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serch elen Mar 2013
Have you ever didn't remember Win 7 administration password? If so, then it's very annoying and irritating. This is often a avoidable problem a lot of the customers find. However, don't worry you will find plenty of solutions with this particular. A lot of the customers, who didn't remember their password either, choose formatting their hard disk or operating their system, but it's not needed in lots of of cases to do something.

Well, you might find the password hint in your mind. Whenever you produced it you had been motivated to record an argument for example "Password=my birthday!" Whenever you now enter the wrong password at logon time then your phrase "Password= my birthday" can look immediately underneath the password prompt. Unless of course you're as old like me, this can help remind you the correct password is "your birthday".

You might attempt to totally reset password from command prompt:
Command Prompt: The command internet user *** abc w ill set the password for user *** to abc. You are able to only put it on a free account apart from your personal for those who have admin rights.
Also, you might attempt to stick to the below steps to totally reset windows 7 password:
Step One. Turn on laptop and set the windows Compact disc within the Compact disc ROM.
Step Two. Your screen will highlight the content for startup the Compact disc. Now, press any crucial for start startup.
Step Three. When the process will end up, your screen can have the setup all of which indicate the strategy is being looked over and files are loaded.
Step Four. After you are can comprehend the message about welcoming within the fix screen then press ENTER key to begin.
Step Five. Now press F8 for accepting the license contracts.
Step Six. Now your screen create provides you with several choices, choose repair option.
Step 7. When the repair will begin, it will require a very long time because disk has been underneath the technique of checking, set up files are replicated.
Step 8. Restarting is essential in case your technique of copying files is finished. It'll start itself as well as have the ability to the progress bar on screen. It should take nearly only a couple of seconds.
Step 9. Please be aware that don't make mistake of pressing any type in between restarting process as well the Compact disc again. When restarting will most likely be achieved, screen will instantly show the conventional billboard screen and you'll watch that setting up home windows will be outlined.
Step 10. Press Change F9 after you will notice the unit progress bar for that extreme left side from the screen. ALAS! This is actually the security hole. Now, command console will probably be opened up for you and could provides you with the chance to achieve much of your entire body.
Step 11. Type NUSRMGR.CPL inside the prompt then you'll wish to press ENTER. Immediately, after entering you're getting access of user accounts in the control sections.
Step 12. Now, simply choose the account you will need to modify the password or get rid of the password whoever you hire to consider is way better for you. If you want to take away the password then enter control userpassword2 and select the chance for logging into sites without password. Now, close the home windows and exit out of your command box and keep using your projects of repairing.
Step 13. Whenever your repair is finished, you'll be able to login pc together with your new password or without password, pick one you've preferred.

After reading through the above mentioned lengthy instructions regarding how to admin password, would you understand? Or are you able to do Windows 7 reset password with no problem? If no, It is best to make reference to professional windows Password Recovery Tool!
Source from:http://www.passwordunlocker.com/knowledge/reset-windows-7-password.html
Robin Carretti Apr 2018
But as sad as it seems

the imposter

Came closer
"Winnie' Con Pooh"
Arrh
Grrh
path
Huh?

Dark
Goth
Earth
Eeeeh
Ever Imagine?

Both  R$Worth

Crooked teeth
To be born
(Singers)
That way
"Lady "GaGa"
Don't go near my
"Mama"_

All people, the stranger

fire up ranger


Conned to be dated

Wrong types
Websites
The bite
"Boston creme pie"

"Boston Cafe Strangler"
All over skype lies

All Don Juans
Fake Hollywood tans

Bad Moon impersonators

when its all said and

done

"We wanted every lie"

No way out 6 feet under

My little big lie slice of

Apple computer
Viruses stay memories
deleted


2 B myself? stolen gadgets
all over my shelf
Money trick hats of
rabbits

My house was empty


New Renovation
Devil Nation
Demolition

Some
R&R
Robin-Risque

My Coffee Imposter
Stealing my good beans


My cup

Naked Gun=Fun


Godfather of the mob
Loan shark
NY Central Park

*     *     *     *    *    

His imposter suit dark
crooked lines 2-B Pressed
Don't start me up
I am not
impressed

Recharge my
I- Am
Linked into the
 Imposter
phone

Why did they pick me
24/7 like a clone

Carnal $ Cuddly

Smart *** got nailed
Long French tipped
knowledgeable

and stealing
Wifes other dreams
remarkable it seems

The ***** laundering no

'Holy Water'

Eyes of the crime

Estee
Lauder*
The makeup case
mob of utilities
Being an Imposter
Such clever abilities

Dealing with morons
City cat felines
no catnip just
Scientology all
  %%%
brainwashing_


Reindeer ****** nose
Big tip Ghostbuster lose


Comic-con of
Roosters & Hustlers
bars filled
with bust her ******

Why are they so good

at what they do


That summer solstice


Throwing wedding rice
It's better when
U-R
fed up twice

My Bentley bruiser
French tickler

The computer browser,


Being adventurist

"Zen"

"Avatar"
Not human lover

Being fooled by the
right star


Was so foreign
"American Uptown Girl"
playing
Cons in her own
"Billy Joel World"
the piano stranger
Start him up Pluto

All heirs no fears

Startup! Uppishness

Her money so played up

The *** drive he rose up
Oh! Gosh!!

So *******

Upmanship_
why did the man
         Go
"DownDamn-no-tip
_
?


