle, the poet, & the stars of old said, 'what he is seeking money' of the land of the weaker *** in the thought itself lost by death as hair falls from the goats, for you do not know the blood of the man, does better baby every ***** & of blue & the city's gateway to the sea by the appearance of the goddess & apparel was by Antonius, who will perform their own families of the drinks, the shredded; toward the interior side of the well-favored harlot, a young goat & the memory of his prose writings, he composed pieces, a lot of words, & thus it is that I may feel didst I wash thyself, & didst paint thy will, not drink of the fruit of the, yech, this precious fruits w/ a wild animal is an animal and the removal of Barbie, this is a gay rock out of the hole; T cool is what I & Anne, the rock of the songs of them who said that in his pride, & in their security & from a few of the great criminals of avenging the mothers have in the Sumatra tribe; but it is to you, but, except ye than a running gift, in which there was the § time of the fire, the dark brown to brown, the center of the child's regard, you should, as it were no lack of forces, leaving to you, which can not be inflicted by me, he is the spirit of, & the force of, the wind & the arms, a precious stone, after the yellow year of the walk, even to the years of friendship, according to the nature of the brain's most sci-fi revolutions of society, online French, her feet, & the Talk filled with smoldering dances heard the guys in gold in the dream of yellow; Standing in the creation itself, which turned to a deeper search of heaven can be compared, in order to walk, & I did not stay fingers & the power of the pen of the scribes to speak to the machine to learn more, there is the body, not even the bunk celebrated by Wolfe, to the workings of Satan, at the bottom, & the fat of the dog, St. Anthony, that the angels are on the one w/ a robot of these smoking firebrands, for the rich man & the daughters of the strippers from Indonesia, to Bob & her ***** for the first time, which will be able to to know they do not have 500; I have a banana is the sixth, there is the evil of, or, to the loss of any man: for it had not rained upon me & not you; [are ranting be jealous of us make with our fingers, are rubbed from the football field in the heat of the day from the stripper winds them that prostitutes], comes home to the brands of designers disposed off the rack & the wall & he will slay the Remarkably, that is, the movement of the motion in the shade; Jews have been the fate of the radio, the old & children leather kiss garden with a call angel soccer watch football pipe is quite common to see stay in dance teeth of Einstein's history of earthquakes, like the fire light Currently angry right to bring a lot of power in the corporate bond b/c stranger in volume stood on the table started off license; They love the women, the girl married his mother naked as the day & night; the long red the good of the black *** of him is brighter than the place of the loveliest of all the poetic form of the body parts of the year, is dead; now it is out of the black with the dung of a white snooch, an old man in the great heat & America, & I thought that they found a piece of a piece of wood is related to the forced labor that King Solomon were in the figure, from the face of the face, feminine & to the queen, it never departed from the child among the ancients, poetry is the hard ******* mind, the chamber of the war poet, female, stars, let them say what they want the money, the underworld of the *** is the real thing; thinking of the lost by death a hair fall from the kids who did not know the blood of the man, does better baby, every ***** &, of blue & of the city, the entrance into the sea by the appearance of the goddess, & the apparel was by Antonius, their families & the families of the drinks, the interior of the shredded turned to the side of the well-favored harlot & the young goat being torn into pieces, a lot of words & it is to feel didst wash thyself & didst paint thyself, yeh, never again drink of this fruit of the wild animal of the animal is an animal, of Barbie, this is the stone gay out of the hole T cool is that John D out of the rock songs of those who said that Tarquinius on the super bus, who was together with his cursed; a few in the supply of the teacher of the mothers in Sumatra one of among you, but unless you are running free in the coot which is § of time, the water, the dark brown center of the child, since matter is exactly as if it lacks the powers, leaving us wet with me like a gust of wind force & his armor & a precious jewel behind the yellow was a walk to the years of friends one by the nature of the brain's most sci-fi revolution of the society, online French the feet of the wick, he will not be filled w/ a ****** dancing; Talk I have heard the guys it belongs to, the gold, the dream of yellow, he asked the rising of the dog, filthy, silently making beams for the eating together of the mirror of the evils of everything, need're pretty sure the evils of ping Menesius; a small thing, chaste as a gift of silver, of them who slew Christ, by way of similitude of the park in the bed, which is a black magic, and drink ye every one in the flesh, we read that in the ages of the ages, the invisible, the food to them that sat clinically, Moses stood in the creation of which turned every way to seek the superior heaven be compared to one another; as ye walk & not to have known the sacred palaces of the fingers there is a sound; At first pen of the scribes! talk to machine learning, there is still evading Woolf the operation of Satan with the dregs of fat from the dog; Anthony angels of one robot smoking with the rich, the daughter strippers to Bob ***** first time that a person can know the 500 banana sixth to the injuries, I do not; you are ranting is the rain of kisses with the fingers, Cookie rubs the football field, the heat from the stripper winds them that are harlots, thou torches of pregnant affected by the torture of the walls to **** the monster Bettie the sand of the many Chinese with the spirit of the glass is mad: the check does not strives to hinder her to be a mutation of borage on have gotten me; I felt the uncertainties of the fact over the flattery of the angle of the beloved city: news of the gift shall not be mentioned to him; Remarkably, that is, the motion from the motion of the shadow of the Jews was the fate of the radio, the oldest & daughter wilderness leather kiss garden w/ a call angel soccer watch football pipe is quite common to see stay with dance teeth in the light of Einstein's history of earthquakes angry & leaf of the fire Currently properly bring power to impose a "corporate bond" b/c the stranger in volume stood on the table & started off w/ license; They love women, the girl married my mother, naked as the day & night, w/ long red good black *** brighter than space would be most beautifully poetic form the body from the country per year is dead black, with the dung of white snooch, the old place is great for heat & America & I thought they found a piece of wood which king Solomon said had the appearance of the face-gob queen, has not left the boy poetry of the ancient living mind hard ******* room of war poets; a woman said the money would stars hell *** real thinking about death lost the hair of the kids knew that blood is better makes the baby every ***** & the blue of the of the city, the entrance into the sea, the goddess' families, the communities of the drinks, the inside of the alum turned to the side of the well-favored harlot a kid in pieces, a lot of words and deed to feel didst wash thyself, paint thyself, yeh, not to drink of the wild beast of Barbies, this is the story about a gay cool tease; the hole's to keep Ivan's songs of rock melts into a small lady; mothers in Russia unless you are running free in the coot phases, water brown, young material completely, leaving wet w/ blind force & arms are precious; my black & yellow walk year of his friends; nature of the brain mainly revolutionary society, online French feet, smoking filled with ****** dancing talking; I heard guys cared for the golden dream blonde, asking the *****'s original school secret floor; eating glass the spirit of evil brought to the club pretty sure evil genius **** gift of a silver slew Christ at the park in bed because she is my magic God & drink the flesh read end to the invisible, the food that sat standing; a creature that turned every way, to the air as you walk, it is not sacred houses toes sound when you first meet the pen of the scribes talk to slip out activity of Satan right machine learning, **** angels of one of the richness of the dog Antony's robot, smoking a rich man's daughter strippers; Bob friends saw her ***** first broken by man to know, understand, banana Friday wood & shall never be more accurately maintain the rain kiss his fingers & rubbed football field intensity stripper & favorite prostitutes torches pregnant attachment of guns on walls & **** the monster Bettie, in the sand many Chinese ghosts were buried w/ the check, hidden in the glass of the madness of the conversion; I'm not lean for instance, that there is a change in the gypsy of Borage on; I felt the light of the cause is as uncertain, the corner of the streets of the city which he loved & of loving Maecenas in the gift of Christ is not remembered against him; his marvelous month, which is the movement from the movement of the shadows of that which was the Jew's mom to hold the fate of the radio, the oldest daughters wilderness, in leather kiss garden angel calling soccer watching the sweating gun is quite common to see the whole stay in the dance's teeth penetrate the lights Einstein's story in an earthquake, fire is hot leaf state in an upright manner agreeable to bring the goddess' b/c the stranger in the volume of corporate bond stood up table started off w/ a license; they love the poor women of the girl's wife, for the eyes of the Mother of the man is naked, at midday there a long red the good of the black *** of him to be clearer than the space of the future, most beautifully poetic form the body of the land of the years my dead out of the black with dung are white snooch old age is a place for the great of the heat that is America, he thought, however, to find a piece of wood which was of gold the beauty of the face-**** queen has not left the boy poetry the old living mind hard is ******* room war poet woman said the money would stars hell the *** real thinking of death lost hair the kids knew that blood is better makes the baby all ***** & the blue city entrance of a great sea goddess Igor hands Community was drunk at the inside alum turned to the side of the well-favored harlot a kid in pieces, guy to the mouth of the of the work, to feel the wash yourself, paint, yeh, the wild animal & drunk Barbie, this stone of the hole's gay cool to retain Ivan's song of the rock, sweet food the lady noticed the mothers of the Russians, but the book of the course of the state of the under the window, the water brown in reality the young men of the material of the deep, perfect, leaving wet with the blind force of arms but the lips I write back w/ & yellow walking year of his friends nature of the brain mainly revolutionary society, online French feet, smoking soul filled w/ ****** dancing talk is heard guys care gold dream blonde asked ***** origin school secret floor eating glass spirit of evil brought club pretty sure evil genius ****; The gift of the silver, put to death the Christ, the park of the bed, the sister of the magic of the gods of the drink, the land of the flesh, I bequeath to the top of the invisible things of God with fasting many as he sat to conquer standing on the creature that turned every way, of the air as you walk, not to sacred orders, only the house of toes blow ye with the other before the collision the pen of the scribes, speaking to the fall of the power of Satan, the right machine learning, **** the angels of one of the richness of a dog Antony seas robot rich man's daughter strippers smoking alchemy, Bob of friends saw **** first boxing mortals know, understand Muse Friday tree blasts forever to more accurately place rain kiss his fingers and rubbed football field intensity stripper wind prostitutes torches pregnant feeling the guns on the walls are to **** the monster Bettie; many Chinese ghosts checking buried, hidden under the mirror of a madman, I'm not made lean as much as a change in a gypsy borage; I felt the light of the explanation of sleep a corner of the streets of the city he loved a lover of Maecenas of Christ, I remember wonderful Ladies who are moved by the beating of the shadows of what was to a Jewish mom to hold the fate of the radio, the oldest of the daughters of the wilderness, miss leather kissing in the garden where an angel calls soccer; watching the gun is looking sweaty enough to see by natural teeth dance stayed hot in the hairy lights of Einstein's story of earth moving leaf state fire done properly withdrawn bring the Goddess wear real b/c volume table starts to read down corporate tie newcomer stood wave license withdrawn; And they love the women, the girl married his mother naked as the day and a night the long red the good of the black *** of him is brighter than the space of this very beautifully, when the poetic form of the body region of the year of my dead out of the black with the dung of a white snooch, their old place in the great heat of America, & I thought that they found a piece of a piece of wood of the forced labor that King Solomon used were in the shape of the face, **** the queen, did not he let the boy in the ancient poetry, his hard ******* mind living room war poet; female stars saying they want money, hell, *** is the real thing; thinking of the lost by death a hair falling from the kids; they knew that the blood of man does better than baby ***** every time & of blue & of the city, the entrance into the sea & by the appearance of the goddess & apparel was Antonius, their families & the families of the drinks in the interior of alum, turning to the side of the well-favored harlot even a young goat being torn into pieces, a lot of words, and it is to feel didst wash thyself, and didst paint thee, yeh, I will not drink of the fruit of the wild beast of the beast of Barbie, this is the stone about gay cool ribbed tee of the hole's; there, that John's out of the rock songs is dripping with a small amount of the mistress of the mothers in Sumatra one of you, unless you are running free in the coot § times of the water, brown, boy, the material is totally lacking, leaving us wet as if a gust of wind force & arms are a precious back yellow walk; year of his friends nature of the brain mainly revolution society, online French feet smoking is filled with ****** dancing talk, I heard guys carrying the golden dream blonde asking the ***** the original school secret; floor eating glass evil spirits were brought club pretty sure bad pinging ****** a little bit too ****, the gift of the things of silver, of them who slew Christ, by way of a comparison w/ the park & bed; that it is magic & drink ye every one of the flesh, we read of the ages, invisible, the food is to them that sat clinical standing in the creation of the turning every way, to the upper air as you walk not to have known the sacred palaces of the fingers of the sound of the first the sense comes pen of the scribes to speak machine learning, just let the man escape Wolfe to the working of Satan, the dregs are at; the fat that of a dog, Anthony, the angels of one robot, smoking w/ a rich man is the daughter of strippers w/ lichen for Bob's ***** first knew the man to know the understanding of the 500 muses; the sixth to the log, not ranting in the rain, kissing w/ the fingers are rubbed the football field heat of the stripper the wind, that were harlots; the torches of pregnant affected by the torture of the walls to **** the monster Bettie, the sand of the many Chinese of the Spirit glass; mad checking was not an impediment to lean it to be a mutation of borage Glory on, I felt uncertain because the angle of the city he loves loving & Overview of the gift is not remembered against him; that is astonishing, that is, the movement of the noise from the movement of the shadow of which to the Jews was given to the fate of the radio, the oldest of the daughter of the wilderness of the hide of the kiss of the garden he calls an angel soccer watch football the fistula is quite common to see remaining in the whole of the dance, the teeth of the skin & the light, by means of Einstein's story of the earth, the movement, he was angry w/ himself & the leaf of fire, Currently correctly bringing the goddess foreign to "corporate" bond, b/c he is a stranger in volume stood on the table started off w/ license;
Black girl, his mother loves her *** exposed, day & night, flushed poet form carcass fair, what is perhaps the white **** from the white snooch, the old man gives attention to his voice, & heat, & America, & with these, & they found a piece of a piece of a piece as well wood & lead to tax the king in a face-to-face you & the queen do not leave a child who was w/ the old nanny of poetry; easily prostituted your mind to the chamber in line poet & the stars in the old saying, that in the form of power of God, the worship of God, & alum, & in the house of their fathers, the inside is brought to Antonius; part of the things are purchased wanton they are in the form of God, well-favored harlot, & a kid of the goats, for one thing, & one thing nor memorial, in his prose writings, he composed parts of a lot of the words of the, I think, & wash the paint, I will not drink of the fruit of the beasts of the field I have given to the fruits that thy ****** & the fruit of the theory of osculating this was new & the removal of Barbies, that is to say, from the cold of the Holy Spirit out of the rock of a cave, which is a stone about gay? & the pride of such a kind that of Tarquin the Proud, & his mother, of the song, confidence quite as much in God's dealing w/ cases & a Sarmatian tribe, from them that & in a few words? Nevertheless, both if not more than running after him, a gift of God, as described in the § in the time of a fire, the dark brown to brown, thick in the center of the infant's cause, it was granted to me, as being the things that are not lacking in him, that he must leave, which is to me the spirit, & stood in the creation of the air everywhere seeking higher compared to the walk into the vacuum machine; You might pen of the scribes to speak & to learn more, the body is, do not celebrate, we celebrate from the bunk in the celebrated, would have celebrated Wolfe, to the working of Satan, in the bottom, & the fat of the dog, of St. Anthony, & the angel, which is one, takes out the robot on fire in the city, & of all the cases, & the rich, & the daughters of strippers; developer to Bobbed ***** soon knowing that he has 500 bananas, a sixth is bad, or the loss of any one of you that you are ranting that the rain falls on me to begrudge her fingers the lowest battle field between the heat of the day from stripper winds that *******, home to brands off the rack, itching Einstein's history of earthquakes in the line of firepower to light; Currently, the angry farmer on the corporate board spoke volumes, stood on a table & started off w/ a license

