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"simplify" poems
You've brought us closer, Then made us more distant. Made us more aware, Then made us doubtful of ourselves. Introduce us to more friends, Then invited more enemies. Given us more publicity, Then exploited us. Save us more time, Now it's spent to be more busy. Simplify our tasks just to make life more difficult. You're an entrapping blessing in disguise. Made us feel more secure, Yet gave us more tools to break in. You've become our new addiction, Just a second without you,  Got us in technology withdraw. You're a complication in simplicity. There's so much to love you but also so much to hate. Can't live with you or without you...
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Jul 17, 2013
Jul 17, 2013 at 8:17 AM UTC
Ode to Technology...
The poor keep moving as if relocation could reframe the algebra. They cannot see that repetition traces patterns in their life. New beginnings become as hopeless as stale finales of debt and desperation. Wishful thinking makes for certainties gambling against the odds of possibilities. Whispered prayers and incantations leaves no space for reason’s compass to steady and settle. If they stood still and mapped the moment both sides of the equation would simplify and they might construct a new geometry of anger. © M.L.Emmett
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Aug 9, 2014
Aug 9, 2014 at 10:09 AM UTC
The Mathematics of Poverty
Let me simplify What it is He felt it in your eyes He read it in your words He knew it when you smile He appreciates you so much He sensed the fragrance in air He started to trust your forever He noticed when you get blushed Remember How warmly He calls you, a rose It can be No other than THE LOVE
0
Sep 14, 2018
Sep 14, 2018 at 11:52 PM UTC
Naive
So many times I’ve tried my dear To simplify the way I feel, I wonder what word would mean, The whole of what I’m to reveal. I’ve tried physics & calculus, To calculate these heavy thoughts I’ve tried trigonometry as well as geometry But the unknown increase by three. So what I used is algebra, To solve for all formula, And by the aid of geometry, I got the answer; one(1) four(4) three(3)
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Aug 6, 2015
Aug 6, 2015 at 2:29 AM UTC
Math Is Love
To love. To be loved. To never forget your own insignificance. To never get used to the unspeakable violence and the ****** disparity of life around you. To seek joy in the saddest places. To pursue beauty to its lair. To never simplify what is complicated or complicate what is simple. To respect strength, never power. Above all, to watch. To try and understand. To never look away. And never, never to forget. - Arundhati Roy
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Feb 16, 2015
Feb 16, 2015 at 12:24 PM UTC
To love (R. Arundhati)
We can do mathematics. I'll simplify your reasons to kiss me, subtract doubt, add charm, multiply seduction, root hope and equate your ****** with mine.
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Jun 12, 2013
Jun 12, 2013 at 12:34 PM UTC
Sensual Geometry
How easy it is to complicate situations And how hard it is to simplify Amidst the complexities We lose the plot, easily Challenges were never easy
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Dec 26, 2014
Dec 26, 2014 at 7:33 AM UTC
Challenging
The complexity of coupling is an exponential increase. No matter how perturbed life may be, we strive to linearize it, thank you Laplace. You transform us. It is integral to simplify life. Like Da Vinci, Like Thoreau: “Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication” “Our life is frittered away by detail…simplify, simplify” Let us not differentiate between the good or the bad                          the high or the low. Life is too brief to quantify, qualify, and compare it to others. It is yours alone. Embrace the change over time.