And the woman

she vanished

His upper pants

to her underpants



Give up_ Startup


Watching his upper lip

Meeting her lower lip

More deceiving

All con artist doers
Those eyes of snakes
Like a shoe shiner
Demon

Jupiter Mars and
fake stars
Imposter and his dog
trained him well
Just like that to roll the
money over

What a bad start
upbringing

Such laryngitis copycat

imposter singer dead ringer

The good thing she was left

with her wedding finger$$$$$$
Imposters or crooks having loads of fun don't get taken in the
shade and sun you do have  a chance perhaps it's better to run
Andy Chunn Nov 2022
“She toddled in the mighty Duck
And almost never was”
Whether by design or luck
Or maybe just because

Summertime in Tennessee
So scorching hot and dry
The family thought a swim could be
Relief so we would try

While swimming came so easy
For most of us that day
But Mom was water queasy
So on the bank she lay

My friend and I, we swam like fish
In the deep Duck River
A day that would make you wish
This fun could last forever

My baby sister was so small
She could barely walk
She toddled and then down would fall
And jabbered with her talk

So Dad had moved into the deep
That’s when I saw it well
My sister ran without a peep
Into the Duck she fell

Momma screamed and I just froze
And out of sight she went
The muddy Duck would now propose
Another life be spent

My Dad had sprung to action
On hearing of the scream
He dived as a reaction
Into the muddy stream
.
.
.
And many years would pass us by
She studied hard and long
Nothing was too tough to try
She never got it wrong

A Ph.D and drug design
She makes the pills you need
If you were really in a bind
And needed meds indeed

She plays piano and reads the books
And knows so much inside
She sews and cleans and then she cooks
With logic as her guide

Accomplishments on every level
Complete and tried and true
But humble, never would she revel
In all that she could do
.
.
.

He came back up and looked around
His eyes began to beg
He dived again and there he found
And grabbed her by the leg

Upside down he pulled her up
And water did pour out
And soon we heard her cry startup
Relief without a doubt
.
.
.

Remembering that day and so
A blessing to repay
That was sixty years ago
But feels like yesterday