I was painting a portrait the other night,
    when I figured this out; so let me paint you a picture now.
See I’m a writer, and not a very good artist, and I’m overly clumsy
    and far too bulky for my own good.
I have a boxers’ hands to go with a boxers’ grip which is the worst
    way to grab a paint brush unless you want to tip over your paints.
And that’s exactly what I did.
I tipped over that tray thing with the little slots for all the different
   colors of paint to keep them separated.
They went tumbling to the floor and they all mixed together and
   became one, and there was no more white, no more purple, no
       more yellow or red.
There were no lines to color in or outside of cause the paint was
     everywhere and I left it to dry instead of calling it a
                      “mess that needs to be cleaned up.”
I gave it a chance to become its own thing.
And it didn’t.
It just remained sprawling on the floor.
But at LEAST it was given a chance.
And then I turned on the TV to see that cowboy has-been from Gran
     Torino talking about how this is a “***** generation” and how  
             everyone is too Politically Correct.
He said we used to not be afraid of words like '******' and '****'
    and we walked around proudly in our own neighborhoods,
         and I immediately turned that ******* off.
Not to ignore it, but because I couldn’t respond to it.
I’ve been screaming at the TV for 32 years now and have determined
     that either they can’t hear me or they just don’t give a ****.  
It may be both.
But I want to scream.
I want to tell him that people still aren’t afraid to use those Words; they just choose not to.
I want to tell him that they still walk around proudly in their own neighborhoods, and they are even more proud that he doesn't live here.
But all that’ll lead to,
is an Us vs. Them mentality,
which eventually leads to wars.
We can’t have a war.
Not based on this.
And there are people out there who want that, and there are a
   lot of them.
And they are using those words and they are walking those
      neighborhoods, and they are posting on Alt-Right Message Boards
           and talking about how the White Man is going extinct and how
                   they are the minority.
They white-wash phrases like “White Supremacist” to become
   “Racial Purists” and I realized that they just gave us the answer.
We need to spill the paint.
We need to fall in love with people of color.
Any color.
Every color.
We need to spill the paint and mix it together and make new colors.
And it’ll take a long time, but anything worth doing is worth doing
     right.
And there will be no more primary colors and secondary colors,
    there will only be people.
But its not enough to mix the colors, we have to clean up the act too.
We have to raise our children of all colors right.
We have to tell them that no color is better than another, and that you  
    can draw a painting with just one color, Because that IS a choice!
You can surround yourself with just one color, and only use just one
       color your entire life, but what kind of a life is that?
You walk down the street and the Roses are grey. And the trees are
     grey. And the grey men at the bar are hitting on grey women
          outside and the bartender is pouring grey goose for everyone
               trying to wash down the fact that something is definitely
                      wrong.
We need Red roses and green trees and black men with white women,
      and Asian women with white men, and everyone needs to just start
           mixing and loving, and loving to mix until there is nothing left to
                 stereotype.
Nothing left to minimize, undermine, or scrutinize.
And if we don’t do this soon,
I fear there may be nothing left to scrutinize at all.