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Feb 18, 2016
Feb 18, 2016 at 1:01 PM UTC
Mathematical Life
Pretty (adj): 1. pleasing or attractive to the eye, as by delicacy or gracefulness; "Pretty" is a word that's been spewed at you since the day you were born, A social standard set upon you that you had yet to even hear, but it was being used to describe you instantly; A "pretty little girl", a "pretty face", "pretty eyes", "pretty smile", "pretty outfit", Did anyone ever stop to wonder if you'd have a pretty soul? What about the way you could be brought to tears at the thought of shaming homeless people or victims of abuse, how your heart felt like it was ripping out of your chest when you heard about someone who was struggling, They didn't seem to care that you tested highest in compassion, they just wanted to know where you got your dress from. As you grew older the adjective turned from an innocent compliment to what seemed like a snide remark, The word "pretty" began to eat you from the inside out every time it was said like you should measure your worth in how delicate others find you; You stopped accepting "pretty" as a compliment when it turned into an adjective that was only associated with girls that were more than average but less than beautiful, You stopped accepting "pretty" as a compliment when it became an antonym of strong, like "pretty" girls were things that would break if you talked too loud, as if loving a "pretty" thing could never be synonymous with loving a durable or sturdy or resilient thing. D.A. Sharp once said "You weren't meant to be pretty; you were meant to burn down the earth and graffiti the sky. Don't let anyone ever simplify you to just "pretty"." And so when someone kindly placed the word in a sentence referring to you you learned to automatically put it into quotations because they were just trying to be nice, They didn't know they were reducing you to outer beauty, that "pretty" seemed less like a compliment the more it was said, like people couldn't figure out another way to describe you, As if God hadn't already intricately woven the threads of your DNA, as if he hadn't perfectly tinted every hair on your head to be its crisp burnt color or hand painted the irises of your eyes, No, "pretty" could no longer cut it. Because you had been made for bigger and better things, Those "pretty" eyes of yours will one day see things that God hadn't originally intended anyone to have to see, and those "pretty" hands of yours will have to pick up the pieces of a heartache that God had never wanted you to know and put them back together, and those "pretty" lips of yours are the same lips that will stand in front of sin and tell it that you have chosen Jesus. Because "pretty" is fine, but you have been fearfully and wonderfully made, a masterpiece of the Creator.
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Dec 10, 2014
Dec 10, 2014 at 7:26 PM UTC
Pretty
Pretty (adj): 1. pleasing or attractive to the eye, as by delicacy or gracefulness; "Pretty" is a word that's been spewed at you since the day you were born, A social standard set upon you that you had yet to even hear, but it was being used to describe you instantly; A "pretty little girl", a "pretty face", "pretty eyes", "pretty smile", "pretty outfit", Did anyone ever stop to wonder if you'd have a pretty soul? What about the way you could be brought to tears at the thought of shaming homeless people or victims of abuse, how your heart felt like it was ripping out of your chest when you heard about someone who was struggling, They didn't seem to care that you tested highest in compassion, they just wanted to know where you got your dress from. As you grew older the adjective turned from an innocent compliment to what seemed like a snide remark, The word "pretty" began to eat you from the inside out every time it was said like you should measure your worth in how delicate others find you; You stopped accepting "pretty" as a compliment when it turned into an adjective that was only associated with girls that were more than average but less than beautiful, You stopped accepting "pretty" as a compliment when it became an antonym of strong, like "pretty" girls were things that would break if you talked too loud, as if loving a "pretty" thing could never be synonymous with loving a durable or sturdy or resilient thing. D.A. Sharp once said "You weren't meant to be pretty; you were meant to burn down the earth and graffiti the sky. Don't let anyone ever simplify you to just "pretty"." And so when someone kindly placed the word in a sentence referring to you you learned to automatically put it into quotations because they were just trying to be nice, They didn't know they were reducing you to outer beauty, that "pretty" seemed less like a compliment the more it was said, like people couldn't figure out another way to describe you, As if God hadn't already intricately woven the threads of your DNA, as if he hadn't perfectly tinted every hair on your head to be its crisp burnt color or hand painted the irises of your eyes, No, "pretty" could no longer cut it. Because you had been made for bigger and better things, Those "pretty" eyes of yours will one day see things that God hadn't originally intended anyone to have to see, and those "pretty" hands of yours will have to pick up the pieces of a heartache that God had never wanted you to know and put them back together, and those "pretty" lips of yours are the same lips that will stand in front of sin and tell it that you have chosen Jesus. Because "pretty" is fine, but you have been fearfully and wonderfully made, a masterpiece of the Creator.
Continue reading...