I sometimes think of all the luck
That happened just because
“She toddled in the mighty Duck
And almost never was”
Mateuš Conrad Dec 2016
i know of Knausgård -  sure, and i share this concerns for
the art of taking to lumber and chopping,
  as novelists tend to do, write with an axe,
philosophise with a hammer...
          metaphor turned into imagery
counter-turned into literalism...
   i once imagined him not being there -
i once wrote ich kampf, stressing
that it was an indefinite expression
of expression, primarily due to the content
of the pronoun... and i was referring also
to the definite expression (much obliged,
atheism, a- without, and the- with,
or indefinite and definite articulation) -
the English eye sees one stance as definite,
and another as indefinite, and juxtaposes
the two interacting...
                          they duly interchange...
i can say ich kampf and say i internalise
verbs: a movement of the hand,
   a strutting or a waltzing circumstance
of owning a body... that's what it's indefinite...
that's why Sartre slithered in counter to
his expanse in philosophy: because i really loved
his novels...
                          but in terms of a mein or
a mit (including me) struggle i find not
ease... no one dares to devalue ****** as a human,
not talking about the past history in purely human
terms urges the postscript of a dictator,
it actually elevates him to a godly status...
           not realising the human is to make flaws
of what the en masse does: raises him to a godly status...
     Zeus had a beard... not a Charlie Chaplin moustache...
right now he's laughing in his grave...
                      old Aldous ******...
   and aren't dictators born because people find their
surnames a little bit funny? it starts so
innocently...          and then it morphs...
   and it becomes an unstoppable morphing...
    yes... i know of a certain number of fellow
      contemporaries... because i want to? no,
because i have to. like rewatching the 2015 film
android - some films you have to rewatch...
   what's being debated? autism and artificial intelligence...
   hyperactive autism, i grant you that...
        it dawned on me... at autistic person could
fake a normal human response treating it as
      artificial... artificial also means mimicked -
  it means that "smart" guy at a bar reciting poetry
he hasn't written... artificial intelligence or the study of it
or even creating it has nothing original about it...
it's not groundbreaking in the same sense that
discovering champagne or penicillin is...
or l.s.d., because these examples have the magic of
being discovered by chance... humanity has been
artificially simulating intelligence since time
immemorial... it's that natural consequence of not being
endowed with a peacock's array of feathers
   to create a soothing, and sickly gentle wind of a woman
resting in a hammock under the shade of a palm tree...
artificial intelligence was inherent in us...
       it's the unravelling of the historical noumenon of man,
the per se that has only crept up on us,
   and before the reality of such a foundation being
established... the humanities create the "prophetic"
citations of it being true: in the "near" / impeding future.
    if god is a noumenon, then man cannot be a
phenomenon... but he is and paradoxically the two
of mutually compatible on a basis of exclusive rather than
an inclusive naturalisation...
               we are talking nature:
  we are talking god naturalised by the medium
suggesting: for i am bound to create obstacles and test
the body, rather than the mind of man...
    as so is man, also naturalised by the medium
of the elements, saying: for i am bound by a body,
   and have to utilise the body first, to overcome the wind
and the snow and the furthermore, until i reach
the labyrinth of the mind...
  and man has done just that, he has bypassed the struggles
of the body, and created entertainment using
the body that once struggled against the elements...
   for he has created the god Minotaur: and the psychic
labyrinthe... as with the Titans whom the gods
usurped, so too comes the twilight of the gods...
but being usurped by demigods...
       Minotaur was a demigod... who usurped the gods
of the trinity that were Zeus, Poseidon and Hades...
        for only the Greeks could create a Judaic bewilderment
as to why a sign was given unto an infant...
           but that's getting technical...
the film, android (2015)? it supports the misconception,
the anguish of a highly functioning autism...
      whereby showing a woman's carelessness in the realm
of adaptability with what some would claim to be
the beginning point of: overcoming the elements...
sure the odd tsunami and earthquake...
   but there's also the tiger, and winter, and parasite,
   and diseases of so many variations...
              man has not been endowed with complete
control over his surrounding... but in becoming partially
overlord of the ones tamed, he has created a mental
labyrinth... a world of such complexity that will
inevitably produce instances of autistic genius...
                 artificial intelligence is already imbedded in us,
just as cloning and Islam has already existed
(Christianity is too schismatic to be considered a cloning
definition... and Judaism as a monotheistic principle
has a heresy embedded in its orthodoxy that it simply
ignores: reincarnation... the Malachi heresy...
  that a second Elijah comes... and god becomes a half)...
   we see artificial intelligence everywhere...
        if the myth goes that woman fed man the original
lie of Eden... then man has nothing else to do than
attempt to polymer that one single lie...
       and repeat it... a reverse intrusion to what "could"
have been an utopian splendour.
      we all see artificial intelligence rummaging about
in the choices people make... it's called lying
   to gain access to a ****** gratification...
  or as i like to call it: a way to compensate our falling short
of the norm, a norm that focuses upon creating
   the most complex startup a Silicon Valley genius
can't comprehend... a family.
    these times prescribe such a bewilderment...
              families are artefacts of what some believe
precipitated into barbarity so close to us: the 20th century...
        and all those arguments you hear that might
discourage the opposite ***, as in damning your parents
for a piece of seashore **** fest of the *****?
   probably came from a person born from a surrogate
mother... well... an incubator, a very expensive *****...
   homsexuality created the evolution of prostitution,
once bound to the genitals... now bound to the womb...
     i.v.f. kids calling natural kids ******...
   i never liked the matrix movies in all honest...
but we're seeing the reversal of the original idea...
                 in the matrix of knowledge... hearts become
piñata: chockies sweet, sensations abundant,
  the spectrum is yours.
                but this poem isn't really about that...
i can sip a whiskey and actually find these things when
i start to utilise these symbols... it sometimes happens
that they fall through... all i was really thinking about
is the "theoretical" score of 147...
                      i'll call them billiards rather than *****
to excuse a "he-he" Michael Jackson laugh at a chance
of "nuance"...
       yellow (2), green (3), brown (4), blue (5), pink (6), black (7)...
and plenty of red (1)... points in bracket respectively...
                  of course from childhood memory i sided with
ronnie... also from Romford... an obscure town in Essex
that oversees the shard and canary wharf from
a distance...                    but watching snooker as a child...
          not too bad at pub-snooker: i.e. pool...
and that game show when snooker was hot back in
the 1990s... big break, with jim davidson as host...
    and of course: john virgo as the rejuvenated
                         ghost of alex higgins... this whiskey
swiggly is on me al.
                 but this final... ****! at one point it was
a century after a century...
                     chess with mathematics, trigonometry
and Pythagoras in motion...
                                    the gods playing with saturn
and jupiter neptune planetary arrangements...
            i can't word it properly... but it'll definitely sound
better than a concussion after too much rugby and
the rough-stuff of "manhood" strutting with bulging
muscle tensions... rather than this Japanese warrior-monk
in a waistcoat and bow-tie swirling a stick in the air...
           i just thought of one thing...
15 wildebeests on an African savannah...
       out comes one lioness...
    and she nibbles at the pack... and she picks off
the weakest of the 15 wildebeests...
              she nibbles the pack before the pack breaks away...
         she looks left (red) and then looks right (yellow,
green, brown, blue, pink, black) -
                      and she picks at the pack, one by one
they fall... but there are two games going on...
   there's the no-man's land snooker where the game is
about entrenchment, and snookering the opponent
for a foul... and then there's the tsunami snooker...
which kinda looks like one person playing chess...
     with no opponent other than a chance mistake...
misjudgement on the case of instinct and how they ******
well know what angle to fudge the white lioness
                onto the billards... and with what force...
      tsunami snooker, or cascade snooker is basically
a monologue...
                             after seeing 3 centuries in a row
you get to crave classical snook -
                                       the mind games of safety shots...
   and teasing, and tempting, and teasing, and tempting,
before the Rubic cube unravels itself,
   and you find that light at the end of the tunnel...
                        and the black pops into...
i'll be honest, i haven't watched snooker for a long time...
        maybe that's why i feel so enthusiastic about it...
       it's sometimes good to be fed this mundane diet
of sport-fanaticism that football is in accordance with
religious dogma... it's a good thing...
             then you end up watching a game of snooker
and all these things start firing up your brain...
   and you end up saying:
      the Taj Mahal can be there for all i care...
the Grand Canyon can be there for all i care...
                    such things don't really require a photograph
with my gimp-face trying to make other people jealous
by actually being there: only to take a photograph,
rather than feed into the air and the thrill of being there...
        as they say... it's a small world after all...
better get used to it being much bigger inside your head.
Wordforged Fool Mar 2016
Conflicted, conflicted
My mind so encrypted
There is no escape, my memories inflicted
Pouring through thoughts as my emotions drifted
Searching for absolution, through sands of sorrow I've sifted

