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"unsocial" poems
Masticated Ectoplasm to Lance Corporal Tom Masticated Ectoplasm to Lance Corporal Tom Bumming your fat knobs and insert your helmet naked and unashamed Masticated Ectoplasm to Lance Corporal Tom Kicking off kick-off, cyborgs brought face to face Tartan sunstroke and may Mumbo Jumbo's **** all lie among you Nine, eleven, seven, thirteen, six, quinquereme, ******** ********* Tweedledum and Tweedledee, unsocial person, erectoffensive! This is Masticated Ectoplasm to Lance Corporal Tom You've really ****** the naval officer And the hatchet faces want to know whose blouses you abuse Now it's time to evacuate the ******* if you have a free hand This is Lance Corporal Tom to Masticated Ectoplasm I'm fancy dress dancing through the cat—flap And I'm groping inside a swollen grotesque sailor And the plums look gigantically unusual nowadays Ergo from Land's End to John o' Groats am I piddling in a crumpet slammer Telescopic hindward the lump Uranus Arsenic is scatological And there's sweet **** all I can have ****** *********** with With the proviso that I'm Ichabod celibate centipede sextillion heads I'm fondling vigorously paparazzo And I think my sputnik knows which direction to **** Tell my ballbreaker I ****** her vigorously for England, she bonks Masticated Ectoplasm to Lance Corporal Tom Your menstrual cycle's kaput, there's oojakapivvygizmo spleen Can you smell me, Lance Corporal Tom? Can you get to the bottom of me, Lance Corporal Tom? Can you delve into me, Lance Corporal Tom? Can you... From Land's End to John o' Groats am I vibrating ring my crumpet criminal lunatic asylum Telescopic hindward the groupie Uranus Arsenic is scatological And there's sweet **** all I can have ****** *********** with
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Mar 27, 2010
Mar 27, 2010 at 4:22 PM UTC
******* Type Transvestite
Masticated Ectoplasm to Lance Corporal Tom Masticated Ectoplasm to Lance Corporal Tom Bumming your fat knobs and insert your helmet naked and unashamed Masticated Ectoplasm to Lance Corporal Tom Kicking off kick-off, cyborgs brought face to face Tartan sunstroke and may Mumbo Jumbo's **** all lie among you Nine, eleven, seven, thirteen, six, quinquereme, ******** ********* Tweedledum and Tweedledee, unsocial person, erectoffensive! This is Masticated Ectoplasm to Lance Corporal Tom You've really ****** the naval officer And the hatchet faces want to know whose blouses you abuse Now it's time to evacuate the ******* if you have a free hand This is Lance Corporal Tom to Masticated Ectoplasm I'm fancy dress dancing through the cat—flap And I'm groping inside a swollen grotesque sailor And the plums look gigantically unusual nowadays Ergo from Land's End to John o' Groats am I piddling in a crumpet slammer Telescopic hindward the lump Uranus Arsenic is scatological And there's sweet **** all I can have ****** *********** with With the proviso that I'm Ichabod celibate centipede sextillion heads I'm fondling vigorously paparazzo And I think my sputnik knows which direction to **** Tell my ballbreaker I ****** her vigorously for England, she bonks Masticated Ectoplasm to Lance Corporal Tom Your menstrual cycle's kaput, there's oojakapivvygizmo spleen Can you smell me, Lance Corporal Tom? Can you get to the bottom of me, Lance Corporal Tom? Can you delve into me, Lance Corporal Tom? Can you... From Land's End to John o' Groats am I vibrating ring my crumpet criminal lunatic asylum Telescopic hindward the groupie Uranus Arsenic is scatological And there's sweet **** all I can have ****** *********** with
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33
That day i finished A small piece For an obscure magazine I popped it in the box And such a starry elation Came over me That I got whistled at in the street For the first time in a long time. I was ***** and roughly dressed And had circles under my eyes And far far from flirtation But so full of completion Of a deed duly done An act of consummation That the freedom and force it engendered Shone and spun Out of my old raincoat. It must have looked like love Or a fabulous free holiday To the young men sauntering Down Berwick Street. I still think this is most mysterious For while I was writing it It was gritty it felt like self-abuse Constipation, desperately unsocial. But done done done Everything in the world Flowed back Like a huge bonus.
