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Ken Pepiton Dec 2018
Taken, gotten, or made, the point of anything
can pierce through everything…

slow
Slow think,
make real

re-al-ize
what fighting for life is…
this is the only
try,
it is not a test.

Take your time, use it wisely,
if that means anything.
Wise, I meant.
No offence, if wise is anathema to your kind,
die,
die if I knocked the reason for being right
outa you,
did you hear cognitive dissonance?
did it sound like
this. LOUD?
listen,
rolling rolling rolling
crash crumble rolled in nurse rime frosted
fables of monsters and maids
Thor, witharoar likka Lion King?

or the light brigade,
CHARGE?

thunder words from lost generations of
reasonless riddles for children,

Why did Peter Pumpkin-eater have a wife, but
couldn't keep her here?
Was that okeh? Oh, wait.
Ah, I see, I say,
they never tell that whole story any more.

Know why? They forgot it. In the war.

Duck'n'cover,no
crying, how long?
When begins forever? Did no one tell you, child?

Taken or made, the point of anything
can pierce through everything
like it was nothing, given
enough pre-sure-sup
poser-power

War, as a game, has a reason.

Battle, hitting, slapping

stop touch, stop now slap
slap back

or cry
oh no no ma

waddayahsay?  A theist or atheist
who started this war?

space case, or
lover of wisdom, met on the road
to Emmaus, discussing Wiles's proof
firming Fermi's connection to the matter of fear,
3, 2, 1

Kaboom, but with a whump you feel in your teeth

1, 2, 3 Fermat's last theorem ,
easy as pi an no re me

ABC to
Michael Jackson to
Howard Bloom because he

inadvertently, began
an-ionic converstatic re-vibe time warp
meme,
which vibe, started the legendary Sixties. I was alive.
Radioman,
a sixty cycle white-noise humm heard every where these days

There was a gospel song, "Turn Your Radio On".
my theme, open the window in the top of your head,
as it were,
a new,
as new as

a novel-state of water, H three Ohs, re-al-ity ification,
Ah, a shared Oh, I remember now, how this works…

like a poem

at the edge of a water vapor bubble in a boiling body of water,
at the edge of the bubble, water becomes a wall of water,
not vapor, not flowing liquid,

but a wall, insulating the vapor in pressing opposing force
to permit, from permission,
meaning with a message same as the message,

is that the right word? per-mission-grant, is power given,
agency,
that idea….
wait for the sign….?

By sharing an ion ic bond as a quest to make a point
for a free story to go,
the question marks you. Let the snake dance.

Press your point,

whetted edge,

slice through ties holding worthless axioms
with withered dendrites dangling disconnected
in participles
unfired for centuries muttering,
enchanting, enthralling enchained melodies
of ambitious syllables vying for idle minds
to rope in,
unbranded, wild
bucking ideas,
whip-twig, slap-face,
tanglewood  thicket, catclaw and mesquite,
willow,

wait.
And the old man remembered the willow whistle,
so He asked Grandfather,
How is such a whistle made?
And when he knew,
he made one.

A willow whistle with two notes,
like an Oscar Meir Wiener one.

-- and that was a different time
I got lost here, bucked up…
maybe
--- listen, way back--- we-ain't whistlin' Dixie---
we ain't marchin', as t' war.

D'thet mean some sign to pro-phet -ic take?
Tophet?
Ancient cannon fodder shield walls,
a moaning
Pro-phy-lactic warning of the danger of not
knowing exactly
what a war is for?

Get back on,
relieved of any idle baggage words believed
to mean other than I say.

Nullify
Idle words with cultural meanings from
what you thought you knew when you feared hell.

Loose
those peer-locked memes
made of meaninglessness, per se,

shaped and molded into fashions
of expression, once needles and awls,
now, dull as tinker's damns for swearing,
with any effect.

But tools, none the less, a stitch in time took a tool.
An awl or a needle, and a thread, thick or thin,
dependin' on the mendin' needed
to redeem an idle word,
its meaning all bloodied with the tyranny of time.