Conflicted, conflicted
My spirit isn't lifted
Entombed from mistakes wondering what I did
Errors and consequences and a farewell I do bid

Conflicted, conflicted
Thoughts and emotions contradicted
Standing here hollowed, my heart evicted
Still is the world, not much to be gifted

Error, error
Fear and terror
Time to shut down or be lost all over
Again and again with my soul torn asunder

Error, error
Shut down or be caught by despair
To late, it's here, it caught me unaware
The damage is absolute with no way to repair

Error, error
It will never be better
Not a shred of care
Caught in Medusa's stare

Begin rebooting sequence
Letting shutdown commence
Countdown has begun
Five, four, three, two, one

Nothing but darkness
Soul as a black screen filled with emptiness
Clearing all of my thoughts, my whole head
If I didn't reboot, I'd be as good as dead

Startup commence
Beginning with mental defense
Fortification complete
Open emotional files, hit delete

Blank canvas and nothing more
An empty shell of what I was before
It will happen again and again
It will stop, but nobody knows when

I am a blank slate but in the depths of my mind
Are the thoughts and feelings I wish I could leave behind
Ashwin Kumar Feb 2023
You are used to being overloaded with work
That's what happens when you work in a startup
Especially a startup dealing in Recruitment
That too, not run-of-the-mill Recruitment
You specialise in niche roles
Thus, you need to invest a lot of time and effort
In order to pull off closures
Yes, a recruiter's life is never going to be easy
But Recruitment pales in comparison to Research
When you are working on a major research project
You are essentially taking part in an almost never-ending race
Against that elusive devil, Time
A race you can ill afford to lose
And the race track is far from straight
In fact, it is full of twists and turns
Some of them are even more dangerous
Than those hairpin bends you often encounter
While driving up the mountains
There are also numerous obstacles along the way
And to cap it all
There are no prizes for winning the race
On the other hand, if you lose
There will be a stiff penalty
In the form of losing the client, for ever
And what's worse
Is the fact that your credibility will take a massive beating
From which it will be quite difficult to recover
Life will never be the same again
So, you have to win, no matter what
Of course, you are used to working hard
Whether it be Recruitment or Research
So, you put your best foot forward
And work out of your skins
Putting off sleep as much as possible
Even when your body is protesting vociferously
Against this blatant abuse
To add insult to the injury
Your laptop shows you the *******
And your phone literally dies
Sending you into a brainfade
That would have put even Australian cricketer Steve Smith to shame
Luckily, your father's presence of mind saves the day
But your troubles are not over yet
The harder you work
The more confusing the project gets
It's like being trapped in a maze
Except that it's a thousand times worse
Because the maze is controlled from outside
As if it were a puppet
With your boss pulling the strings
Thus, the harder you try to find a way out
The more you get trapped inside
With every passing hour
Hope slowly drains out of you
Until you are forced to admit
That all you can do, is pray
And keep praying for all eternity
Hoping against hope
That Harry Potter and his friends will save the day
Poem I decided to write during one of the most critical stages of a major research project.
Kyle Dal Santo Apr 2021
startup…
logon… password “Hello Friend”
K: Windows/system32> whoami
Description= reminder to update system
Exec start= bash(repeatedly) sleep-10; notify send “This Is Gonna Hurt”
K: Memories/ cd
Couldn’t load library “K: Memories/Hopeful/GoodTimes/v1997/launcher”
no such file or library
Invoked from within
Library path could not be found while executing
newtype.sendkeys {DELETE}
integrity check has failed
package requires ansinfo
(package ifneeded script)
def listen= {dummy}
ip configrelease
User interface "you’re
notlosingyour_mind!” not found
NOT ENOUGH PARAMETERS OR PARAMETER ERROR!
User daemon reload - update script
Are you sure you want to delete? Y/N
National Poetry Month Day 4
Jack Torrance Nov 2019
This anxiety,
is making me anxious.
Feeding itself,
until it becomes dangerous.

It’s PTSD,
of some varying degree.
Each startup and failure,
taking its toll on me.

The inability to remember,
the pain and the fear.
Forgetting the scars,
that should be so clear.

The voice in your head,
reassuring you.
Saying this time will be different,
when you know it’s not true.

Louder and louder,
till it starts to scream.
Your anxiety grows,
and splits at the seam.

Then you give in,
letting go at last.
The voice takes control,
and repeats the past.

Another, another!!
It screams in a growl.
More, more!!
A predator on the prowl.

Then it is gone,
and you’re just floating there.
Trying to make sense of things,
trying to be aware.

Then it all crashes down,
and you’re drowning in hate.
You’re full of self loathing,
and memories that exacerbate.

Now the long road ahead,
seems to have no end.
Your chest hurts so bad,
and the tremors set in.

You can’t eat or sleep,
so you traumatize your brain.
You’re scared you might die,
but you’re more scared of the pain.

Four days and you’re better,
but the memories end.
Then that tiny voice,
starts to whisper again.