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2.9k
A Bonus
On my journey through the Unsocial Anarchy, I could see the crooked dream. The tranquility I felt was infinite. But though crooked, it was impervious.
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Jan 23, 2017
Jan 23, 2017 at 1:47 PM UTC
Unsocial Anarchy
I don't know how to tell you friend don't feel like sayin' much at all these days my words seem make-pretend perhaps my pride before the fall It's not unusual for me to write a song without regard for all the souls in misery to play the sap, or happy card but now I know just how it feels wet sand is cold like soft concrete and I can sit and dig my heels 'til burying my loathsome feet and standing now without a keel high tide they say, is coming in I dig to break the salty seal to free my legs to walk again.... unsocial social butterfly finds a sunlit place to rest the lightest breeze will pass her by and stir again the vacant nest she's seen a fairly ugly past hung in, the pillar of her peers and now the warming rays alas will dry her bitter butter tears and staring now, just down below the spider's web has never freed but pitched a battle, awesome show which spoke again to butter's need The words we tend to weave within dark thoughts can surely build a wall to block the sun and thickly spin our pride, so fierce before the fall... and caterpiller's stiff cocoon gave place for wings like silk adorned with patterns, colored matching moons in darkened place her future formed I speak in words, which make it real the stuff,  it all comes pouring out a substance formed and packed with zeal for all the things I talk about but some not nice have taken flight and reaching, caught within your net like thunder in your morning; light I spoke too soon and now regret sometimes I tend to overthink and miss the point, that awesome prize I sleep, awaken,  eat and drink yet somehow came to realize That YOU, my very precious one sweet salty butterfly of grace a brand new life has finally come and gee, I LOVE that butter face! It's not unusual for me to write a song without regard for all the souls in misery to play the sap, or happy card but more unusual to write a poems which ends without a word the butterfly in silent flight the sweetest thing I've ever heard.... :)
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Aug 24, 2014
Aug 24, 2014 at 9:30 AM UTC
butterface
I don't know how to tell you friend don't feel like sayin' much at all these days my words seem make-pretend perhaps my pride before the fall It's not unusual for me to write a song without regard for all the souls in misery to play the sap, or happy card but now I know just how it feels wet sand is cold like soft concrete and I can sit and dig my heels 'til burying my loathsome feet and standing now without a keel high tide they say, is coming in I dig to break the salty seal to free my legs to walk again.... unsocial social butterfly finds a sunlit place to rest the lightest breeze will pass her by and stir again the vacant nest she's seen a fairly ugly past hung in, the pillar of her peers and now the warming rays alas will dry her bitter butter tears and staring now, just down below the spider's web has never freed but pitched a battle, awesome show which spoke again to butter's need The words we tend to weave within dark thoughts can surely build a wall to block the sun and thickly spin our pride, so fierce before the fall... and caterpiller's stiff cocoon gave place for wings like silk adorned with patterns, colored matching moons in darkened place her future formed I speak in words, which make it real the stuff,  it all comes pouring out a substance formed and packed with zeal for all the things I talk about but some not nice have taken flight and reaching, caught within your net like thunder in your morning; light I spoke too soon and now regret sometimes I tend to overthink and miss the point, that awesome prize I sleep, awaken,  eat and drink yet somehow came to realize That YOU, my very precious one sweet salty butterfly of grace a brand new life has finally come and gee, I LOVE that butter face! It's not unusual for me to write a song without regard for all the souls in misery to play the sap, or happy card but more unusual to write a poems which ends without a word the butterfly in silent flight the sweetest thing I've ever heard.... :)
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60
You moved in, family friends with mine Siblings friends with yours Yet you’re still unknown I watched you, trying to understand you Never really talking to you Just observing, still learning Interacting around you Seeing how you act Different environments Different people Quiet, not shy Funny, but reserved Unsocial, but not mean Watching you from across the room Waiting for you to notice me Watching you when you finally do Teasing you but not really flirting Unspoken discussions Eyes meeting and agreeing When our friends say absurd things Sitting right by each other Still not really talking Knowing you, who you are But you’re still unknown
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Apr 6, 2016
Apr 6, 2016 at 2:09 PM UTC
You're Unknown
It’s as if I’m stuck inside a shell I can’t see out of. I’ve never been able to even try to tear my way out because that is too much. I dream of all these things inside, But on the outside I can’t get there. I know it’ll always be hard work and I’ll just have to try, But I can’t force myself to be confident and have nothing at all to say. I can imagine as many situations as I like, Plan out some different possible future jobs. Only I’ll never be able to get there, Because I **** at social skills. Right now I’m trying to figure out what to do, Right now I can’t find any solution. I’ll get there because I have to, However I really don’t know how to escape from this zone of comfort. It’s something that I don’t seem capable to fight.