An awl or a needle,
a tool for a task, mending a tear
where curses, never meant, spent
the entire dark ages, lying, lying, lying

powerless, pointless aimless, proverbial proverbial proverbial
verbiage, vaneless shafts launched at unseen marks,
signs, as it were, a spark,
triggers,
rumored since the sixties,
the first sixties, when Cain killed Able.
Howard Bloom was but a mere gleam
in our mito-mother's eye,
but, no doubt,

his role is real,
in loosing the forces Ferlinghetti locked in
City Lights mystery of secret meanings room,
which un
mystified and blew away upon opening
the door to
meanings mapped on
scrolls rolling and unrolling
idle ideas,
rites of passage, as it were,
Pre-bat-bar-mitz vah
as a fashion
like VBS,

to tickle little minds and make em wiggle.
MEMEMEME, I did it,
mea culpa,

the holy place
Here we are…

On Vacation, leave a message.
-----

See, wee hairs in your ears wiggle, making,
signaling, the need

to scratch that itch, that itching hearing feeling ear… hear that

don't scratch, listen

listen

60 cycle humm, steady, bass, but no thump whumpwhump;
soft, deeep.
ooooooooo or mmmmmmmm or in betwixt, steady thrumm
hear another, and another… sixty in a second,

one in every million ambits twisting,
threading qubits, radiating signals in the field
wireless, blue-tooth... satellite...

can you feel that?

hummmms, all around us, since the womb.
We are not the children of the greatest generation,

We are the children of the last generation of
**** sapiens sapiens non-augmentable-us.

We, the augmented, recycled ideas,
possessing
minds of Adamkind,

is that a secret or a sacred?
Is this
a new thing, an
unknown unknown known known now?

Ah,
novelty.

Whose is fear? Who was afraid of Virginia Wolf?

Should I remain in fear of her now, if I knew why then?
God would know such answers.
Proving my imagined AI guides are not God,
but lesser beings,

haps I recall.
I defined these things,
these thoughts that shape themselves,
forming words and phrases
I saw
shiny. Crow-like,
gleams seen, captured and claimed mine,
I tucked them away,
a sign in a thought in an imagined image made 4
real once more, to be seen from the shore,
new land new world
a fourth for some, a fifth or more for others...

haps happen, I'm not sure how,

Born or emerged, as a bubble, what do you say?

Reserve judgment.
Grant me your grace for now, until you solve my riddle.

Ah, the old way.
Right. Which way,  'ere, 'ear
and do we roll the rock with silent haitch or harsh, shhh

someone's waking up,
a bit grumpy,
don't you dare oppose me in this, the kid is certainly my son

Michael went stark raving mad when I told him, Billie Jean knew better all along...
the link, axiomatic,
the fatherless child has been claimed

hence, the thread to Howard Bloom, meme-ic,
meme-ic, like the Roadrunner,

but with the real Coyote, as the hero in this bit of
whatever, such meandering maundified maun maund  
mound

wind blown crystal silicon dunes
mounded up to that point where granulated
beens and dones

begin to slide at an angle,
a ***** deter-mind by the weight of the rock

We made it.
I know where this is.

This is a novel that has Sisyphus being happy
as the main premise behind the idea of anyone ever being
able, en abled, or un-dis-abled or un-dis-enabled,
if one of those is right,

Sisyphus being happy
is the main premise behind
the idea of anyone ever being glücklich,
happy, blessed, lucky.

How happy is your ever after?
When did forever begin?

"A man is as happy as he makes up his mind to be"
Abe Lincoln, is said to have said,
after the seance, maybe.

You push on, dear reader, make some sense
re-ligare or relegare, but take a stitch,

pull-tight,
do what works the first time as far as it goes, and try each, as needed,
it may be that we invented this test.
To make us think it is a test,
to sort ourselves out.