24
I must be floating somewhere in the fourth dimension. I feel like I’m a formula in quantum mechanics: Complex and misunderstood… But if you know my concept well enough I can be broken down into numbers and logarithms That even a layman could understand With a basic knowledge of math and science Before he drops out of the university, Because who has the patience To simplify me? You're the scientist and mathematician Who disregarded imaginary numbers Due to theoretical imperfections Even if it was your thesis.
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Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 5:21 PM UTC
quantum theory
There is a state of existence,                                                  where a person is neither A nor B he's inbetween-- he's the addition, the subtraction, the shove and retraction,                                                  I've spent my life "+"ing and "-"ing building empires of handshakes, floating from bar to bar with drinking pals, crowbarring ice off queens of black venom,                                                  I'm the distortion in the middle, but I can't see the end-- I never promised answers, but the soft hands, the wet eye'd, and the widows cry out for closure,                                                  I get edgy and the "+"ing turns to "x"ing Instead of answers-- I take the As and Bs, I inhale their the white-knuckle moments, I simmer in their fading passion, I glide through their dying beds, Instead of clear answers--                                                 A x B x A x B x A x B x A x B = (unfamiliarperfume, missingherwedding, socialnetworkwindowshopping, backroom, thestoplight, theschoolzone, dirtylaundry, rejectedphonecalls, hisgirlfriend, herboyfriend, hisboyfriend, hergirlfriend, otherwives, otherhusbands, blackout, clenchedfist, animmatureandirresponsibleflirtationwithaddiction, howlingatthemoon, gettingoffonthepast, leaveherinthenursinghome, makingthewake, mowingthegrass, droppingthebouquet, tooold, tooyoung, toolate, toosoon, toosweet, toocruel, toofat, toothin, toonosy, toodistant, toobad) ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------                                                                       Best Laid Plans               And in the grey of early morning, they look at the equation, they look at the proposed solution, and inevitably the As and the Bs say to me, "Now, simplify it." I get edgy I get edgy I get edgy.
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May 12, 2012
May 12, 2012 at 3:19 AM UTC
+ and -
There is a state of existence,                                                  where a person is neither A nor B he's inbetween-- he's the addition, the subtraction, the shove and retraction,                                                  I've spent my life "+"ing and "-"ing building empires of handshakes, floating from bar to bar with drinking pals, crowbarring ice off queens of black venom,                                                  I'm the distortion in the middle, but I can't see the end-- I never promised answers, but the soft hands, the wet eye'd, and the widows cry out for closure,                                                  I get edgy and the "+"ing turns to "x"ing Instead of answers-- I take the As and Bs, I inhale their the white-knuckle moments, I simmer in their fading passion, I glide through their dying beds, Instead of clear answers--                                                 A x B x A x B x A x B x A x B = (unfamiliarperfume, missingherwedding, socialnetworkwindowshopping, backroom, thestoplight, theschoolzone, dirtylaundry, rejectedphonecalls, hisgirlfriend, herboyfriend, hisboyfriend, hergirlfriend, otherwives, otherhusbands, blackout, clenchedfist, animmatureandirresponsibleflirtationwithaddiction, howlingatthemoon, gettingoffonthepast, leaveherinthenursinghome, makingthewake, mowingthegrass, droppingthebouquet, tooold, tooyoung, toolate, toosoon, toosweet, toocruel, toofat, toothin, toonosy, toodistant, toobad) ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------                                                                       Best Laid Plans               And in the grey of early morning, they look at the equation, they look at the proposed solution, and inevitably the As and the Bs say to me, "Now, simplify it." I get edgy I get edgy I get edgy.
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33
Simplify your poetry. Make it fit for a pop song. Simplify your poetry, make it fit for me, your little *****
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Dec 27, 2011
Dec 27, 2011 at 1:50 PM UTC
Simplify Your Poetry
*To fully understand this is to bridge The hundred islands of Pangasinan, Or to darken the sands of Boracay. I say, let alone the confusion, The thrill, the beauty, And let us love terribly, fully, Crazy, and make sweet follies, In the simplest way We could ever know, Saying, Love does not ask, And does not answer. It only feels.* © 2015 J.S.P.