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Jun 6, 2015
Jun 6, 2015 at 12:27 PM UTC
The Unsocial Shell
He keep his mouth shut. You think he is unsocial or just a loner. He looks boring, but he sees and hears everything. Maybe he don't speak, but that doesn't mean he dont sees and hear. He see more deeply than others. How the object is in colours, what sound it makes, what vibrations and feeling it gives out. While all you see is a "thing". He sit all by himself, and write what he observe. No one walks over to say "hi", nobody notice if he is sick. He is just "there". One day a guy steals his notebook. And he reads from it out loud infront of the whole class. The quiet guy seem calm, he sits quiet as usual. In the notebook, it's the reason to be. It's the anwer of our existence, it is all the colours and music in descriptions. It is so beautiful that the whole class get touched. The next day, the quiet guy isn't their. He is in their hearts.
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Oct 18, 2015
Oct 18, 2015 at 4:23 PM UTC
Busy mind, quiet mouth
I yearn to exist in a space where the stars all but blaze Where stars aren't celebrities Where they bask in the night sky unpolluted And just exist I crave truly being in an environment that does not depend upon phone screens Where my peers and myself do not walk through life in an addicted daze Unaware of the haze that descends as an effect of such technological dependence We are walking around with our eyes unconsciously searching for the stimulus that society constantly feeds us These electronic signals flashing upon thin panels of glass And This is what we call Living The dopamine flooding our brain when that text vibration brings our popularity to attention Capturing our attention holding it captive We are prisoners of our own purchases Rusting our humanity away enchained In a web of unsocial media and notifications We never have any silence When was the last time you just sat silent doing nothing When was the last time you allowed your mind even a sliver of space to just exist
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Jan 7, 2017
Jan 7, 2017 at 11:18 AM UTC
Existence
Brain was a happy place where all the memories lived together. There were occasions of mistrust but it seemed like a good place to live. Like every society, there were some unsocial elements in Brain too. But the good memories could keep them in control easily. But something changed in Brain. Negative thoughts came in large numbers. They were heavily armed and were well trained for combat. The good memories, the core defence of Brain, were helpless. They lacked the necessary skills and the “good will” wasn’t enough. All the memories were terrified. To make matters worse, the bad memories colluded with the negative thoughts. They leaked vital intel about the defence. Once the good memories surrendered, all hell broke in Brain. The negative thoughts became unstoppable. They tortured the memories to death. In this time of terror, the memories needed a leader. Someone, they could look up to. Hope came to their rescue.
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Mar 10, 2016
Mar 10, 2016 at 7:04 AM UTC
Hope, the Saviour
I have no room for new scars. My heart is more glued seams than pieces of Hope and muscle. My smile is as pale as the back of a Dalí painting; all canvas and Dirt. I have opened my arms for a hug and Stood accused of impersonating Christ. Meditation rendered me unsocial. As misunderstood as Latin, yet I yell at the walls of common reality with The dead language of my innersoul, Cursing and blaspheming for the attention Of deities. Some may listen; not one needs To reply. All I want is to break down the wall Between myself and any creator Listening, And say Thank You. The Love Of my Life is My life. What I love the most about my Life is   It.