Get back on,

see who went crazy and who found the thread, if the same thread
this is that, right,
the same train of thought,
the same idea
spirit wind
sign
?
A snake facing west standing tippy-tail on a singularity;
a point in time?

Why are you reading this?
Curiosity Shoppes trade in interesting, alluring, click-bait

Pay attention, watch, you shall see

imagine this is the dream,
the stream, the flow, the current, the cream

in a dime coffee at the drug store on the corner

the rounded-corner, in a square-cornered town,
the most right corner of the twelve that quarter what it was

Punctuate, wait, imagine you read ancient Hebrew or Greek and there
are no dyer diacritical's who can twist one's
end tensions into knots

dread extensions, we could sell those,
is that an idea? did somebody
sell white folks dread extensions and black folk dolly pardon wigs?

Did that happen the real real?

-----
Battlefield Earth, oshit
scientology ology ology ology

allaye allaye outs in free

WE we wee every we you imagine you are good in, we

We have a war to win again, we heroes rolling from your
myths of Sisyphus torn from minds trampled
in the mud beyond the Rhine,

Mushrooms. magi are aware, you are aware, of course,
this course includes Basic Mycelium Net Adaptation or Augmentation
BMNAA, eh? So you know.

Camus and many of his ilk were ill-treated, the questions
they asked were memorized, maybe in our cribs ala
Brave New World.

We are all Alphas, always were, of course, you know.

Shall we imagine

more? Re-legare, eh, sistere. Point .(Back to the top.)

or agree? Make peace.
Practice, like Eazy-Bake,
the cook must swallow the first bite. May the best cook win.
A continuing examination of opposing forces when good is the goal, who could be against that? The old word war is festering, inflaming evil to start a try, therefore,  I whet the edge and swing wide
Casey Mar 2019
I hate the word "perfect".


Nobody can be perfect.
It's literally impossible.

They say, "Don't change, you're perfect as you are."
Humans can't be perfect.
It's not in our nature.

Our media portrays perfection as people's personalities painted in pretty pastel.
Don't be fooled.
Perfection is disgusting.

Perfection
is tearing your hair out over a simple dashed line
in front of the "A" on the report card.

Perfection
is raking chewed cuticles across your cheeks
for missing the kick in Phy. Ed class.

Perfection
is spilling your guts out after every meal and screaming into the mirror,
"Am I perfect yet?! Am I good enough for you?!"

Perfection
is ripping apart the artwork you poured your heart into
because someone pointed out a flaw, and now you can't unsee it.

Perfection
is gorging on painkillers
as if they would take away the emotional pain, too.

Don't you dare tell me that I'm perfect
because perfection is disgusting.