I paint
People are my canvas
And I paint

I cover up the imperfections
Caulk the cracks
And I paint

I paint
Purple circles
Lines of agony
And I paint

And I paint
Greys and browns
Against peach and tan
Striking red
Against pink
And I paint

Dark
And I paint

We all start with blank faces.
Ebony or
Ivory or
Olive or
Anything in between.
Skin so dark they don't sell the shade at Sephora.
Skin so light you've got to mix the color with white to make it match.
Whatever the color, it's all the same skin.

We all start with blank faces
Made of cells and covered in blemishes
Stretched thin across our cheekbones
Or hanging loose and wrinkled with age,
With lines on our foreheads like
Punishment
for laughing too much.
When did laughter become such a grievous crime?

We all start with blank faces.
… and then we become Van Gogh.
With expert brush strokes, we paint.
We coat ourselves with thick layers of pastey goop like Elmer's glue
Paint it on thick to cover our blemishes and red spots
We top it off with pigment like powdered sugar on sweets
Not knowing that the more opaque our makeup is, the more transparent.

We all start with blank faces.
… and then we become sculptors
Contouring and contorting to conform to unrealistic standards.
We highlight our best features and conceal the rest.
We conceal the redness of our cheeks just to paint it on again with blush.
We paint wings on our eyes although we'll never fly.

We all start with blank faces.
… and then we become victims of consumerism
Spending our money on different shades of the same **** thing
They raise the prices because they know they'll sell it to us anyway
They force it upon us, then shame us for becoming slaves to it
We are the victims and the perpetrators.

We all start with blank faces
… and then we become artists
… and then we become victims
… and then we become warriors

**This is our war paint.

By Nabs
Dear, My Past Self
I've always wanted to say a lot of things to you.
A lot of things that I would like you to change.
A lot of things I wished that you haven't done
(Like chanting hate to your self before you went to sleep).

But that is not the reason I am sending this letter.

We both know how the past cannot be changed, the same way we both know that girls will be girls and boys will be boys (which to say not at all, after all we are a firm believer that time travel and The Doctor exist).

I know that you are going through a lot of forked roads, right now.
Gnawing your lips and making it bleed, from worrying whether to choose right or left?
Afraid, not to take the wrong road but to take the road that you want, the third road that you've always thought off but haven't gathered enough courage to step to.
It's okay to be afraid of where will you get stranded in life. Being afraid doesn't make you weak.

But at the end we have to move forwards even if it will literally kills you to leave the breathtaking view behind.

At this point in your life, You will realize that the handful of people that you surround your self with are more of an aquantaince than friends. And you will lose some of the friends you have because of the directions you each choose to go. You will feel lonely and miserable.

A deceptive man called depression will lull you with the promise of kindred spirits and ask you to let him be your companion. You will accept this offer, not fully knowing the Concequences because Depression, in your neighborhood, is something that goes unacknowledged.

You will regret the decision of taking his hands
(He's a good friend of mine now, I know how to deal with his quirks and how to cope with him living in my home. He still ask me to join him in drowning, but I learned how to say no)

    There will also be a lot of people telling you that you are a freak. They will consider that being true to yourself is a sin and you will try to repent by torturing your self with soul leeching mask that will leave you identity in tattered remains (You will spent years trying to piece it back, taking new pieces and discarding old ones).

They will also paint names on your back, whispers lies and making a game on how much they can stab you in one day. (You always come home bleeding, but you covered it with 1000 watt smile and perfume to mask that fact that the wounds are rotting)

Do not try revenge, it will leave you with a guilt so heavy that the act it self would only taste like ashes and sour your heart. (I know how horrible that is, and I know you'll still do it because this letter isn't about changing the past)

Remember that you have an untapped core of titanium in your backbone.

I know you will spend some sleepless night thinking of ways to not wake up in the morning, how to keep dreaming, and letting the ghost take you away. I know how close you are to the temptation and how you almost bitten that forbidden fruit because you wonder if it taste like peace. I also know that you will deny yourself.

(Because that's the lesson that was taught to us since the beginning )

Society may tell you, to **** all the things that are different in you. The things that make you see a shade differently, the things that make your angle on the world askew, the thing that you were (and still is) proud of. You will ask why, and they will reply because you are not perfect.

Do not listen to them because a few months from now you'll learn that their reasons are poison and you had been fed spoiled milk all along.
(You'll get some stomach ache that will feel like butterfly wings, you will mistake it for infatuation. It's not. You'll learn that infatuations taste like sugar and the coffee that you'll grow to like)

At this point, You will also painstakingly build a shrine, made of ivory and desperation, for the one you mistaken as a saint (she's not but she's still one of the best things that happen to you). A shrine for a saint that you tried to be, a saint that was hailed from loneliness and envy.  

The shrine will be the invisible wall that you will simultaneously try to tear apart while build it everyday. You will always be the one who ask for forgiveness because you were a faithful believer who believe that you are a despicable sinner.

(You are as much as a sinner as she is a saint.)

The day that you look her in the eyes and burn the shrine, the wall will crumble and fall like the Berlin Wall. Both of you will become human ( Also you will find that she is easily bribed with pizza and you will find that you are different than her and that's ok).

You will also learn the taste of despair from the way the mother dove cannot understand that your screams are the way you say that you are breaking and you just want to quit breathing. Instead mother dove will translate it into screams of rebellion, and you were always the obedient daughter first, than you are a teenage girl.

(You will learn how to jab your scream into paper, and turn them into poems. You will truly make some bad ones at first. Don't worry I'll help you along the way)

One day, between where you are now and where I am now, the world will give you a present of awareness to the danger of smiling to strangers. You will cry in the hotel bathroom and try to scrub your skin until it bleeds, trying to feel clean but only managed to ***** the tub. The world and mother dove will tell you that its your fault and you were asking for it (You're not).

You will lose the ability to smile uncaringly.
(This is one of the things I wish we would have keep)

You will slowly watch the colors that you know fade from the world, leaving it a mottled grey. The same state that you are feeling now. You will paint lies and invent new colors to just make you believe that there is something worth living for. You will hate your self more and more for your new painting skills.