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Feb 22, 2015
Feb 22, 2015 at 11:17 AM UTC
Simplify
Who should desire A clear mirror Of perfect likeness Lies hideous fear Look, see what we see Sad doppelganger Ethereal clone Leaning, wall hanger All flaws magnified Every evil, too Simplify ev’ry line Ever mistake – rue A mirror well smudged Truly desired The traits that are so Nobly admired
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Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 1:30 PM UTC
Clear Mirror
I'm coated in wax Your flame laced words too close. You melt my outer shell Revealing the cracks in my intricate mask. Panic seeps through The promise of exposure bittersweet. I embrace Change my colour and form to simplify. But you stop No longer curious for the truths hidden inside. Brushed aside Just a pretence of care you need for my sympathy vote. Once again Half exposed, only to the harshness of reality. The fires out I owe you nothing.
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Oct 15, 2012
Oct 15, 2012 at 6:47 PM UTC
Candle.
You've hurt me beyond belief and it is beyond all comprehension why you have done this. What perverse pleasure do you get from making me feel this way? I want to exact my revenge on you tenfold ... Simplify You've hurt me so badly and I don't understand why. Do you enjoy making me feel like this? I want to take my revenge tenfold ... Simplify You've hurt me a lot but why? Do you enjoy it? I want to get back at you tenfold ... Simplify You hurt me. Why? Enjoy it? I will get back at you tenfold ... Simplify I'm hurt. You did it. Liked it? My turn tenfold ... Simplify I hurt. Now you tenfold ... Simplify ...
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May 17, 2013
May 17, 2013 at 7:55 PM UTC
Simplify
I thought about this long and hard In fact I thought about it all the time What would happen to belly button lint If you set the stuff on fire I collected more than enough Over the years to see this through So I went and invited a few friends along The word it spread and the crowd it grew All the folk from the town came out They'd been collecting belly button lint just like I had Not quite as impressive a pile as mine I guess I'm the biggest belly button lint dust collecting man That's (B.B.B.L.D.C.M.) if you want to simplify who it is I am You might think that's something to be proud of And believe me when I say that I am After I got through signing autographs We proceeded with my grand plan The crowd stepped up one by one To toss their lint onto the pile Coming close to blocking out the moon As the pile grew ever higher (Finally the time had come to light up the famed belly button lint dust fire) It was Frankie who spoke up first And said he'd be honored to flick his bic That was the very last time we saw any of him Frankie and the lint lit up like a rocket ship When the shock wore off I turned around And saw the whole town up in flames I've had a lot of great ideas before I'm not quite sure this was one of them I now live in a hippie commune in the woods Since my towns no longer there It's kind of lonely without Frankie around Although there's still that lingering hint of burning hair I no longer collect belly button lint these days I sure learned my lesson with that Haven't worked out the details of my next grand idea But I can tell you it involves a big ball of my ear wax
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Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 8:06 AM UTC
The Great Belly Button Lint Dust Fire Of 93'
I thought about this long and hard In fact I thought about it all the time What would happen to belly button lint If you set the stuff on fire I collected more than enough Over the years to see this through So I went and invited a few friends along The word it spread and the crowd it grew All the folk from the town came out They'd been collecting belly button lint just like I had Not quite as impressive a pile as mine I guess I'm the biggest belly button lint dust collecting man That's (B.B.B.L.D.C.M.) if you want to simplify who it is I am You might think that's something to be proud of And believe me when I say that I am After I got through signing autographs We proceeded with my grand plan The crowd stepped up one by one To toss their lint onto the pile Coming close to blocking out the moon As the pile grew ever higher (Finally the time had come to light up the famed belly button lint dust fire) It was Frankie who spoke up first And said he'd be honored to flick his bic That was the very last time we saw any of him Frankie and the lint lit up like a rocket ship When the shock wore off I turned around And saw the whole town up in flames I've had a lot of great ideas before I'm not quite sure this was one of them I now live in a hippie commune in the woods Since my towns no longer there It's kind of lonely without Frankie around Although there's still that lingering hint of burning hair I no longer collect belly button lint these days I sure learned my lesson with that Haven't worked out the details of my next grand idea But I can tell you it involves a big ball of my ear wax