I hate the word "perfect".
I'm tired of people saying that perfection is something to glorify and strive for. Some people are literally broken apart by the expectations of perfection.
softcomponent Dec 2013
curse the cigarette per
ched between the inde
x and the middle on th
e left and curse it's phy
sical continuity from w
rist to arm to elbow to s
houlder to ribs to torso t
o leftleg to  leftfoot cram
ped in campus awkward
slytherin shoelace concre
te sidewalk enter McDon
ald's and see u are trappe
d --- yer surrounded and p
oundin yer head on a wris
twatch of visceral grease an
d invincible greed and invis
ible seeds of 'why cryin' ol' c
hild why cryin'?'
Mateuš Conrad Mar 2017
that's almost sandinavian in origin,
the missing grapheme of d ******* j
for a d'yeah...
  what do you call someone, drinking,
propped up on the windowsill?
io? oh right yu... ю      you...
yew? you yew you you?
                  ?
                     tree-hugging.
personally? i found that poetry (beside
the 20the century) are horrid, in that
they are rigid,
a bit like braking a shin good...
         who the **** what's a broken ankle?
limbo heaven darling:
  the ankle and wrist is already borken,
we're talking about those elongated bits...
     funny you should, i said quo vadis?
to my anaesthetist when i had "wisdom"
teeth removed...
once upon a time a muslim friend of mine
corrected me about the difference
between physicist and physician...
phy phy my ***... we thought that by eating
pork i contracted kuru...
i mean: what are the odds?
               i ate too much salt-meat which means
i ate human flesh... maybe kuru comes
from the notion that human flesh doesn't
require seasoning for the added fetish effect?
it's never bread and wine,
given there's no salt, pepper or butter.
          **** me aren't the greeks funky cool with
their ******* about a crimminal (of jewish origin)?
it's like: foundation layer a. we will have..
foundation layer b. we will not have...
foundation layer c. evangelicals hurrah!
   i was really onto asserting what the correct word
was for that weird **** they do in the ukraine...
apparenly is has a name in many variations;
there the noun [ɦoˈpɑk]: a language so abrupt
in ' it being used / in terms os usage... that no one
really does... linguistic *******...
   but the curiosity is concerning greek
translates into cyrillic... it's the gamma (Г)...
it's called a hopak for a reason... chłopak... boy...
it does denote the concept that only boys dance
this dance... i've ate
russian orange caviar and the ulranian borsh
of beetroots... me full...
        but who the **** writes this *******
more serious than the journalistic infirmary?
                exactly when did Г ≠ G,
but instead "E" / eta Hη?
                              what's the part i missed?
some historical fact about Columbus?
                      some muslim who's nostalgia is *******
me off trying to revive the crusades?
that part?!
              if you reread the encoding the word i
entitled to be the title reads as: gopak...
   but if you revise it and spell it as it "ought"
to be spelled, it reads as: hopak... or chłopak...
which just means boy...
what?! you going to teach me how to read
                  czech republic you ****?
caron c (č)                          eh... h the stressor, not
a variant of eta...
                               čeh,
                 due to the caron the other c is missing,
and the h is marked to imply a hark...
and hry sound (y is a hollowed out version
of i... like a cave)
                          which means that (c with caron)
is the equivalent of
                                  č = cz = ch.
             i was originally a chemist, seems to me i'm
starting to get really ******* by english
on the internet, that ******* of returning to
the obelisk and writing              :)
on it...                 do i even look like i'm smiling?
given the minor problem that this is...
and given that i'm writing about it in youth
(30 ain't old)...
                  i'm starting to think it to be perfectly agreeable.
v V v May 2016
tachyphylaxis - tach·y·phy·lax·is (tāk'ə-fĭ-lāk'sĭs)  n.
1.    A rapidly decreasing response to pleasure following initial administration.

I didn’t know this
demon had a name.
Ugly as it is it fits,
a random mish-mash
of unpleasant sounds
and equal unpleasantness
felt.

I’ve known the *******
forever, manifest in vitamin cures
and psychological processes,
SSRI’s and stabilizers.

He attends to the end of
affectionate loving and all
the designer vacations
you've ever taken.

He is the golden handcuffs of
square foot home ownership
and his business cards are
set in silver.

To put it bluntly
his continuous presence
is intent on destruction
of any contentment.

He is all things along the way
that appear so promising at first
but never last.

Synonymous with tolerance,
antonymous with precedence,


the antagonistic leaven of all living.
,
Even to this day, I still think about the times,

That i held you in my arms and I looked you in the eyes.

Many seasons passed, still I keep you in my heart,

Losing you was stupid but we both played each our part.

Many nights, I wake up, panting, break out in a sweat,

Your smiling face and gorgeous eyes, now how could I forget?

Remember back, when we first met, you'd come find me at work?

I couldn't tell but later knew, we'd both flirt back and forth.

And honestly, i was surprised, a girl like you liked me??

That's when i stopped and thought about what you and me might be.



Took me a minute but soon I got a name and seven digits,

And promised you that I would call as soon as work was finished.

We'd conversate and contemplate, things were going great.

Your voice alone was soothing but now im thinkin 'wait'

Could this be a dream? I put those thoughts way back in mind.

When you'd speak to me, I would lose all track of time.

Seconds turned to hours, hours into days.