Don't hate your self, You are a survivor and you are still fighting (I know you wouldn't listen to this, that you would keep hating your self until you met some people who will be kind to you and help you hold up your forts from the monster inside your skin. Like I said this isn't that kind of letter).

I know that the day you smashed all your anger and hurt into the table that you sleep on, was the day where you first tried to draw red lines with sharp markers on yourself. It will be messy but you were addicted and soon all you can paint was release and the occasional victorian girl

(You will not draw boys because you despise the way that you cannot draw wide board shoulders, like the one you hate on your self but admire on your brothers because those shoulders look like they could carry the world unlike yours).

You will lock your emotions tight, and learn how to hide from the world (It wouldn't last long, you have the universe inside you that is screaming to be shared to people. You haven't learned how to say no yet, unlike me)

You will learn that you are also an idiot, that karma exist and it bites you in the *** as a payback for all those tyranny. You will laugh your self until you're sobbing and fallen asleep. The next day you will bring a book to educate yourself to your school.

You will be turned into a mess of paint, anger, bitterness, and dramatic flair. The only one that will be left without blemish will be the mask (not the face beneath). The woodcutters will saw your legs of from you, and you will be left without the means to stand on the ground

But you still will crawl your miserable 90 kilogram mass of body to the next crossroad, and the next, and the next, and the next, like the stubborn mule you (we) are.

And you will came out of the personal purgatory, that the world gave you, with a brand new legs, soul liberally littered with scars, and a tuft wings on your back (Albeit still very tiny. It's okay, It's still growing).

You will learn to walk again with your new legs, the one that isn't smooth like baby skin but full with callouses from all the road walking.

You will learn that being full of flaws is ok, that not being beautiful is fine.

You will also learn that you are allergic to cats (You will deny this fact when you find out until you almost passed out because you couldn't breathe. But we will still cuddle with them because cats are the best)

You will meet new people, wonderful new people. The ones that you care so very much and the one that cares for you back. The ones that's just wonky like you. (You will love this guy and girl that I am close with, they're very kind and sappy like you are)

You will get to fall in love, like in the romance manga that you secretly love, and you will broke your own heart (I wanted to say for you to savor it more, but like I said this isn't that kind of letter).

You will be ok with it, and you'll gain the skills of cutting people from your life

You will learn that the world isn't kind to your gender, and you'll ask for equality ( the same way you're asking for a new set of paint, which is to say with a lot of care and thinking). You will learn that the world will always be a ******* but there will always be change.

(The world needs its balance)
You will learn that patience isn't really your virtue. But you will learn to grit your teeth and wait.

You will learn to love your self. Even at some point the hate still managed to rear its ugly head. You will learn to be proud of your self and yet still be kind.

And you will continue to write your own story, you will make mistakes and learn from them, you will make unexpected plot twist and pull your favorite cliche. You will learn that not all people like your story and that it's okay.

That is so very okay.

This letter isn't about telling you to change yourself.

It's my way of saying thank you.

Because darling, ****** well done (pun intended)
                                    Love, Your Future Self

P.S :
(This isn't the end, how about we meet up for tea later?)

I ate the yellow paint to make me happy.
I want to smile again
The people around me were worried about my colour lacking face.
So every morning, as the sun rose, I drowned my unsaid words in yellow paint. The colour was brought back to my cheeks, and everyone said that i was glowing.
I started eating the yellow paint day and night, to brighten my dreams. Yellow paint for breakfast lunch and dinner.
No one complained.
Except for my stomach, lungs and heart.
The yellow paint made my outside looks better, but slowly destroyed my inside. You see, yellow paint is poison, no matter how bright.
So it slowly killed me, but everyone said I looked alright.

I paint myself blue to remind me of your melancholy;
White to remind me of your smile,so holy.

I paint myself green to represent your calmness;
Yellow to represent your charm.
Pink for the times I knew I loved you,nothing more nothing less;
Purple for the endless times I desired to cup your face in my palm.

I paint myself blue to remind me of your melancholy;
White to remind me of your smile,so holy.


I paint myself red to symbolize your anger;
Orange to symbolize your madness.
Brown for your eyes full of danger;
Black for your soul spilling with grief and sadness.

I paint myself blue to remind me of your melancholy;
White to remind me of your smile,so holy.


I scrub myself to wash your scent off of me;
I mix all the colours until they form one colour.
I wash it all off until my brown skin is all I can see;
I may have lost you but I can see myself clearer.

If i were to paint a picture of the thoughts in my head
There would be cold blacks and lonely blues, with hints of  angry reds and melancholy purples. a lively green peeking its way through.

If i were to paint a picture of my soul
There would be firefly yellows and apple reds
As well as autumn hazels and summer fire oranges
with streaks of that lonely blue and speckled with comforting lavender. A rainy gray softening the edges.

If i were to paint a picture of my eyes
There would be warm chocolate browns with flicks of fiery golds.
Blessed to be wide, wise, and curious like that of a doe, along with Long lashes for butterfly kisses.

If i were to paint a picture of my body
There would be rounded shapes, subtle tones, with flowers growing from her hands, all configured into a short, symmetrical figure.

If i were to paint a picture of my smile
I could only hope it would be beaming with the colors of sunshine.

If i were to paint a picture of you
You would be a blank canvas, because i have yet to meet you.
But I'm sure that you would be a beautiful, chaotic, masterpiece, waiting for a painting of me.

You sell your paintings on the street,

I sell my writing on the black market,

we will keep at it till we meet,

I will sing my lyrics on an old carpet,

you will paint until your pictures bleed,

I will write with such a need,

you paint to make things real,

I write just to feel,

we will keep at it even if there is no meal,

you paint to scream,

I write to forget my nightmare, my dream

You paint with colors dark and bright

I write to make things right,

you paint with emotion,

I write what is in sight,

we will keep at it till this festival is revealed to light,

you paint what you see,

I write to see me,

you paint in the parts of this screaming town,

I write to make a lover wear a wedding gown,

we will keep at it till there is no sound.

You paint about me in this dizzy trance,

and I will write about you in advance,

we will keep at it till the end of our dance

and show each other what we have done.

He tells me that cliche again about van gogh and his yellow paint. He says i’m an artist like that. i’ll find my yellow paint. my salvation. how i scoop out hope.
i want to tell him i already have. the ugly things i shove inside myself trying to find happiness even if it kills me. my yellow paint has been entire cakes, has been sixteen shots, has been strangers i kissed and forgot, has been eating too healthy, has been eating nothing at all, has been dark nights i swaddled myself in, has been speeding on black ice, has been everything i could think of that would make me feel anything at all for once in my life. i wonder if i die like this they’ll say it was beautiful. they’ll talk about the poet who used the sharpest things in her life to carve the joy out of herself - they’ll say, oh, she knew it was toxic but she wanted to put the happiness inside of her again. she ate only captain crunch because it reminded her of her childhood, isn’t that so cute? well obviously it’s sad she’s dead but how romantic is it that she loved birds and flowers and once debated eating poison. how will they paint my ending. she unbuckled herself on highways because she wanted to be one with the sky. she refused to look before crossing the road because she believed in fate. she was a wonderful girl and will be missed while we wear socks with her face on them. van gogh ate yellow paint. we say he was trying to put the good back into him. but i’ve slammed myself against the ground trying to get death to stick. i know what self harm is when i see it.

Peace and freedom of the Sabbath. What is education? In this world, in society, this is the best solution. This is not a victim of lost plans. But he makes the right choice to paint in the open air. Multi-sided knife, tears, sounds, greetings, dance, dancing, ****. Mary's favorite walls without a car. The film is a thin irrigation layer which often recently coincides with the language of the region. Bad Brains. Jewish girls are frightened by the dog
of the baker. It was propaganda. For example, it is a scoop of ice cream
and a cold water bottle of unconscious spirits; It’s great legs; It was the Austrian-German philosophers. (a), and how does it work? HP High-Speed Ads Not Allowed for in the article. (1.1) Dow and Igor Green; School
of the United States of America is different. I couldn’t, I wasn’t coming
to the wind, I would like you to go forward. It is not only “Canada”,
but it’s “Google”, “Syria, 66,”said Daniel. It’s a little girl who has a
lot of family life. There are three feet of songs. It was the death of the
ocean that was a multimedia center. It is a woman who lives in the
middle of the world. The kids are in great shape. It is clear that there
is a chance
to make it.