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39
Nothing is absolute And there are countless variables thrown into the mix Do your best to simplify Search for those high exponents to bring your base to a better place No need for negativity Times can get adverse and even inverse But you must remain in power as an integer There is no substitute for you Distribute some of your positiveness To all groupings of coefficients And their properties You have yet to reach your prime, but you will
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Jan 13, 2015
Jan 13, 2015 at 12:16 PM UTC
I'm Bad At Math
Oh, I got that feeling again. I’ve been staring at the ceiling again. Letting my heart take flight, as the music reaches its height, taking my thoughts out of minds’ sight. But this feeling I now fight, cannot be controlled. Cannot be moved, overcome, or even forced to fold. Gripping my ever-changing soul and forcing my hands. As my breath leaves my body and my feet forget to stand. Hands pushed to speak through the letters they find. Putting feelings to words that cant seem to speak my mind. Frustrated by my inaction, that passively takes form. In the words I now force to unwilling conform. To these one-inch margins that box in my thoughts, constricting my deepest feelings and simplify life’s plot. All perpetuated by the rhythm, of the ever-spinning fan. Mounted just above my bed, that seems to hypnotize what’s in my head. Threading image to feeling, and my feelings to my words. As the tapestry of us, now resembles fleeing birds. Each winged reminisce that has forever taken flight, a moment in time that will always hold spite. Towards cliffs edge that stands between what the heart seeks. And a mans inability to step beyond its daunting peak. So with time ticking down and our future running by, I stand at a distance and continue our little lie. One living in the shadows of nights eternally pasted on, when passions ignited without though of our coming dawn. Only of the connection made with courage in hand, liquefied to motivate beyond what history had banned. What allies once forbid and witnesses cheered on, inhibition finding wind and politics forgone. Now forced to be nothing more then memories in the sand, as our hourglass approaches empty and my thoughts continue to be fanned. Continue to find rhythm as the blades spin madly by, ticking down to a day when I cannot take the lie. Cannot take this falsehood that pushes me from behind, as I approach that daunting edge of my own terrified mind. So with time in short supply along with my pride, I put black to white and our segregation aside. In the hopes that time stands still for just a moment more, to help you understand that it is you I adore.
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Apr 18, 2013
Apr 18, 2013 at 12:59 AM UTC
Revolving Certainty (April 17th, 2013)
Oh, I got that feeling again. I’ve been staring at the ceiling again. Letting my heart take flight, as the music reaches its height, taking my thoughts out of minds’ sight. But this feeling I now fight, cannot be controlled. Cannot be moved, overcome, or even forced to fold. Gripping my ever-changing soul and forcing my hands. As my breath leaves my body and my feet forget to stand. Hands pushed to speak through the letters they find. Putting feelings to words that cant seem to speak my mind. Frustrated by my inaction, that passively takes form. In the words I now force to unwilling conform. To these one-inch margins that box in my thoughts, constricting my deepest feelings and simplify life’s plot. All perpetuated by the rhythm, of the ever-spinning fan. Mounted just above my bed, that seems to hypnotize what’s in my head. Threading image to feeling, and my feelings to my words. As the tapestry of us, now resembles fleeing birds. Each winged reminisce that has forever taken flight, a moment in time that will always hold spite. Towards cliffs edge that stands between what the heart seeks. And a mans inability to step beyond its daunting peak. So with time ticking down and our future running by, I stand at a distance and continue our little lie. One living in the shadows of nights eternally pasted on, when passions ignited without though of our coming dawn. Only of the connection made with courage in hand, liquefied to motivate beyond what history had banned. What allies once forbid and witnesses cheered on, inhibition finding wind and politics forgone. Now forced to be nothing more then memories in the sand, as our hourglass approaches empty and my thoughts continue to be fanned. Continue to find rhythm as the blades spin madly by, ticking down to a day when I cannot take the lie. Cannot take this falsehood that pushes me from behind, as I approach that daunting edge of my own terrified mind. So with time in short supply along with my pride, I put black to white and our segregation aside. In the hopes that time stands still for just a moment more, to help you understand that it is you I adore.