For now the time was ours, so lets not let it waste.



I was convinced as time went on, I knew you were the one.

You were my life, my everything, my star, you were my sun.

We were both king and queen, together, we would rule

You could grade our love on every subject in school.

Cuz I really loved her, her and all her crazy ways.

Our chemistry was perfect and we'd get a perfect A.

History, we aced it, and mathematics, easy.

Cuz one plus one, is one, we knew together that's what we'd be.

English a no-brainer but spanish was kinda harder.

We took phy ed and passed, then we took it a little farther.

I studied every inch of her, it was my favorite class.

She'd test me every day and every single day i'd pass.

She was the one, even a blind man could see.

Alone I am one half, she's the other part of me...
Dark n Beautiful Nov 2016
The mastered mind of the satanic deception
Satan greatest commodity for most human weaknesses.
*** sells! it destroy it distributes ,
a high volume of deception and wickedness
Where the gateway of strength emerges freely
as the soul of men unfold tremendously.

Literally and figuratively correct,
its label sensuality and prngr*phy
of the billion dollars *** industries:
A non-replaceable piece of the humans dignity
this humiliation of the world cast a gloom:
God never intended for it to be this way:

lust is selfish, an emotional force for some to endure:
Meaningful *** is a better option
if we can find it here on earth

From the invasion of the animal kingdom
to the big screen of Hollywood,
***, lies, and video tapes sells , it promotes:
Take back our strength of the self,
from the craves of the satanic passion and desires
It would one day end forever,
what have we contribute to this world?

Lust is selfish, an emotional force
Love is a better option!
when you look for the answer
the answer is yours
and yours alone!
It might comes off as a bit preachy...
Casey Dec 2018
for my dad


sorry i couldn't play sports you wanted me to
we both knew that my fate didn't lie in running
or golf,
or soccer.

sorry i couldn't be the perfect sweetheart daughter.
i couldn't pretend to be someone that i wasn't.
dresses,
lipstick,
blush,
flowing hair.
dysphoria.

sorry i couldn't always be happy and smiling.
i knew that you wanted some distraction
from what was happening with mom.
but, it got to me too.

sorry i couldn't be a straight 'A' student.
you knew i was capable of that.
but we knew with my restrictions that i would never earn an 'A' in phy. ed.
"what about uw-madison?" you would say.
and i always replied, "they're just letters."
just letters....yet they robbed me of motivation,
energy,
happiness.

sorry i never said anything you wanted me to say.
maybe that was why you would always hit my face
and never anywhere else.

sorry i didn't have any worthwhile talents.
i knew you hated my art.
you'd come into my room at times to look at it.
and scoff, and call it ****.

sorry i.....


No.


I'm not sorry that I can't be who you want me to be.
I'm not sorry for being who I am.
i don't think standing up for myself should be called 'attitude'.
Yenson Dec 2023
I have not found misery
But contentment and liberating Light
amongst ladened pygmies I stand head and shoulders above

So lets pity the Dividers
and the sordid indulgences of shysters
charlathans liars blamers decievers scallywags and larcenists

Tis the sweat off my brow
my aspiration and endeavours upholds
as does millions of others who in honest toil thrive and profit

Sham politburo hooligans
state half-wits spit anachronistic slogans
our Witchfinder General seeing silver spoons in meritocracy

Lazies do as lazy does
Never learning but heedlessly agitating
Puerile minds dividing projecting smearing and intimidating

Maniac fantasists deluded saps
Disingenuous failures hiding in plain sight
Cheats and sinners in glasshouses throwing stones

Dime store mobsters
Confused minds in haze exporting confusion
Mired in hate envy and jealousy they alienate enterprise and success

It’s monarchs it’s the elites
Well worn lies and excuses for the work-shy
There’s opportunities aplenty but dumb blamers point fingers

You can’t tell the truth
That you want something for nothing
That you’re the greedy and entitled sourly prodigals