Over and over,
rinse and repeat.
Slowly killing yourself,
for a small fix of heat.
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2016
the maxim? well, if you don't like my game, i'll just take my bucket and spades and go to another sandpit to play my game... oh don't worry, you're famous and necessary and acknowledged and c.c.t.v shy. known by the tax office and the home office... sure, you're famous there, and necessary there... with me? something grey, something resembling a square... i'm not even going to **** and **** on you to get to fame, too much dignifying things came my way to wonder about that; i'd love your job as a bus-driver though, i'd love any job to be honest, but every single job just reminds me of school, and none are on offer to remind me of university - better faux pas and loose it all, than gain something belittling and a statistician's daydream of getting to be aged 80: as was the day than the concern for being mortal, was acknowledged by seeing fame revealed that those administering mortality were interpreted as apathetic wrongly: no: got nothing to lose.*

it sometimes happens, you walk into the toilet,
lift the toilet seat up, and just sit on it...
you're simulating the idea that you'll never **** or
take a **** in heaven, a moth flies in, a cat sniffs your head,
the people on television look oh so nice and pampered,
but there you are, sitting on a toilet with no **** to **** out...
so the admiring you comes out... this is the room where
a tapeworm (had i one) wrote my biography? well, it
must be! the common concern for relief on the toilet is
like the unlikely catacombs relief of "great" men...
me on Napoleon's throne, Napoleon of my toilet...
the same **** came out... some alcoholic looked into a mirror
while lifting a glass: bad results,
a few days of nightmare ensued (he never expected
the image to say: i need company) - drink and talk
is fatal - but of all the addictions, alcohol feeds you
enough calories to become super active.                
as i once said: the toilet seat the only throne there is...
you imagine ******* out a million dead, when,
actually, the supposedly million dead
are stuck to the television... but still there you are,
sitting on the toilet, downing a whiskey,
admiring the surroundings: why, a mighty reinterpretation
of the Niagara Falls... as some hate the Marquis,
i read a de Sade book on the tube and find
a bunch of girls giggling...
     encore! papa don't preach! papa don't
     preach!
                       so you're just sitting in
the toilet, there's a horde of dead people
titled: your ****...
                                and oh god it looks oh so
******* pretty!
                               you can just shove a hectare
of daffodils into the image, and drink enough
for your liver to feel the rib-cage and make you
gambling nonetheless: well, either that
or the brain is gone.
   and there were times when we enjoyed pain,
   and there were times when we celebrated it...
   a rare fetish, it was once the rave's dynamo startup!
marvellous, the Prince of Wales just walked
past, and people started shouting: shoot the
quasi Henry! shoot the quasi Henry the eighth dead!
n'ah, that never took off...
                                             appear and be believed,
           disappear and be relieved.
Ken Pepiton Mar 2021
}} who would lust to list to a guy named Waldo? I asked…
This guy I know, Al, he says it contains references to mort-ifying experiences, AND those could boost our points made, so AI suggests I read: Ralph Waldo Emerson, from 2021-
If I know your sect, I anticipate your argument.
A man must consider what a blindman's-buff …
{*******, looks it up, it's like Marco Polo in a public pool}
he goes on
what a blindman's-buff is this game of conformity.
{ he assumes his audience is a we, We all play, back in his day, this game was considered religion, and
religion was some form
of Christianity, the rest were heathen,
in that game,
conformed religion was the only winning
peace time occupation,
which Blake bitten poets might imagine fitting into,
who knew?
at that time, now
the game is set, default mode
on cult startup,
first hook is, God called you because
you are like us a loser without hope, without help,
Tetzl, build me a tourist attraction,
make the Germans pay,
then
have all the ******* artists paint its walls
to prove each believes
the story the edifice shall tell.
{listen, she whispers, hear her first entreaty only once}
Now breathing is like expanding the game:
inspirational sci-psy-psi, know as we say we know,
we are those who know,  ecce ****,
-------- those evil inquisitors, were me -
-------no - I was Jaques De Molay,
sure, ri-ight,
and I'm Oscar Schindler, when he saves Anne Frank.
HEY
WE CAME TO EXPOSE A SHADOW...
so the seeds we sow
grow where hearing ears
cross reading eyes and all
the best ideas come in double

space-ing to allow for lines that wrap at the frame, fully phreakin' justified, on any screen with leading letting space be normal, thus limiting out of bounds imaginary
reasons
why lines come in expensive short lengths,
||
last issue of The New York Times composed using hot metal (2 July 1978) was titled
Farewell, Etaoin Shrdlu

|| the hot metal was lead. Like bullets, but letters.

In this medium, messages know
there are no valid reasons
for long justified lines and
space is not only there there
between lines that start at 10, to leave fixit room,
an ancient way of making room for right in wrong code.
Add a lin -oops line
Etaoin and Shrdlu and lorem ipsum, too
RW-if old waldo had been enabled,
as I am,
with mortally infinite paper
and ink visible to any eye,
Now Waldo, tell Seri to spread the word, y'back..
.
he may then
have written in my short line attention span,
concept upon concept
except ...
reception
falters…
WE LOST THE HOOK>
NOBODY KNOWS WHERE WALDO FITS THE PICTURE