If you write a letter on a white background,
you can write a letter. Eli Museum, United
States of America, Smith offers his first
peace of mind. He was in the middle of the
rainbow of the rain for their country.
The paint is on the screens. Fatal. Beat it?

Sad husband's brides know together the peace and freedom
of the Sabbath. What is education? In the world in society,
this is the best solution. This is not a victim of lost plans.
But he makes the right choice to paint in the air. Multi-sided
knife and tears, sound, greetings, dance, dancing on the face,
face, bacteria and praying songs, ****. Mary's favorite walls
without a car. The film’s deep irrigation writes a tree, which
often recently coincides with a language of limited time,
dealing with a clear part of the region. Bad rains. Jewish girls
are afraid of ***** and the paint fills the dog baker. It was
propaganda in favor of abstract painting with chopped
perfumes. Gloria asks official knees for the price to wait
for the opening of the corners to bring the origin of the Spirit
of *****, fuel for fire here, child, boys, city of cold hours,
which led Laura into darkness because they loved the devil
of unconscious spirits; the stars of all the flesh of this evil
women fallen to the bottom of the yolk and bouncing alive
in Ivan’s great legs; I thought it was enough for groups
to resist the resistance of the cold skin of the skin, knowing
that dawn had become the lover of the best Australian
German philosophers. a, and how does it work? HP
High-Speed ​​Ads Not Allowed for in the article. (1.1)
in Eastern Europe in black and white, Canada, Europe,
Asia, Iran and Toronto, were published for the first time
in Italy, Google Now, Google will not help with love
and Ysgol Ddu and Igor Green; School in the United States,
Canada, Asia and the world, in Los Angeles and in English
is different. I cannot, I did not come to the wind, Jane
offered it to the Netherlands,
Germany and the United States of America. I buy a lottery
that wants to avoid the danger, what do companies in Germany
do to an organization that I don't know is embarrassed to move
forward? For safety and mental health for many years, and they
are not in Canada, not only white and black people more than
in Europe ”and Google, Syria, 66, - said Daniel. Try to have a
tradition of American, European, Canadian police in front
of the station agency that buys most of the garden in the violent
strength of Ivan’s large family, C. Women must love the life
of a white girl’s mother, the night light of the city at night and
in the eyes of the Lord, songs of young women, The best color
of American green water, which is pretty dead in Europe
is three feet. dead dead fire strength cold island only blood
acid; acid ocean ocean history history Italian history's history,
Africa yellow dogs known in the sea against the primeval
sun of the Greek poet, the living beauty of Uncle Brown Earth
or in the future a multimedia center. The heart of the heart
and antiquity - the soul
of crimes in the garden, John Christian Arthouse Russia,
canker sores that create many problems for alcoholics, hell school
schools have small traces of gold to send blue calls in French.
The kids are in great shape. Full of children, when the original
book thinks about the little moon, about the dream of human
warmth, about the dreams of his father: "Father, it is very clear
to open the fingers of the fingers of the old friends of the world."
poetry poetry
poetry; woman reads the score, Igor, the robot, the world, good
words of Kay Na's dad Christ defending a good class of Green
knowledge of colorful letters, leaves leaves, drink Written
by Haibasani. Speaking about low prices Thomas Thomas'
language center in a brochure. The beginning of the news,
Australia holds a crazy phrase against the blind on the second
side of the famous Eli Museum, Smith offers a logo sniffing
a panda, changes the panda to the house of a panda; the first
of Ainu A's first leaves of pine from Europe and Europe,
Janusz D. Inasatayn's king free from Europe, from God
came to the chairs, to get them out of plastic to change
the change of Robert's Garlic cam plastic to listen to those
who sleep, talking about the songs of the modern country
computer for their country.

The pain on the screen. State news NA, AA, Angel Star Star,
Fish Fish; Housekeeper Listening to a Catholic alcoholic,
Jack started writing, I can start taking brothers and sisters
from a pale mating marriage contractor and natural body
weight in general order to **** my studies in bed, skimming,
Peace and Freedom of the Sabbath.   What is education?
In this world in society, this is the best solution. This is not a victim
of lost plans. But he makes the right choice to paint in the air.
Multi-sided knife, tears, sound, greeting, dance, dance, ****.
Mary's favorite walls without a car. The film is a thin layer
of irrigation, which often recently coincides with the language
of the region. Bad rains. Jewish girls are frightened by a dog.
It was propaganda. For example, it is a scoop with water
and a bottle with cold water. unconscious spirits; These are big legs;
These were the Australian German philosophers and how does it work?
HP high-speed ads are not allowed in the article. (1.1) Dow
and Igor Green; The school of the United States of America
is different. I could not,
I did not go to the wind, I would like you to go ahead. This is not only Canada, but also Google, Syria, 66, said Daniel. This is a little girl
who has a lot of family. There are three feet of songs. It was the death
of the ocean, that it was a multimedia center. This is a woman who
lives in the middle of the world. The kids are in great shape. It is clear
that  there is a chance to do it. “If you write a letter on a white background,
you can write a letter. Eli's Museum is in the United States, Smith offers
its first tranquility. He was in the middle of a rainbow in the rain for his country's pain on the screen. Fatal? Beat it.

paint me a picture of you and i
paint me a picture of you loving me
sorry if that's too hard for you to imagine,
it's been so long since we've loved each other
paint me a picture of us when you told me you'd loved me for the first time
paint me a picture of us when first moved in together
it's been awhile since you've been in this apartment with me
paint me a picture of you leaving me through the kitchen door
paint me a picture of you with someone new
because that's too hard for me to imagine

Red,
Paint me red
The color of our passion, dear heart--
Until I realize you that you painted it
The color of rusty hinges.

Yellow,
Paint me yellow
Because I thought yellow was sunshine
And happy
Or maybe windswept afternoons
For dandelion wishes--
Until I saw that you painted me sickly green pale yellow, the color of hospital rooms and body fluids.

Paint me blue
A soulful sky blue,
I thought that you couldn't go wrong with blue--
But now I'm an indigo mess, very sad
Drowning--blue, I'm blue.

So paint me black
Like hateful ink
Or skies with no sun, no stars,
  I'll be a masterpiece then--
Or maybe I should've realized you're no painter, and I'm not a clean canvas anymore.

Why must I write using imagery?

Should I paint words as if those words
were canvases?
Should I paint words as if by coloring them,
I could draw the eye of the reader into my poems?
Should I just paint and paint words
for the sake of painting an image
into the reader's mind?
Should I?

Ah!

Should I just paint words for them to see
what reality does not allow them to see?
Should I paint words for them to feel,
what reality does not allow them to feel?

Or Should I just paint words and become an artist, and don't care about anything else, not about me holding a brush, not about me, having colors,
Just about me, painting what I see,
What I feel, while I paint words with whatever I have in my hands.

Should I?

have you ever made a spider a Palestinian? i have, today, refreshing the paint-job on the back of my house, a whole family strutting away from fresh paint being applied (poets cure boredom, they simply don't know it), the cardigans erase & rewind, my uncle would be perfect with his age to work out the demographics - my age circuit, 30 and listening to the palette of those in full-throttle of the 1990s - anyway, refreshing the paint on the back of my house, not for dough, but for the sweat of my brow - learning i succumb to acrophobia on the ladder - but i did it anyway... i love phobias, they're not the fear, they're like a box of chocolates... you never know what will make you startle... it's not permanent, phobias shouldn't be considered permanent, they're too reflexive... and we all know that nibbling them in the reflective realm immediately suggests irrationality, not to a reaction, but to a continuum of a reaction: a ladder, a giant spider to boot. but i never watched a spider eat fresh paint... watched the ******* do the nibble on paint... ***** - a getty cardinal spider shooting paint pollutants with its leg, eating the Chernobyl cocktail, the rainbow melt in a puddle of oil spill... junkies everywhere; so that done, a beer and a quick look at the Olympics...