Reds with red faced shame
dunce revolutionaries in Quixotic faux pas
the problem rests in you as you wallow in the divisive stench
whirling in the windmills of your rancid minds

He who took on the mantle stands
he who toiled hard to better himself stands
he who crossed oceans stands and even built more than you
with all your privileges what have you done to make yourselves
feel proud - oh yes, you throw stones and hide hands - bravo!!........ bravo!!
Melaka Jude Jul 2016
A Dark cloud rolls
Across the evening sky
As smooth as a pillow
But as mighty as the Giant 'Phy'

A few drops at first
Nothing to worry about
But as a low distant rumble is heard
Created there is "a shadow of doubt"

And suddenly, "BOOM!" shouts thunder
"FLASH!" says lightning
It sounds as though
The Gods are fighting

And down below
In fields of green lush
Nature is awaking
In this torrent rush

"Hallelujah" shouts the flowers
As they open up to the rain
"Hooray" shouts the bushes
As they are covered in a haze

"At last" says the trees
"We were tired of waiting"
"Haaaaaah" says the grass
As though just awaking

And a boy alone
On the outside varendha with a book
Calls to his mother saying
*"This is nature at its best, come on and have a look"
bluevelvet May 2017
set up,
pairs of three.
watcha
gonna do
when the
world stops
revolving
around you?
I'm still
into you-r
band, but
that's 'cause
you're a good
pre
form
er.
who am
I?
I already
know.
But since
you think
you do
too,
watcha still
gonna do?
my guess
is only
as good
as yours.
but don't
sweat it,
if that
doctor carrer
doesn't work
out, try
pho
togra
phy.
Casey Mar 2019
Today my knee popped again.
For the fifteenth time since it's began.

Skinned palms from breaking my fall.
Again, the hot blade of searing pain.
I hate how these are things I can perfectly recall.

I've sworn myself not to cry;
instead, my body goes into shock.
Screaming as if I were to die.

Catching my breath, the agony is finally over.
I used to be helped up from the ground.
But now, I get the cold shoulder.

In Phy Ed. class, they whispered that it was for attention.
I found that funny, considering I hate that.
And the brace, I would never mention.
Hello? Customer service? Can I get a refund? My knee doesn't seem to be working properly.
Yenson May 2021
“Social­ism is a phi­los­o­phy of fail­ure,
the creed of igno­rance, and the gospel of envy,
its inher­ent virtue is the equal shar­ing of misery.”

“I do not at all wonder that British youth is in revolt
against the morbid doctrine that nothing matters
but the equal sharing of miseries,
that what used to be called the ‘submerged tenth’
can only be rescued by bringing the other nine-tenths
down to their level…”

Socialism isn’t equality. Why should we be equal anyway? Who thought that up -well St-Juste and Robespierre, who created a tyranny based on terror that furnished the blueprint for communism. You have the ruling elite who control everything and the general public under their thumb so the elite can stay in power. Venezuela is a beautiful example of where socialism leads. Leftists are always hung up on theories and fantasies but never want to look at cold, hard reality.

” You cannot legislate the poor into prosperity by legislating the wealthy out of prosperity. You cannot multiply wealth by dividing it”

“If a man is 20 and not a Socialist, he has no heart. If a man is 40 and not a Capitalist, he has no head.”

We do not want gangster POLITICS
or
Gangster Politicians
Use your head to vote
let our dear Reds seize the minds of the youths
and make them failures, bullies and street thugs and hooligans
Red Loonies always want us all to suffer together
THEY CALL IT SOLIDARITY, THEY CALL IT PEOPLE'S POWER
Joshua Mar 2021
Como Ganar Musculo Para Hard Gainers Parte 1