Here's Waldo: 2021, with no ******* comments…
---------------------------
The objection to conforming
to usages that have become dead
to you
is,
that it scatters your force.
It loses your time and blurs the impression
of your character.
If you maintain a dead church,
contribute to a dead Bible-society,
vote with a great party
either for the government or against it,
spread your table like base housekeepers,
— under all these screens I have difficulty
to detect the precise man you are.
And, of course,
so much force is withdrawn
from your proper life.
But do your work,
and I shall know you.
Do your work,
and you shall reinforce yourself.
A man must consider
what a blindman's-buff is this game
of conformity.
If I know your sect,
I anticipate your argument.
I hear a preacher announce
for his text and topic the expediency
of one of the institutions of his church.
Do I not know beforehand that
not possibly
can he say
a new and spontaneous word?
Do I not know that,
with all this ostentation
of examining the grounds of the institution,
he will do no such thing?
Do I not know that he is pledged
to himself not
to look but
at one side,
— the permitted side,
not as a man, but as a parish minister?
He is a retained attorney,
and these airs of the bench
are the emptiest affectation.
Well,
most men have bound their eyes with one
or another handkerchief,
and attached themselves
to some one
of these communities
of opinion.
This conformity makes them not false
in a few particulars,
authors of a few lies,
but false in all particulars.
Their every truth is not quite true.
Their two is not the real two,
their four not the real four;
so that every word they say chagrins us,
and we know not where
to begin to set them right.
Meantime nature is not slow
to equip us in the prison-uniform
of the party
to which we adhere.
We come
to wear one cut
of face and figure,
and acquire
by degrees
the gentlest asinine expression. {;}

There is a mortifying experience in particular,
which does not fail
to wreak itself also
in the general history;
I mean
"the foolish face of praise,"
the forced smile which we put on
in company
where we do not feel
at ease
in answer
to conversation which does not interest us.
The muscles,
not spontaneously moved,
but moved
by a low usurping wilfulness,
grow tight
about the outline
of the face
with the most disagreeable sensation.
>
I find I digest short lines better, and waldo doesn't mind being paid a bit of attention, he had some ideas that breathe easier in this century,
Meh Aug 2018
So… you have a dream, a passion, a burning feeling that if only you can get that job, or become famous, or get rich, or be a doctor, or make that startup, or write that book… then you will have it all, you will be complete, or at the very least… it will make you happy.

So you work, you work hard because you know that the key to success is determination… there are some days that you want to give up, but that is to be expected, after all, nothing worth doing is easy, right? It does not matter how difficult it is… because you know it’s not about now, it’s about later… it’s about how great you’ll feel once you finally accomplish that dream of yours.

And before long, you’ve become bitter… you are so focused on moving forward, so locked in this tunnel vision, not being able to look behind you... all that’s real to you is to keep going ahead, ahead, ahead… and this place? the now? it’s just a stop along the way, and so are all those pesky long years that came before it… clearly, this is all leading up to some grand final, your dream… the thing that will validate all the long days spent working towards whatever it is you want, something that will validate you, or so you keep telling yourself.

And one day, perhaps you give up… or perhaps, you find that you’ve arrived, you are finally here, you’ve achieved whatever it is you wanted… you celebrate, you feel amazing for a day, maybe for a week, maybe you are still content after a month or two… until… ever so slightly, so slightly you barely even notice… it all becomes boring to you, and now, you reflect, and you take in the meaninglessness of your achievement.

And then, one day… you get a dream, a burning sensation you cannot describe that if you can get that job, or become famous, or get rich, or be a doctor, or make that startup, or write that book… then you will have it all, you will be complete, or at the very least… it will make you happy.
Ashwin Kumar Aug 2022
Returning to work
After a rather enjoyable weekend
Is hardly something to rejoice about
Especially when you are handling Recruitment
And particularly when you work in a startup
A startup that supposedly gives you freedom
Freedom for the employer, that is
To keep nagging his employees
From time to time
But not freedom for the employees
To work as per their convenience
You feel like a balloon
Pressed on all sides
By the boss, candidates and clients
One false step
And Boom! you are back to square one
And left with a mountain to climb
At the speed of light
You know, though, what's the worst part?
It's the uncertainty
Whether it be in finding relevant resumes
Or speaking to a bunch of candidates
And trying to convince them
Or, if you do somehow manage to convince someone
Waiting for him/her to share the CV
Is like watching that infamous innings of Sunil Gavaskar
In the 1975 World Cup
It kills you from inside
Such that, you just can't wait
For a miracle to happen
Which involves the client
Uttering the magic words
"This position is temporarily on hold"
Self-explanatory
Krishna Paras Jul 2017
Hey sadness,
When will you let me move on?
Always by my side
I let my happiness slide.

Autumn leaves
I never seen one before
The withering leaves
Just fall,fall.

I want to feel fire
Overwhelm inside my body
Burn it up, turn it up
Give me a new startup.

A new start
Even if I want, I cannot
But forever we are young
To my dreams and hopes, keep hanging in.
mixed thoughts while raining yesterday
Eriko Aug 2015
Maybe a relative startup
a sequential ***** up
two pointed fingers to the head
the deviation which brinks into
fast-fall, go-for-the-hell-of-it
momentum, an all consuming
build up, edging to the cliff
fall to the expanse of water
plummet with head tilted first
Swimming through days
spinning to endure the suffocation
how one can never save oneself,
how the world's axis must sway opposite
in my head of direction, because
if it did, I would never have to feel like this
Maybe that's why the arrays of the sunshine
passes through me and not over me,
not to blessed by the reminiscent of halo glimmer
keep a still smile, wake to the smell of black coffee
how I am amazed how I haven't burst,
how emotions elapse and thoughts beat
against the side of my brain
and to keep a still smile
sometimes what will I give
for a still mind
and this very thought
scares me
Robin Carretti Jun 2018
The treasure chest
Her ((Piece De Resistance))
French skills of perseverance
She was a hollow crown of jewels
Not the zircon bright yellow
The darker to see you my dear
near my pillow

