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"watchable" poems
People are disgusting, They'll hurt you in meanest possible ways. They'll misunderstand you, judge you! People are disgusting, Don't talk to them much, Just keep it in optimum touch. They'll treat you like a **** If they make a mistake it's no Biggie, If you commit then it's a major felony. I choose Netflix instead, It does Judge my interest, Shows me the best watchable result, Better are the characters and stories Than fake people and their hollow lies, I choose Netflix for my 'Me' time, To avoid fake friends and their self centered conversation, Except these characters and stories ain't real like people, To wipe my tears and hug me when em alone, But They ain't gonna hurt me either.
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Feb 8, 2019
Feb 8, 2019 at 4:59 PM UTC
People vs Netflix
Maverick ex-cop (Green Beret /Navy Seal /SAS/Ranger) Twiddle of the fingers to crack a 64 bit hexadecimal code Shot but can still beat up bad people and run 15 people firing automatic weapons and they all miss Database that searches the planets population in 2 seconds And has photos of their children and plans of their building Regardless of the crime scene sample, always a rare element that pinpoints location Car chase where a truck can keep up with a Ducati motorbike Organisations that only employ attractive people in lead roles Ugly people are tech specialists sometimes allowed to be ‘quirky’ Even the uglies are attractive people disguised with glasses and bad hairstyles ‘I dream of genie’ gendre were they flirt but never get it on, unless it’s a hospital series Watchable, funny programs that always succumb to sloppy sentimentality High schools complete with intolerance, marginalisation, bullying, and hell on earth, The most disturbing and darkest crime sent to titillate mid evening family viewing Endless humiliation for fatties, chefs, performers, builders, restaurateurs, and troubled teens Dysfunctional law enforcement agencies that never work together under any circumstances Enough, if we need this thick coating of unreality, perhaps its time to switch off?
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Feb 23, 2013
Feb 23, 2013 at 5:34 PM UTC
TV Tripe
It eats at me, this singular question. It repeats in my head, over and over—how can I desire what I already possess? I look at the books on my shelf and the coffee table, and I want to love them completely. I want to never buy another book. I look at the TV, a moderately sized HD set already obsolete, but what a fantastic machine it is, and though I've owned it for years, can I desire it? Or do I want something larger, something 4K? I'm trying to desire the objects I own, so when the day comes, when my singularity comes to an end, and I'm waiting for Her to come home, I will be lovesick, anxious, feverish, pure in my desire. I've been in relationships and fantasized about one-off affairs. I've had one-off affairs and fantasized about something whole, something reliable. This TV is watchable and this book is readable. I think a woman is inherently better at desiring what's in her possession. She gives life, she creates, she's given to infrastructure, and future-building. A man destroys. A man conquers. A man stands in the corner of a room with a drink in his hand and recounts his destructions and conquests. You're a woman. Can you tell me how it's done?
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Jul 17, 2016
Jul 17, 2016 at 2:57 PM UTC
Conversation VI
I don't want you, I say as I stare longingly at my screen for a message to appear with a certain name that does things to me. I don't want you, I say as the tips of my fingers tingle and my heart becomes a drum, the soundtrack to your entrance, to the live wire my body becomes. I don't want you, I say as I surpress a cry when your watchable lips mutter a bye and I feel empty without a presence of something I can't get myself to say, is a pleasance I don't want you, no, not at all Not only because I can't admit it (Too proud and afraid to say another person makes me whole That I become needy without control) But because that it's not true I don't want you - I need you, and Owning you is all I think I'm able to do
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May 1, 2016
May 1, 2016 at 8:39 AM UTC
I don't want you.
How many days until tomorrow (& do not bolster me—I know the day is long) because tomorrow I promised something to myself, a sort of present for the hard work of not repeatedly ramming my skull into a pack of venture capitalists & I'm pretty sure I could take the Koch brothers in a fight even though I am the minority & Fox News killed racism just as MSNBC killed watchable TV & all of this is so incredibly unimportant because I saw the sun born of yesterday's ashes the rebirth of light as so many slept & dreamed but I do not dream, no, I do not wander so far away. I think I hold my world closer than that.
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Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 7:40 PM UTC
Funnelmouth (III)