Cada persona tiene un diferente tipo de cuerpo por naturaleza. Hay personas con el metabolismo alto, otras que acumulan mucha grasa porque no queman tantas calorías, personas con huesos grandes, pequeños, etc. En este caso, lo que voy a presentar es como ganar masa muscular para los hardgainers (las personas que son muy flacas por tener un metabolismo alto y quemar muchas calorías naturalmente sin necesidad de ejercicio). Por lo general estas personas tienen un bajo porcentaje de grasa, su cuerpo les pide alimentos que proporcionen energía y ellos mismos son energéticos. Si eres de estas personas, probablemente los músculos se te marcan muy rápido, pero no son grandes en tamaño y nunca has tenido problema con ser gordo. Pues yo soy una de estas personas. Y todas las cualidades que mencione arriba son ciertas en mi caso. Hace mas de 5 meses empeze un desafio conmigo mismo de ganar masa muscular. Hasta el momento, llevo 15 libras ganadas en músculo. De 135 libras a 150. Aquí les comparto lo que he aprendido que me ha ayudado a hacer lo que he logrado hasta el momento.


La primera cosa que tienes que hacer es identificar el tipo de cuerpo que tienes. Identificar que tipo de cuerpo tienes por naturaleza te ayudará a ver que pasos tienes que seguir para la meta que quieres y que plan hacer para llegar ahí. Si no tienes esta información desde un principio puede ser que el camino se te haga muchas veces más difícil y que no mires resultados. Lo que puedes hacer para identificar esto es usar el Phy Rate:




Esto te lo calculan muchas diferentes marcas de pesas. Yo, por ejemplo, estaba en 8 hace unos meses. De acuerdo a Tanita.com  la “clasificación física 8 es un cuerpo delgado y musculoso. Esto significa que tiene una cantidad baja de grasa corporal y un nivel estándar de masa muscular.” Sin embargo, esto fue después de hacer gimnasio y subir de peso durante varias semanas, así que probablemente empecé en 7. Ahora estoy en 5. La “clasificación física 5 es estándar. Un tipo de cuerpo estándar significa que tiene niveles promedio de grasa corporal y masa muscular. Las personas con un tipo de cuerpo estándar pueden progresar mucho cuando comienzan a hacer ejercicio.” Y dependiendo de donde te encuentres, el plan que es recomendado seguir.


Sin embargo, tienen que entender que la naturaleza de su cuerpo no define hasta dónde pueden llegar con él. Una persona con sobrepeso y una persona extremadamente flaca puede llegar a tener un buen fisico si le meten dedicación y las técnicas adecuadas. Así que, identificar el tipo de cuerpo que tiene cada uno es una forma de hacer el proceso más eficiente, no una forma de buscar excusas. Porque todos pueden llegar a donde quieren.