That death by chocolate how
she craved those sweets
Graveyard shift current events

Those men dark Batman suits
water skiing and internet surfing
That bat eye batmobile showdown
missile

Cells and locks to open the
gate and keys
A hell  of a wish never on
Sunday to ring her bell the Siren
She made their hair home
Sunday  dark gravy

Lips were too thin and skully
Was a cycle her lowdown
Shot glass don't touch my Philly
So gravely razor suit and a shave
Her mouth Tornado
But the vivacious Viking

  Crypt look hellhole
The gathering dead again
Santa dead pole
couldn't stop bickering
No-one cared to notice her
dreadlocks
"The Cryptocurrency"
what urgency
She was drawn into the
Arsenic and Lace
Viva Las Vegas roll the dice
Cryptic engraved cellar
Like the maestro was playing
his serenade
She-devil Pillar
catching her death of cold
Feeling high winding staircase
Wearing her gown ripped lowdown
Being blown off the town lace
Oh! Fiddlestick with the
***** of light
Breaking free from husbands sight
The rise of the current storms
heads up she drinks Grand
dead Marnier
Took over such a restraint
This wasn't black and gray
spray paint

What a fiercest most recent
ancient  current events
Reptilian and it was the
family of witches and covens
Words engraved so cryptically
She was wearing her
snakeskin bag signature

The body of dead sea such rapture
The fire feet stepping over seashells
Takes the hell out of Sahara snakes
  She got a backdraft
Black widow of waistlines
13 inches Spyder Graphics
Those shifters and heretics

He was the Rocky face
The shorelines those laugh-lines
Sad clown dark eyes scratched
The cat feline

Her addiction was the guylines
Crypt crooked cop fines
Another startup kit
The dark edgy women her
legs just fit
Dark and edgy things crypt with coffins dying current waves are the
only thing living. This is like the Arsenic and Lace but those old ladies had a change of face
Ashwin Kumar Dec 2022
Recruitment is an utterly thankless job
Especially if you are handling an Investment Banking role
That too when working in a startup
You spend hours and hours
Searching frantically for candidates
Who possess the requisite skills and experience
Followed by days and days
Speaking to a plethora of candidates
Facing rejection after rejection
Watching your own confidence nosedive
After almost every conversation
And then gritting your teeth and continuing to burn the midnight oil
After you finally manage to share a few relevant resumes
By the skin of your teeth
You breathe a sigh of relief
Knowing that your job is half done
Everything runs smoothly from thereon
Till the offer stage
When the candidate decides to back out
Having received a better offer elsewhere
And you are back to square one
However, you resume the search
With a renewed vigour
And put your heart and soul
Into finding a suitable replacement
Your efforts are duly rewarded
However, misfortune strikes again
The candidate develops cold feet
And gets retained by his present company
You have to go back to the drawing board, yet again
However, you refuse to give up
And work harder than ever
Determined to be third time lucky
Alas! Fate turns its back on you, yet again
The client proves to be a tad too miserly
Thus pushing your candidate away
However, you continue to resist bravely
Against all odds
Determined to prove a point
More to yourself, than anyone else
However, history repeats itself
For the fourth time in a row
And you are left bruised and battered
In the face of a year full of bad luck
Which has brought you a record seven backouts
And all you can do now
Is to pray, and keep praying
For 2022 to end as soon as possible
Recruitment, is indeed an utterly thankless job
Self-explanatory!!
Mystic Ink Plus Apr 2020
Your startup
For this life
Is not to
Oblige over
Illusions
Phantom hopes
Connecting the dots
Redefine the patterns
Drain the energy
And unveil
All the unsolved mysteries
Since ancient time

Your purpose
Is to share the flame
Your own reality
That hold within
Being aware
Not to be right
Every time
For
Authentic happiness
Fulfillment
Harmony and dignity
Living life, simple
Being eternal light
In your own way
Genre: Inspirational
Theme:  Rational Living
Ashwin Kumar Jun 2022
Two days of hard toil
Searching through portal after portal
Company after company
And speaking to candidate after candidate
And what I am left with
Is nothing
Absolutely nothing to show for my efforts
One candidate doesn't find the role exciting enough
Another candidate loses interest
After hearing the name of the client
The next one is not looking for a job in the first place
For the one that comes after
Relocation turns out to be a deal breaker
And the rest of them are simply too busy
Too busy to even pick up the **** phone
However, I decide to keep at it
Only for the rejections to continue
One guy eventually shows a bit of interest
But he has too many questions
Questions that neither I can answer
Nor can my boss!
Of course, Recruitment is never an easy job
Especially when you are working in a startup
But to succeed in Recruitment for Investment Banking roles
You really need to pull off a Harry Houdini!!
Semihten5 Dec 2017
for stillbirths
what is time
infinity and startup
life and death

unresolved node
Jay Jul 2019
Droppin' on in,
It's been a minute since we've talked,
Your hair has grown,
Your face has faded,
It used to be brighter
If memory serves.
Have you been well?
New job? New love?
Only if you don't mind.
Have you heard that new song?
Have you seen that movie?
How's that startup idea gone?
Where has all the time gone?
We should talk again sometime.
Or not,
Whichever you prefer.
hello frens
SURETICE TONGUE Jun 2018
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Approaching subjects to mindset…’ Commonwealth among many of undertaking  sacral privileges, possible to cover every technique and popular tendency to typing ‘anatomy of human psyche like the acknowledgement, spirit rings manuscript, startup for certain specific advisory patterns, great deal to the early nature man’s improvement  view gainful occupation of answerable to the original mechanism helping creations own fieldwork Or through the marrying vision interests and knowledgeable acquaintance, dressers cord of imaginary adolescence indices historical supervision of corporate  ‘body-bearer’ breadth inclusive, role of wife-mother places infinity, frontier individual bases continually occur, making generalizations vast of riding *****.