if table tennis was as relevant as table tennis -
i prefer table tennis,
judo is too cool too - classic Greek wrestling
with feet to match the hands -
i think in terms of the Olympics we're in
the Gobi desert - so many sports are shown only
once every 4 years, the once that don't make the dough...
i'd prefer the Olympics without the pop culture
exponents that keep us hungry for spectacles
during the 4 years apart -
hand-ball, Romania thrashed by Angola -
ladies first, of course,
and weight-lifting, weighs in at 48kg and lifts
80+kg... well Jihad John versus G.I. Jane...
a pretty match up... look, i came from a certain background
i won't be making politically correct statements,
if it weren't for my personal initiative i'd be scooping
grub from an industrial flat surface roof like my father...
i don't mind getting paid... i just love the fact that i will
and if ending up homeless, i have enough heart already
to start a religion, or something.
of course i'll miss my personal library of books and albums,
who wouldn't? i'll join the divorcee crew and it'll be
like it always was supposed to be.
but am i really that ridiculous? think about it,
i use ridiculous words in my vocabulary, after all i went
to a catholic school, it was bound to happen -
not true secular cool, sorry -
but is my usage of certain words completely penniless
more ridiculous in the form of an oligarch buying
a pearl entombed in a custard pie? of a yacht for a month
at Monte Carlo? seriously? if i utilise the words
Paraclete or Antichrist after just skimmed rereading of
a psychiatrist's religious venture in Jung's *answer to Job
am i as ridiculous as those barons?
i don't think so... i read that book like Flaubert instructed
concerning all books: read in order to live it -
a book is a transplant, some leave a heart, come a ****,
some a brain, some a pint of blood with a book...
i hope to leave the worm of hell licking your ear for a sloppy
Jim - read Jung... almost atypical German Christian
intelligentsia byproduct, neutral Swiss just after the second
world war... Freud read Nietzsche and so did Mussolini...
****** was very much Jung... it's a strange book...
we all know that the Greeks hijacked Judaism...
the Romans were like: whatever that meant...
shoved it into a cauldron of the prefix omni-
and attributed to the prefix geographies and geometries
all inclusive (herr deutsche came along though) -
but the Greeks hijacked the oddity of Judea at that
special time because they had scientific inclinations
rather than aesthetic inclinations of the Romans,
and they wanted answers... got **** all...
it's not the Jews that thought the Greek involvement
ridiculous, it was the Romans... hence the omni-
and -presence, -potency, etc. - the Greeks just had
those mythical names for ****... Logos, Sophia...
that's the funny thing with mythology and history -
the book of Revelation by the looks of it simply looks
like a redemption of Oedipus... mythology is a logic
of history where either none was recorded on papyrus
since no one required hush-hush intrigue talk and people
spoke to each other face to face rather than to a profile -
mugs and mustard seeds -
you can always buy the book, C. G. Jung answer to Job,
it's peppered with too much Greek, and very little
Roman care... the theological addition of a globalised world
(under monotheism, failed and thriving, whichever)
is bound to play the montage of omni- and simply add -
God = omnivocab - i have my limitations of words -
i had to censor or rather select a vocabulary in order
to process the interchanges to reach a conclusive churning
without an ultimate goal other than to preserve a continuum,
like Balzac boring everybody with the 19th instalment of
the human comedy. so after reading this book on religious
matters by a psychiatrists i'm sorta bothered...
i'm tripping... obviously not seeing any hyper-geometry
of your choice... i just think the Greeks did the most horrid
hoarding and looting know to man... which reflected
the looting of Byzantium and never reaching the Holy Land...
the barbarians never cared to be honest, they only
started caring when they started to castrate the boys
for the "holy" choir rather than circumcise them...
then they went Berserk... the book of revelation can only
mean the quantum mechanics of history, bound to
mythology - Oedipus was very real... the blackened
heart of Greeks even though Aristotle, Socrates, Plato...
that intellectual import and expression didn't help...
after all Eddie Gein gave birth to the latter part of the 20th
century pop culture... Texas Chainsaw... Haemorrhoid Hannibal,
House of a 1000 Corpses.. history and journalism
dismisses mythology, i dismiss journalism as simply
a hyper-sensitivity that keeps dialectics out of the picture,
a monologue of opinions... mythology just doesn't seem
that insensible given our perspective into history with Darwin
and millions of years ago with the sea-turtles... you know
how gossip works... it sooth the reality of it had happened...
because we prefer oysters and chicken thighs to digest than
the tales of Eddie, oh yeah... Fe Maiden... d'uh!
the Greeks looted the Hebrews to purge themselves of
Oedipus... the weakness came by keeping estranged with
Narcissus and iconoclasm... you want an extract?
bombshell blonde at your bidding -
assumptio mariae: mary as the bride is united with the son
in the heavenly-chamber, and as sophia, with the godhead.
basically Mary is a schizophrenic ****-child of lust
for a Roman centurion who makes the story of a ****** birth
her wish to bed-wet her son (Jesus) into joining **** John
and Toe into her ****** (***** *****, like her already)
in heaven - she thinks her body will **** her "******-birth"
son and her wisdom (Sophia is her alias, or nickname)
will **** god in the head. oh hell this is sacrilege -
i'm not afraid of it... boo! ha! caught you mouth dry with the
boogie man. so this is a psychiatrist reasoning his religion...
as i said, the Greeks had no omni- Roman put the **** back
into his boots before he starts river-dancing...
all these quizzical ultra-mythical words that the Greeks
used starting with the Logos and Hippocrates were attached
to the failed Platonism of the unconverted Damocles principle
and the tyrant succumbing to drink and never bound to
a sober wish for anything more - (i'm guessing his intentions
were laid with Nietzsche as source of discipleship) - in short
let's just say that Platonism failed in practice,
and it needed a populist movement, a redemption from
the curse of Oedipus came from Hebrew with the schizoid-birth,
Joseph bin Adam was: better bite that ****** of the cow-fruit
and remind her of the stoning practices around here -
oh it's all pretty much Eastenders around here, it's
not the ******* Vatican marble corridors, we're talking
Gaza dust sneezing while whipping the donkey's *** to
move along... split-mind: beautiful metaphor... premature
dementia, obviously misunderstood... if premature "dementia"
while so much creativity among the split-minded...
it's like all the zodiac signs became jealous of Gemini,
incorporating Gemini-Solipsism... well, i have a neck like a bull
and a *****-count like a charging bull... but the thinking
behind the 3.a.m. is kinda staggering... oh right, you want
more quirky clues from Jung's book:
- silvia loret
- maritza mendez
- aria giovanni             (get a hybrid and i'll believe in Disneyland) -
****, that ain't what i was going to write, never mind,
you get a chance to see the palette of what's fudge for
fucky-fucky sized 16+ and what the Renaissance men
knew would be better than duck-feathers in pillows;
- meister eckhart: gott ist selig in der seele
- puer aeternus: vultu mutabilis albus et ater
    (of changeful countenance, both white and black)
- pius XII's apostolic constitution (munificentissimus dei)
   words like muni-imus really make you train in
    grammatical arithmetic, don't they? playing doctor with
   them as to where to cut them for a aqua format of rivers
   is quiet like reciting a 5x table up to 30 (sometimes)
- oportebat sponsam, quam pater desponsaverat, in θalmis caelestibus habitare (the bride whom the father had espoused had to abide in the heavenly bridal-chambers): st. john damascene (encomium in dormitionem);

summa summarum?
Nietzsche answered Job... this is my answer to Jung as also an answer to Lot - **** your daughters, your wife turns into a pillar of salt... and i equate that as a precursor to the man of sorrows on the ****** crucifix - salt is a metaphor for misery (that's etymology for you); and the Roman phonetic encoding survived over the fates of Egyptian and Babylonian is precisely why the adopted son of Caesar later made his uncle's adopted nephew his successor - as with the four dogma canon gospels, we're replicas of the tetragrammaton... well... i was never confirmed, i'm one short of joining the god-men that came out from catholic school after choosing a name for themselves they could have changed not having wished to be known by the two names given to them by their parents... few did... i just ended up an acronym of Einstein: M C E.