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Oct 9, 2015
Oct 9, 2015 at 12:54 PM UTC
The Dead Language of my Innersoul
Raymond was strapped in grade four. Reportedly told a kid to **** off. True heresay. This happened a while ago. He could'a been stood against the board, With his nose in a circle for thirty minutes. (Lines were always a waste of everyone's time) Could'a stood him at the back for the morning, Or out in the hall, or suspended, Later expelled. He could'a been fired and unemployed, ****** off and unsocial, And, again, later, crooked. True heresy. Then we tell him to **** off, Which we should've done first, And left it at that.
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Dec 29, 2016
Dec 29, 2016 at 9:44 PM UTC
Corporeal Raymond
I seldom need people and being they are seldom around it sort of balances itself out . Friendships are like flowers they take to much care to keep them alive. As for me. I'm a cactus a total ***** .
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Nov 7, 2017
Nov 7, 2017 at 6:46 PM UTC
Unsocial
Kyle, you are the unsocial demerit point, because you tame that which isn't within the same parameters as your own guilt of never being able to essentially see past your own guilt, firstly. (Which is entirely filled too the absolute brimful of shame!) Shame that doesn't detest your own abstract mind from taming the logic that truly demands the official reasoning for you too cost more energy for yourself too bear (in order to suit your own needs from depleting even quicker. Then what was first realized.) While being at the demanding odds of something either unfortunate to ALWAYS come your way. Or (for the very first time in my very own simulation full of nothing more than completely realistic prolonged "shackled" days) that doesn't EVER seem to count the reasoning you need the very most. Mostly because life is truly never fair when it ONLY operates anyways, (for your very self first and foremost). On an operating system full of very tempting, unusual, unnatural and a seemingly unrealistic taste for more demerit points to be added in a complete collection full of both "wonder and detachment." Kyle, you’re also the unsocial demerit point, because you have yet to discover your own highs and lows upon your own governing system. It's not bad to be one's own demerit point. (Hell, I've been my own "demerit point" ever since the very beginning when I truly first popped out into this world full of "realistic advantages.)" Realistic advantages full to the absolute brimful of "factually chained uncertainties!" Your nothing more than a sense in your own details that doesn't limit one's own ideology against the world head-on! Instead, you devise a proper program for yourself against the desires of an even more proper exercise in order to free yourself full of the (not so rich) details that blind your own choices, from seeing the choice in it's own decision-making...from ever being able to reach the extension of your own actions. Actions that suddenly prompt its own inadvertent consequences, because the notion is in the very specifics that again demand you too see the odds that try to impress you (without even seeing "why that is)?" Concluding what exactly...? Well, isn't it already obvious enough for you too "effectively" notice (ahead of time)?! Or are you too busy thinking on raising the bar of the current potential rate of your still rising (to this very day)...demerit points? Because that's what you should always be focusing on "separating" from your very structure of life, altogether. Versus the still ever-increasing rate of such a demerit succession!
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Sep 7, 2020
Sep 7, 2020 at 9:45 PM UTC
Kyle, the unsocial demerit point.
Kyle, you are the unsocial demerit point, because you tame that which isn't within the same parameters as your own guilt of never being able to essentially see past your own guilt, firstly. (Which is entirely filled too the absolute brimful of shame!) Shame that doesn't detest your own abstract mind from taming the logic that truly demands the official reasoning for you too cost more energy for yourself too bear (in order to suit your own needs from depleting even quicker. Then what was first realized.) While being at the demanding odds of something either unfortunate to ALWAYS come your way. Or (for the very first time in my very own simulation full of nothing more than completely realistic prolonged "shackled" days) that doesn't EVER seem to count the reasoning you need the very most. Mostly because life is truly never fair when it ONLY operates anyways, (for your very self first and foremost). On an operating system full of very tempting, unusual, unnatural and a seemingly unrealistic taste for more demerit points to be added in a complete collection full of both "wonder and detachment." Kyle, you’re also the unsocial demerit point, because you have yet to discover your own highs and lows upon your own governing system. It's not bad to be one's own demerit point. (Hell, I've been my own "demerit point" ever since the very beginning when I truly first popped out into this world full of "realistic advantages.)" Realistic advantages full to the absolute brimful of "factually chained uncertainties!" Your nothing more than a sense in your own details that doesn't limit one's own ideology against the world head-on! Instead, you devise a proper program for yourself against the desires of an even more proper exercise in order to free yourself full of the (not so rich) details that blind your own choices, from seeing the choice in it's own decision-making...from ever being able to reach the extension of your own actions. Actions that suddenly prompt its own inadvertent consequences, because the notion is in the very specifics that again demand you too see the odds that try to impress you (without even seeing "why that is)?" Concluding what exactly...? Well, isn't it already obvious enough for you too "effectively" notice (ahead of time)?! Or are you too busy thinking on raising the bar of the current potential rate of your still rising (to this very day)...demerit points? Because that's what you should always be focusing on "separating" from your very structure of life, altogether. Versus the still ever-increasing rate of such a demerit succession!