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Ashwin Kumar Nov 2022
These are tough times
As far as Recruitment is concerned
Of course, Recruitment is never easy
Especially when you work in a startup
But a year like 2022
With backout after backout
And consequently rework after rework
Really takes the biscuit
Here I am
Without a single closure
In the last ten frigging months
And thus having my confidence shredded to pieces
One would think
That I badly need a break
In order to recharge my batteries
You, on the other hand
Decided to add to the burden
By assigning me, not one
But three extra mandates
Mandates that are not only difficult
But also rather time-consuming
And require dealing with a client
That has tested our patience
On multiple occasions
And on top of that
I have to come to office as well
Of course, it is all smooth sailing
As far as the onward commute is concerned
Thanks to the ever reliable AC local
The return, however, is a different ballgame altogether
Because you always make me late
Thus, I never manage to catch the AC local
And by the time I reach home
I end up hating you to the core
You are lucky magic doesn't exist
Because if it did
You would have been dead a long time ago
I would have seen to that
Anyway, coming back to reality
I have always been tolerant
But, as my grandfather would say
There is a limit to everything
And if you are expecting me to work on Saturdays as well
You are exceeding that limit
And then I will have no choice
But to leave, once and for all
As I've already mentioned
I have always been tolerant
However, my tolerance now runs thin
A rant against my boss for loading me with a lot of extra work when I am already struggling and low on confidence due to a year full of backouts.
Amelia of Ames Jun 2018
I've wanted to write something for days now.
But what?
What's worth putting to pen?
What matters to me now and here?
What matters at all?

A paper that will never be published.
A song that will disappear into the abyss of music memory.
A website for a startup that could never take off?
Countless countless research papers to read for a research project that I'm not supposed to work on yet.

How should I be spending my free time?
Is there something inherently wrong in asking that?
But really, I need to know. Is it correct that I'm spending my vacation finishing projects?

Perform a song. Move on to practice a different song. What song? Except I need to practice something an hour a day.
Meet a friend for coffee. We go to a museum we've both been to too many times . Why are we here? Except that we want to be together.

What does it mean to want to spend the day with someone but have no idea what to do?
What does it mean to have so many long meaningful conversations that you can't remember the subject of?

Is it the people that matter?
The common agreement to keep a bond?

Is it the exploration of creativity that matters?
The continuous honing of skills into activities I enjoy and take pride in?

Am I perfecting my projects? Am I perfecting myself? Is that what is correct to do on vacation?

Perhaps this poem was just another item to check off an arbitrary to-do list.
I feel like I need a break because none of my projects give me that feeling of MATTERING anymore. But I don't know what to do with this break except work on projects.
Th Bird Mar 2019
Have you ever felt like you’re falling and can’t get up?
Like you just can’t do it anymore, you keep trying but you just won’t startup?
Has somebody ever hurt you without them knowing?
And with that hurt, you just can’t seem to keep going?
Sometimes everything falls apart.
Sometimes you just want to restart.
You give up and can’t seem to get rid of the pain.
The anger and sadness is just stuck in your brain.
You feel numb, stuck, alone.
You’re stuck in this cyclone of emotions and thoughts that won’t seem to disappear, maybe it’s because that’s all you’ve ever known.
Sometimes you just want to scream **** this, **** that, **** life.
But everybody always says “it’ll get better it always does” well, when the **** does it?
But you always keep pushing through, the small moments make the best of everything.
Let everything surface until the sting goes away.
Just wait, it’ll all be better some day.
I wrote this sitting in traffic on 495.
Rudder than trigger, provoke,
incite..., voodoo curse
necessitating emergency visit
courtesy doctor Demento or his nurse
methought best to craft (airily)
nonsense sickle verse
yikes! maybe iamb
steadily getting worse

as poetaster wannabe,
which prognosis bodes ill
and p'raps best **** sitter
underwater basket weaving
enlist as water boy re: bucket
brigade for Jack and Jill,
hence imagine yours truly
amazingly gracefully dipping quill

within inkwell exerting intense utmost
control to keep right ting hand still
to pen employment
query expressing thrill
and natural born talent
to hand dill
you can easily envision me
balancing bucket fill

water atop noggin donned gone down
appellation trail resembling fountainhead
strengthening neck muscles till
yours truly capable
to shoulder and shrug Atlas
alas especially beneficial
in case arsonist kindles conflagration
preparation guaranteed courtesy fire drill

dashing hither and yon, to and fro
even at expense resembling
beetle browed fool on the hill
nonetheless earning reputation
continually increasing numbers
balancing full buckets with nary a spill
leaping lemur far and wide
globetrotting yawping shrill

excitement acquiring nonpareil skill
experiencing pride without prejudice
(nodding to ghost of Jane Austen),
perhaps launching startup Lil
Buck Kit Waters - drumming up business,
expanding, hiring, kickstarting franchise

oh... wealth estimated at least trill
yon, helping non antagonizing peep hill
drafting, modifying, updating... living will
in case I kick bucket unexpectedly
distributing liquid assets as good will.

— The End —