Test Ting Won To Tree
By
Charles Fleischer







Rifleman decal water is to Tiny basket liners as Strained yo-yo string is to?
Dark wool glowing is to Oldest lost oddity as First genetic engine is to?
Black quail taint is to Nut curdled paint as Hemp biscuit dominoes are to?
Steam traced paper is to Lemon ash vapor as Digital ****** wig is to?
Eccentric brine mimes are to Electric silk slacks as Spark formed lava is to?
Sunchoked black hornets are to as Rescued orphan doves as Retold cat jokes are to?
Hand traced videos are to Braided rubber spines as Opal rain dancers are to?
Halogen anchor gong is to Annoying bread portraits as Soft bracelet lockers are to?
Old troll bios are to Select cherub echoes as Broken matchstick parasols are to?
Dome nine chariots are to Frayed lunar remnants as Fuming honey flasks are to?
Bluing assault operas is to Beading fluted flowers as Magnetic lawn tweezers are to?
Converted flea sponges are to Floating dog murals as Frozen Archie comics are to?
Molded road pads are to Crusty gumdrop thread as Straw ribbed pelicans are to?
Inflatable diamond vowel is to Single gender raffle as Groovy desert coffee is to?
Temporary solution radiation is to Idiotic witness mumble as Motorized marshmallow kit is to?
Panoramic utopian paranoia is to Aggravated **** silhouettes as Unhinged gun sellers are to?
Homesick ghost pajamas is to Virtuous fly fungus as Royal sandpaper gloves are to?
Gangster hayride tickets are to Deer milk Oreos as Turnip fairy maps are to?
Glue gun **** is to Nocturnal cabin mice as Cab fare corn is to?
Speckled fish nickels are to Under water bric-a-brac as Epic snakeskin paisley is to?
******* bungalow pranks are to Drowsy vapid oafs as Quantized cavern fish are to?
Raunchy snail kimono is to Coiled time dice as Smeared equator malt is to?
Metallic centaur franchise is to Transparent cheese chess as Spotted glacial remnants is to?
Sky fused pong is to Rustic mothers brattle as Granulated canister ointment is to?
Overgrown maze mule is to Mated smugglers hugging as Floating thesaurus exam is to?
Sliding coed sprinkler is to Soapy whitefish rebate as Precious lamb diaper is to?
Mushy acorn luster is to Lilac protein rings as Slapstick wrestler dialect is to?
Freaky plankton bells is to Rolling horse divorce as Morphing morphine lips are to?
Sticky razor sparkle is to Emerald muscle spasm as Glaring cat cipher is to?
Peppy unisex mustache is to Pelican fighter syndrome as Clumping night grumble is to?
Scanning paired pearls are to Ruby rubbed roaches as Satanic sailor flotsam  are to?
Glowing asteroid solder is to Ideal shark data as Failed frail doilies are to?
Numb nuts boredom is to Fantastic icy phantoms as Sporadic silk creations is to?
Crooks crow chow is to Loading spackled bonder as Gargled snowdrop blasters are to?
Outdid myself today is to Outside myself again as Outlived myself controls is to?
Venting shuttlecock upset is to Texting badminton kitten as Settler tested motels are to?
Prepare paired vents is to Prefer paid events as Pretender predicts fiction is to
Crunchy mental fender is to Catching mentor menace as Poorly seasoned lettuce is to?
Outside sidewalk inside is to Seaside outcast input as Sideways landslide victory is to?  
Compile fake password is to Compost world poo as Compose village anthem is to?
Crooked crotch blunder is to Loud crowd thunder as Divine vine finder is to?
Chucks’ wooden truck is to Bucks good luck as Sticky ducks tucked is to?  
Overhaul underway overseas is to Overturned downsized pickup as Underground onramp overloaded is to?
I’ll bite there is to Aisle byte their as Isle bight there is to?
Gnat gnawed wrist is to ***** show beans as See through putty is to?
Flapping floppy guppies are to Buzzing zipped dozers as Muddy ****** strippers are to?
Dark diagonal dialogue is to Diabolical dihedral die as Interesting circadian exposition is to?
Experimental flossing expectations are to Waxed dental traps as Permanent impermanence resolution is to?  
Outran ringside intrigue is to Sidetracked onboard boatload as Loaded firearm topside is to?
Phony ****** phone is to Chewy ego honey as Yogi Mama’s dada is to?
Nimble teardrop squiggle is to Humble cage curtains as Loyal truckstop morals are to?
Torching curled elastic is to Sonic neighbor clamor as Golden droplet integers are to?
Duplex pupil scanners are to Nacreous cloud clocks as Shrouded flute shops are to?
Lawn rocket tendrils are to Finding surreal borders as Sheep monarchs children is to?
Gloating ungloved squires are to Busting double doubters as Pushing woeful doctors are to?
Tricking snowbelt firedogs is to Panmixing blackened haywires as Unclothed shameful leaders are to?
Malicious ranch ritual is to Internal puppet bubble as Ornate underworld masquerade is to?
Rustic debonair Eskimos are to Mindless sassy elves as Gorgeous somber acrobats are to?
Learned earthy pimps are to Fearless sneaky Queens as Somber gentle vagrants are to?
Shocking horse wear is to Glossy sled fluid as Damaged chipmunk tongue is to?
Traditional agony chart is to Damp voodoo motel as Backwoods museum quote is to?
Magical cat cabin is to Dapper porpoise humor as Malicious graveyard foam is to?
Therapeutic gazelle cushion is to Stored alibi equipment as Stunning tempo light is to?
Fantastic rascal art is to Wasted prune dust as Jupiter’s ****** law is to?
Little nut razor is to Gigantic hyena shield as Hourglass pillow fever is to?
Coiled rain clouds are to Dizzy tycoon clowns as Lime eating cowards are to?
Possessive epicurean demonstrators are to Faded eavesdropping giants as Determined swanky drunks are to?
Aquatic preview pocket is to Soggy judicial topiary as Finicky hamster fabric is to?
Enlarged fruit cuff is to Obedient mumbling orchestra as Dark tenant tariff is to?
Recycled flash thermometer is to Botched temptation probe as Pet glider grid is to?
Seriously shy idols are to Costly driving perfumes as Ferryboat chapel wine is to?
Winged jalopy details are to Faithful spectral fathers as Sprinkled mint rainbows are to?
Spelling unneeded words is to Sprouting donut ***** as Blaming mellow mallrats are to?
Eroding loom keepsake is to Magnificent accordion canoe as ***** bongo fumes are to?
Souring violet ink is to Juvenile insult park as Periodic ferret envy is to?
Obedient boyfriend aroma is to Sanitized fat lozenges as Dramatic jailer garb is to?
Mysterious patrol group is to Dynamic maiden discharge as Captured hurricane ratio is to?
Lackadaisical bigot bingo is to Oblong care merchant as Expensive swamp shampoo is to?
Petite orifice worship is to Atomic barge pet as Plucked hair exhibit is to?
Elite officer wallop is to Automatic yard rake as Healing ****** glitter is to?
Needless swan costume is to Giant jungle goat as Organic picnic napkin is to?
Leaky jet steam is to Innovative fascist whistle as Enchanting idol evidence is to?
Plastic mascara seduction is to Greasy thermal ointment as Attractive muskrat crease is to?
Lucky camel pills are to White coral Torah as Eternal stage clutter is to?
Roasted oat **** is to Sloppy *** glue as Nylon table debt is to?
Steep nook catastrophe is to Empty dome damage as Pulsing breeze powder is to?
Empty sack power is to Hitched buck stroke as Red claw warning is to?
Ultra brief slogan is to Yummy lab mutant as Pathetic ball armor is to?
Nauseating fish splatter is to Obstinate ****** twitch as Strained ***** coffee is to?
Mezzanine intermission fossil is to Proven **** apathy as Golden duck shroud is to?
Civil tutors torment is to Thor’s posted theory as Yellow melon rain is to?
Immense olive raft is to Exploding kangaroo buffet as Ethereal witness index is to?  
Marching dark speeders are to Searing scribble fighters as **** tripping sinners are to?
Seeping viral angst is to Aged hermit tea as Murky bowl nibble is to?
Condensed blister guzzle is to Pink dorsal pie as Lavish speckled runt is to?
Needy insult poet is to Sedated acorn trader as Dry honey zoo is to?
Veiled trust flicker is to Deranged poser fashion as Flat sizzle tangent is to?
Purified diet spray is to Nebulous wishing target as Thrilling screen dope is to?
Majestic ribbon astronomy is to Bizarre formation sector as Rebel bell gimmick is to?
Sealed dart whisper is to Green silk draft as Cold vacuum varnish is to?
Clumsy raven power is to Insect island circus as Minted mink drapes are to?
Curved map ruler is to Tiny lethal radio as Blue fused metal is to?
Inverted laser invasion is to Damp sheep dump as Puffy gown smoke is to?
Saucy Channel blazer is to Leather goat filament as Starched locomotive hat is to?
Broken jumper leads are to Disgraced mini exorcists as Designer shamrock caulk is to?
Tweaked poachers smokes are to Assorted sulfur pathways as Collected bedlamp trickle is to?
******* bungalow pranks are to Drowsy vapid oafs as Quantized cavern fish are to?
Crawling battle worms are to Vibrating metal pedals as Mentholated matrix wax is to?
Missing meshed rafts are to Liquid rock pipes as Crinkled bean bikinis are to?
Tithing **** joggers are to Perforated buck fronds as Leather zither picks are to?
Fearing truthful cowards is to Rambling preachers mumble as Gazebo ambulance gasoline is to?
Shelving elder’s whiskers is to Poaching goalies pesto as Radical tricycle angst is to?
Mucky gunboat polymer is to Primeval maypole flameout as Cathedral greenhouse intercom is to?
Diaphanous safety prize is to Unleashed saucer lion as Dorky blonde ropewalker is to?
Tapered spring meter is to Silver silo mythology as Misguided judges medallions are to?
Alligator x-ray money is to Cherry unicorn water as Coyote cactus toy is to?
Cowardly dorm scrooge is to Atomized pewter script as Flattened spore smoothies are to?
Trash can yodel is to Flashing wired spam as Exploding chocolate pudding is to?
Sonar blasted bushings are to Threading ruined wheels as Forty shifting boxes are to?
Tiny balloon rebellion is to Softened square cleanser as Iconic soul sucker is to?
Harmony night light is to Spanish nitrogen desire as Squirrel cavern iodine is to?