En conclusión, encuentra el tipo de cuerpo que tienes y en base a esto haz tu plan dietético y de ejercicio para llegar a tu meta. No te detengas con excusas de que no tienes un cuerpo naturalmente propicio a un buen físico porque todos los cuerpos pueden ser moldeados. Todos podemos llegar a nuestras metas.
Mateuš Conrad Dec 2017
can i interest you in a wee fact?
you know what psychiatry
deems the precursors of
major disorders?
  psychiatry being that branch
of medicine that is
not intelligent, merely ruthless
butchery of the brain,
that branch of the dying god,
clinging to the existence of a soul?
that branch of medicine,
like all branches of medicine
that somehow has a luxury
of the intellectual debates attached
to psychology?
        the logic of the soul's
existence when there is no, god...
how about, there's no clean
abode without a vacuum cleaner...
there's not ice cube without
a freezing process...
what's the point of discussing
a logic of a soul, in a godless society?
worth as much as astrology or
reading tarot cards...
but you know what the standard
of psychiatry is based upon?
only two traits:
a. does the patient bite his nails
and
            b. eye-contact...
that's it... the rest is left to
pharma...
psychiatrists are a numbing
perception of psychological
intellectualism...
      you really haven't listened
to a psychologist ramble until
you've met the brute psychiatrists...
comparatively speaking,
there is a tier hierarchy -
first comes the surgeon,
then comes the chemist,
  third comes the butcher,
fourth comes the psychiatrist...
then again there's an in-between
tier a 1b. with 1a. being
       a surgeon...
  i hate using this word in english
because it's so hollow,
pompous and *****...
  phi-lo-so-phy... how many e in
a y? two.
           how many breath-catcher
H in lo and so? one.
         can you even begin
to understand how psychiatry
has a standard of itemising a man
based on whether he bites
his nail or whether he can look
you in the eyes?!
           the **** is this!
             i remember this one
point where i was interviewed
by a psychiatrist and made her nervous!
why?
    psychiatrists fear a "patient"
expressing... em-pathy!
                        when a "patient"
expresses empathy they come
twitchy, nervous,
       solidifying a body language
of a statue: the **** do i do?
    ah, best thing, not to move.
i bite my nails because i like the taste
of the chemical that's keratin,
  which is like eating a carrot,
although subtler...
       my toes?
       couldn't find the nail clippers
anywhere,
but today i found the scissors
i use to clip them...
       yep, i bite 'em nails because
of the carrots, cut my toenails
with scissors,
  and have a beard because i was
tired of shaving
  (even though i miss it) -
and when i was young i heard
that phrase: oh, you'll hate shaving,
it will be a chore...
   not from where i'm coming
from, since that's a complete lie...
grow a beard for a year
and you'll find yourself missing
the blade...
               you really, really, will.
god, so much fun writing out
concentrating to do so out of your
own ***, than having the
anaemic boor & boredom "grasp"
of "knowing" the heart's
content...
               more like contempt...
      and in close proximity of the sound
uttered...
        language really is
inexhaustible when unsaid -
               so for the eloquent man,
a sophist, to speak to a blank piece of
paper? he'll find himself,
slightly, muddled...
               which can only mean that
my silence, makes me a grammatical
structuralist...
        and when a tpyo is committed -
i turn into a "neurotic" perfectionist...
       or in beliebtkultur a grammar ****...
wow... suddenly the origins of
****** are bound to grammar,
and not the treaty of Versailles... wow!
would it be **** of me,
  as a theoretical employer,
to dress accordingly to permit me to
employ you, working in my office?
  the **** is grammar ****,
  a comeback ushered in by ****** mongrels?!
Zee Oct 2020
These places
Lose faces
And shut down the blinds

These places
Lose faces
And lock and the doors

These floors
Abhor
Any trace of what could have been

These floors
Abhor
Any trace of what might have been

Shut down, find no trace of them.

(**** them) (**** them) (**** them)
Relax
The ending comes slowly

Relax
Don't forget to breathe

Their hands
All on me
Emptying my everything

I am becoming you
My first
The prettiest little corpse

Don't forget to breathe
wait WHAT came first//
\See me. bE mE/

a s
      phy
              xiat
                      ing

She holds
Inside
All your little lies
She holds
Inside
All the sins of mankind
Filthy womb
Inside my mind
Filthy tomb
I can't find
Filthy
My way
Filthy
Out of
Filthy
This place
Help
Suffer
Me
Help
Suffer
Me

The page
Grows longer
Every day
The page
Grows longer
In every way

Don't look
They can't see
Don't look
Or you'll find, see
See?
Seee?
Seeeeeeeeeeeeee?e
e?
eeeeeee?

He comes
Inside of me
He comes
The night filled with ecstasy
Then comes
the death of
M
e

Ripping limbs
All of them
Tearing away


Rend
Love
Tearing a hole
Right through

You don't need to know
None of us needs to know
We're held there with our eyes pried open and forced to watch as the end is televised
                                    and
                                            we beg for more
                                                                           like oil thirsty ******
     we
           alll
                  want
                             blood
                                        we
                                              all
                                                   slow
                                                            down
                                                                       to watch
                                                                                       the
                                                                                                 p
                                                                                                 r
                                                                                                 e
                                                                                                 e
                                                                                                 t
                                                                                                 y
                                                         car
                                                          w
                                                           r
                                                           e
                                                           c
                                                           k

— The End —