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2
I yearn to exist in a space where the stars all but blaze Where “stars” aren’t celebrities their plaster faces plastered on magazine covers lining the shopping aisles But where they bask in the night sky unpolluted And exist radiantly Where the culture ceases to revolve around the newest latest fashion or video And instead revolves around the ripening of figs And the blooming of chrysanthemums And the migrations of the swallows Where we look like awestruck children to those unpolluted stars above us and this great earth around us to tell the time and pass the seasons, Living then in harmony with the revolution of the very soil and air from which our life flows It’s easy to forget I crave an environment that does not depend upon phone screens Where my peers and myself do not walk through life in an addicted daze Unaware of the haze that descends as an effect of such technological dependence We are walking around with our eyes unconsciously searching for the stimulus that society constantly feeds us We are tripping over ourselves just trying to keep up These electronic signals flashing upon thin panels of glass And This is what we call Living The dopamine flooding our brains when that text vibration brings our popularity to attention Capturing our attention holding it captive We are prisoners of our own purchases Stepping into voluntary chains Producing our wrists for shackles Rusting our humanity away enchained in a web of unsocial media and notifications We neglect to make space for our own existence Disconnecting from our own physical experience We don't even feel our fingers typing and swiping Hoarding gluttonous over likes and comments and click bait headlines Consumed by our own consummation We never have any silence I yearn to exist in a space where our eyes like stars all but blaze Awake with acute awareness of the present moment Where we break shackles and push comfort zones Basking in the raw beauty of an exuberant life we are conscious to experience I yearn to exist together as radiant as the stars in the vastest galaxy
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Jan 27, 2017
Jan 27, 2017 at 5:25 PM UTC
To Exist
I yearn to exist in a space where the stars all but blaze Where “stars” aren’t celebrities their plaster faces plastered on magazine covers lining the shopping aisles But where they bask in the night sky unpolluted And exist radiantly Where the culture ceases to revolve around the newest latest fashion or video And instead revolves around the ripening of figs And the blooming of chrysanthemums And the migrations of the swallows Where we look like awestruck children to those unpolluted stars above us and this great earth around us to tell the time and pass the seasons, Living then in harmony with the revolution of the very soil and air from which our life flows It’s easy to forget I crave an environment that does not depend upon phone screens Where my peers and myself do not walk through life in an addicted daze Unaware of the haze that descends as an effect of such technological dependence We are walking around with our eyes unconsciously searching for the stimulus that society constantly feeds us We are tripping over ourselves just trying to keep up These electronic signals flashing upon thin panels of glass And This is what we call Living The dopamine flooding our brains when that text vibration brings our popularity to attention Capturing our attention holding it captive We are prisoners of our own purchases Stepping into voluntary chains Producing our wrists for shackles Rusting our humanity away enchained in a web of unsocial media and notifications We neglect to make space for our own existence Disconnecting from our own physical experience We don't even feel our fingers typing and swiping Hoarding gluttonous over likes and comments and click bait headlines Consumed by our own consummation We never have any silence I yearn to exist in a space where our eyes like stars all but blaze Awake with acute awareness of the present moment Where we break shackles and push comfort zones Basking in the raw beauty of an exuberant life we are conscious to experience I yearn to exist together as radiant as the stars in the vastest galaxy
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47
Get your ******* life out of my facebook, stop ******* twittering in my ear, hang your selfie with a vine.