Continue reading...
1
well i'm not good at math, so i guess i'm not smart and i don't care about you, so i don't have a heart your perception is off, but what else would you expect from a person who tries to simplify all that is complex like race and gender, it's not like you think, it's not set in stone and the stereotypes that you speak chill me to the bone "not be racist but" is not a way to start a sentence there's no "buts" in racism, could you show some repentance? well, not to be racist, but white people are ***** and not to be sexist, but all men are ****** and i'm getting tired of all of your ignorance how does it feel to be full of intolerance? you see the world through one narrow view has anyone told you that you haven't got a clue? you can't put people in boxes, we are so much more we're filled with infinities that simply won't fit in a drawer each mind is a galaxy, well, i guess maybe not yours and you're so afraid of what you don't know so get out of this world, i think it's time you go because no one likes racists, ********** or jerks being a ******** won't get you any perks it's about the heart, not about the face we're all a part of one single human race.
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Nov 10, 2013
Nov 10, 2013 at 11:24 PM UTC
perception
As potential grew, a desire to write, disclosed to few Imagination immerse, but yet to thirst for knowledge, accrued ambition address All aboard the express, thoughts of Harry, a plot to marry From fanciful flights to greater heights Capturing such visualisation, twas the formation Characterisation, of wings to soar, with metaphor From Dumbledore, yet taking shape Professor Snape, assume the plot, lest thoughts forgot A forest to roam, a philosophical stone Such creative flair of which to share Joining of the dotted line, artistic mind Transporting train, journeyed acclaim Of whom to impede, the will to succeed The ability to write, the capacity to teach, the desire to reach An impetus for change, a literary role, a priority Of which to seek with tenacity Beyond horizons, beyond confines, stand undefined Awe-inspire, great readership, a due reply To simplify, a noble shift, outstanding writer in the midst Dynamic plot from pen to page, persistence through to published stage A realised dream, challenge overcome A victory won definably, stocked supplies to library Broomstick flight phenomenon, a mystical tale was to become Would generate, the bus of Knight, to render right A rebuilt life, a legacy made From chosen craft to final draft, a world of creativity The right to type, to innovate, an intriguing wait A shining star that would liberate Written by Geraldine Taylor ©
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Jun 11, 2017
Jun 11, 2017 at 3:10 PM UTC
J. K. Rowling
The french Figured Out a way to Simplify the cooking Experience Sheer brilliance I say, Sheer brilliance But I wonder why the Bologna doesn't Fry until the Bubble Forms when my grandma used to cook it?
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Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 10:58 PM UTC
ode to french toast
I tried to simplify all the complicated feelings I have. Some times you irritate me, so I leave, but then miss you. Some times I dont like it when you touch me, but then I want to be all over you. Alot of the time that im smiling, I want to strangle you but then you make me laugh. I'm actually not really sure if I even like you that much, although I think I might just be in love with you... It's all rather confusing.
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Jul 22, 2010
Jul 22, 2010 at 7:00 AM UTC
Endearing Inadequacy
Hide me from myself in the endless forests. Cleanse my mind in the gentle ocean. Blow away my hesitation in the canyon's wind. Grow my life's satisfaction in the bright green valley. Make me whole in the unmarred fields. Release these cold thoughts in the woeful glaciers. Vent my uncertainties in the ominous swamps. Idealize my peace in the waterfalls. Present to me solitude in the tundra. Simplify my existence in the plains. Show me contemplation in the caves. Show me truth in the sky.
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Aug 14, 2014
Aug 14, 2014 at 4:59 AM UTC
Where To Captain?