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| flow through me angelically twist around don't finish but don't start.
please please blow the harmonica make me swoon, under its shrillness
and under its power and magnificence. bam bam bam the bass rolls
through the earth vroom down the street, it wakes the neighbors into
dreams they epiphanize they forget they sleep they fuck they forget
they sleep. slippery through street is rolls in barrels left and right
and back but it doesn't stay still, don't stay still. don't stop
swimming through it. turn around. start over, keep moving, open the
door leave it open go away and never come back please just stop but
don't start. take your grammar with you, if you need help everyone does
and no one will except you. i need like. like. dance me into the dark
and back into the light, i'm not a singer and i'm not a talent for the
new generation, no one can stop me. no one will look and when they do
they won't see, they'll be blind and i'll remember and they'll
understand and we'll all eat watermelon while conspiring.
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| buttons and flared pantlegs running down an army of consumers.
I'LL BELIEVE IN ANYTHING.
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| when you were young, i fed you candles speckled with sharpie ink. i
printed you pictures of trees tall and wide, telling you that you one
day would grow tall and wide. i showed you what you couldn't do, and
told you what you shouldn't do. i laughed when you cried and i read you
books about the future and jesus christ and you told me you don't care
and i yelled at you because you didn't care and you didn't want to
care. you didn't get it, you never will. sometimes i forget though, i
try to make it not, i try to tell you that you're wrong and i turn my
body inside out but you don't care and again. remind me how it is
remind me the emotion of it, the beauty inside it, the beauty that
broke the mind, that reminded you how hard it is, how impossible it is,
and how wonderfully futile it is. hungry ghosts roam my insides. the
text crumbles into the truest form of what it always was: nothing,
really. but that's ok, it really is, i can handle nothing.
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| oh man oh man oh man let me reiterate oh man. what is this process that
has consumed me, a process most vile and justifiably tense. make me
strong to change world events at the drop of a pin, a head so large
that a hat can't make its way onto. toss away notions of being or
existence and drop into a world of nonsense where the only way out is
key lime pie. forget the things of yesteryear and dive into pools of
chocolate pudding but don't forget your snorkel. please eat this food
and forget those facts, drink these beverages and demolish old houses
full of ratpacked garbage and memoriums of times in varied states of
disarray, undress, incompleteness, and altogether jollyness. dine in
time to the beat of the drums that dangle overhead and guide your
lackluster life and make it glow to states of disenchanted tomfoolery.
i enjoy almonds almost as much as salmon. i enjoy things of taste and
delight; feed me and don't lie to me and be my friend and i will
consider thee a saint among the forsaken. don't be a taxi driver or you
might get into car accidents on purpose, because sometimes they can be
silly dolphins that have realized why god is in the radio. dust off
your playing cards and deal yourself a hand of cards. a flush will win
you a grand prize, life in the big apple with two-hundred thousand a
year; a penthouse overlooking the people in a populace so full of
optomistic cynics and disproving theorists that you may forget that
speakers still fill with noise. glorious like napoleon upon his mighty
steed traveling across france and through the time zones. french like a
madeleine. a tasty treat, though quick to the finish. finnish speaking
zombies are those who will one day save your sinful soul, man, and
remember that when it happens, remember to tip the bastards, they need
the money for a new body in beverly hills. leave the bills alone on the
table, they'll take care of themselves, let's look at pictures of the
celebrities of tomorrow. let's dance in the shine of the heavens, let's
heave our hearts through our throats. let's speak are lungs and digest
in our brains. let's type with the ferocity of cougars and talk with
the audacity of sloths. let's remember the bad times and forget the
good times except when the bad times become the good. let's think about
what happened and when it happened and why it shouldn't of happened.
let's make it happen when we know it can't. let's do that.
how about it? if you're game, you know what to do. tie your shoes, take
a step through the threshhold of your brick house and walk on down to
the center of the line. yell out to the ignorant and the einsteins,
remind them of the life they were forgetting to feast upon, and remind
them to not cannibalize their dreams of yonder ways and places long
forgotten and faded. a clean dish of white cleared off and made new
with soap and water. germs have no place here, not at all.
don't forget the advice. it's important. it all boils down to this:
nothing is everything. at least that's what the left hemisphere
reminds. it could be the right though.
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| as busy as the eastern tradewinds, i stumble over piles and mounds of chocolate mousse and stubborn old shoes. i could remember what i should be doing but instead i focus on what i can do. interactions with people disembodied. learning french could be a good thing.
orangina is delicious, trust me, you should give it a taste if you haven't before. i would like some now. dinner is a timeblock purchased by birth and a great waste of delicious time. but i have to make do with what i can, or else simply mess up the system even more. and no one wants that.
it's time to change lanes and shift gears. and buy a new car. and all that metaphorical jazz. | | |
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