Lazy winter secret is to Slow airport widget as Silly mustard binder is to?
Elephants raising raisins are to Microscopic lamb planet as Purple hay puppets are to?
Caribou venom vaccine is to Electronic lemonade choir as Demonic princess massage is to?
Beet coated bridge is to Fattened needle point as Mylar monkey spine is to?
Ashy ink dust is to Youngest rabbi planet as Orange cartoon geometry is to?
Cold green chalk is to Cobalt ladder farce as ***** river filters are to?
Sublime sheep master is to Sleeping past rapture as Subliminal bliss jelly is to?
Ocean crust slippers are to Twigged germ radar as Popping sharpie scope is to?
Zen wrapped beep is to Oak foamed code as Wicked flashing sizzle is to?
Dew eyed sleigh is to Say I do as Act as me is to?
Humpback on hammock is to Ham hocking hummer as Hunchback with knapsack is to?
Corned flag jelly is to Draped wing chewers as Tripping swan acid is to?
Futuristic Rembrandt chant is to Almond likened meadows as Asian timber blue is to?
Nap in sack is to Flap on Jack as Ducks dig crack is to?
Flowing flavored lava is to Gleaming optic layers as Enhanced goose gibberish is to?      
Flag tied pajamas are to Saline checker choir as Speed reading quotas is to?
Whipped spam spasms are to Misted shaman scripture as Testing pitched bells is to?
Cave aged eggs are to Crowded tiger cages as ****** wagon pegs are to?
Pigeon towed car is to a Man toad art as Wolf whisker wish is to?
Second hand clothes are to Minute hand gestures as Final hour prayer is to?
Slick wicked shavers are to Tricky watch boxes as Sprouting pine tattoos are to?
Waxed stick ravens are to Match stick foxes as Narrowed thermal towers are to?
Ice cave rice is to Laced face lice as Gourmet pet **** is to?
Diamond lane anniversary is to Space age appropriate as Time travel agency is to?
Lime bark violin is to Lemon twig guitar as Lunar sky waffles are to?
Fake rat **** is to Smart cake batter as Rugged fur tax is to?
Tarred raft fluff is to Flaked rafter dust as Lined liquor flask is to?
Flakes will fall is to Take Bills call as Broken maze compass is to?
First faked voter is to Entombed cartoon honey as Smallest aching smurf is to?
Fancy bared ******* are to Flaky fairy treats as Kings amp filter is to?
Bone window folio is to Whittled fake pillow as Little fitted jackets are to?
Nine nuts brittle is to Ate pear pie as Six packed poppers are to?
Incandescent playground pencil is to Elastic hand worm as Perfumed piano ink is to?
Opal shifting anode is to a Windup lion decoy as Pale paisley trolley is to?
Stacked black boxes are to Old packed tracks as a Throwing micron hammers is to?
Apricot bark furnace is to Merry Orchid Choir as an Ivory rinsing funnel is to?  
Narcotic honey nuts are to Slick flag toffees as Silk fig sugar is to?
Orange coin raisins are to Low note candies as Smelling balled roses is to?
Pocket packed monotints are to Tragic ladder hayracks as Ravishing speed traders are to?
Crayon spider resin is to Coral squirrel forceps as Wolf tumbled loaf is to?  
Silver wheat flies are to Width shifting wheels as Golden blister blankets are to?
Really tiny hippopotamus is to Masked fat podiatrist as a Sad sack psychiatrist is to?
Miniature Mesopotamian monuments are to Apple minted elephants as Raising wise ravens is to?
Lathered nymph nacre is to Sonic ion constellations as Concealed iron craft is to?  
Epic gene toy is to Ladies bubble sled as Jagged data bowl is to?
Bugged dagger bag is to Pop sliced meld as Atom bending moonlight to?  
Rural madam’s deed is to Dyed dew dipper as Eight sprayed dukes are to?
Jiffy grand puffer is to Floating altar myth as Vintage dark mirth is to?
Undercover overnight underwear is to Overpaid undertaker overdosing as Overheard understudy freebasing is to?

Black grape crackle is to Red cactus ruffle as Installing padded pets are to?
Snide snobs sniffing are to Sneaky snails snoring as Snared snipes sneezing are to?
Exploring explosive exits is to Explaining expansive exports as Expecting expert exchange is to?
Shrewd logic ledger is to Puppets dropping cupcakes as Placated topaz octopi are to?
Door roof tools are to Cool wool boots as Wood cooked root is to?
Bright fight light is to Night flight fright as Mites bite site is to?
Floor flood fluid is to Wooden door Druid as Nasty **** broom is to?
Accurate police photography is to Intelligent microbe geography as Condensed aerosol biography is to?
Cowardly cowboy grime is to Corpulent corporate crime as Bosnian dwarf necromancer is to?
Jell-O clearing shaker is to Brillo cleaning shiner as Cheerios bowling shields are to?
Mumbled mindless hokey is to Fumbled found money as Humming kinder bunny is to?
Daisy’s clock setter is to Lilly’s boxer toxin as Poodles rose paddle is to?
Watch Bozo Copernicus is to Hire Clarabelle Newton as Find ***-wee Einstein is to?
Amethyst thistle whistles is to Lapis pistol whip as Diamond bomb scar is to?
Dandelion seahorse rescue is to Crabapple dogwood farm as Faux foxglove lover is to?    
Optical poppy stopper is to Polar halo lens as Day-Glo rainbow sticker is to?
Savanna leopard spotted is to Eskimo lassos kisses as Alligator lemonade standard is to?
Bill of Rights is to Will of left as Thrill of night is to?
Baptize floozies quickly is to Useless outsized nozzles as Puzzled wizard wanders is to?        
Chaps wearing chaps are to Chaps contesting contests as Consoling concealed consoles is to?
Quiet squirming squirrels are to Aeon beauty queens as Queasy greasy luaus is to?
Knew new gnu is to Sense scents cents as We’ll wheal wheel is to?
Blazing zingers ringing are to Wheezing singers flinging as Freezing finger number are to?
Lamb tomb jogger is to Dumb numb **** as Thumbed crumb bug is to?

Blue accordion casket is to Jaded scholar ***** as German mushroom circus is to?
President George Flintstone is to Funny Fred Washington as Abraham Jetson’s dog is to?
Google Desmond Tutu is to Kalamazoo Zoo Park as Zodiac actors Guru is to?
Swamp cradled whisperer is to Cherished drawbridge cello as Bludgeoned prankster outlaws are to?
Dukes pink mittens are to Smeared nest carava