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Aug 5, 2015
Aug 5, 2015 at 7:44 PM UTC
Unsocial media
I decided to make some changes for myself starting with my social life It seems that whenever I trust somebody I end up paying some sort of price I need to start doing good in school I cannot keep ******** around When the pressure is high and life is out of control I gotta keep my feet on the ground I need to do more physically I sit around too much I need to start hanging out with more people that way I do not turn into an unsocial nut I need to start reaching my goals they are very important to me I need to think more about my future there is so much that I want to see I need to change my attitude I am turning into a ***** I need to stop being jealous of others I am too old to be throwing any fits I need to start making changes now there is no better time than the present I need to start setting up a life for myself and drop all of my bad habits I need to be a better friend before I lose someone very important When my friends make stupid life long decisions it is my job to love them, not judge them I need to re-think about a lot of things I am starting to hate the person I am becoming I need to catch myself before I fall too hard and forever lose myself
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Sep 22, 2015
Sep 22, 2015 at 4:05 AM UTC
I Am Losing Myself (What The Hell Happened To Me)
2 AM, My phone lights up, With a message from you, "Lol What's up?" Nothing. What's new? "A pic for a pic?" I guess conversations run hollow, Makes sense, These days, I photograph Things I don't like, To get followed But, a picture of my *** Is that all you want from me? My DM's get flooded With **** like that constantly. It makes me feel good, At times I suppose, My mediocre body, Disguised by a pose. Buzz Buzz "Did you fall asleep?" I did, but I lied, I said I couldn't even sleep if I tried. "So, a pic for a pic?" Now I have to respond, But, maybe, i'll send something with all my clothes on Or off- It's all art to me honestly, A mix of good lighting, And self-portrait photography. 2AM I get a notification, "X0Katie" likes your photo. She doesn't know me, but cool.
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Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 9:28 PM UTC
unsocial media
With no make on and eye lash hangin’ Pumping on E. bassy travelling the subway Friday jumps on you, with expectation galore: Drink, gloat, sitting on- Refurbished old rustic sofas on the far end of the bar. Would your TGIF be a spent screaming over the music? To make yourself heard with sweaty drunk happy hearts grinding? Or would it be a cosy comforter holding you tight- While you binge on anything scrolled now since the dragons flew? Measuring ourselves to our own scales is- Scary, if mildly put; social beings we are, to be, is a need- But contentment may lie in unexpected unsocial moments sometime then- As the years grey by, clear becomes the crystal, ever much so. Random thoughts of a wandering mind; Smother not, caress quietly- tune into some AI’d playlist; Put on that conversation repellent, we all call earphones And glow warmly in your sweet company, for it is TGI’my’F.
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Jun 24, 2019
Jun 24, 2019 at 2:51 PM UTC
morning bass
I’ve always wondered... Where did the little Lilah go? I’m so different She was outgoing and extroverted, And I am shy and unsocial But... I’ve finally realized That we are the same I am me 13 years ago or not I’ve just changed And I hope it has been for the better Because I can’t really go back and change it... Right?
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Jul 8, 2019
Jul 8, 2019 at 10:33 AM UTC
I Am Me
Low or high your time is in short supply Staring at screens destroys dreams It's not all bad reconnected with old friends it's mad But get it in perspective, when out with friends be with them, real life collective.
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Jan 10, 2018
Jan 10, 2018 at 12:30 PM UTC
Unsocial Network.
How sweet is the affliction of humanity to speak of it's ills renders me unsocial to think of it's crimes too horrendous How sweet it is to turn an eye away And farewell, sweet world, my dearest fiend. That we remain calm and serene while all things great and small burn makes us one of a kind. That I have secluded my sanity from all *********** of my fellow creatures and have remitted self to tangled words and convoluted thoughts ... makes all of my internal organs breath easier. How sweet is our affliction. Humanity! :: 10-07-2018 ::
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Oct 7, 2018
Oct 7, 2018 at 11:39 PM UTC
OCTOBER 7, 2018