...in the brinks of all these thoughts of/in staring at people gorge themselves to death

how we
conduct restriction with contempt and reproduction.
A moment of movement.


;;;;;;;;;;;;;((((((((((((§§§§§§§§§§§))))))))))))))))));;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;

"-"
A moment.
Momentarily two years pass.
People are noble,lie,honourable, cry.
People (is) like wine.
Wine betters with age.
Justifies itself with taste.
Jokes get better.
The list grows longer.
Production is the enemy to possibilites.
Possibilities (are) the enemy of
Prolonged happiness.
"+"
The form.
Two years formed.
Created from a solid pool of thought.
Objects fail,produce,trail, reduce.
Objects (are) like time.
Time betters with fame.
Justifies itself with humility.
Laughter gets louder.
Conduction is the enemy to stagnant.
Stagnant (is) the enemy of
Movement.

Punk

Alright mother fuckers I have
a poem for all you motherfuckers    .

It some strut like this bitchass dick.

Trailers are Like Minutes

Seems like, without warning, so sad, all things have class.
Believing is not always based on belief.
Most things are events that face a lifetime of fading away.
The last scene is not always about passing.
Always.
Not all ways, always
I wanted to have a long shot.
All of these things are kinda different.
It's from the strong perspective.
It's pretty much as much as we have it.
Maybe it does.
What does?
We've got to work on something BIG.
Let's Makes something BIG.
We have to make something BIG, in matter of fact.
(ha heh Ha)

PURE

hey you proud crowd

my name is yours.

Little bits popping out.

(heh heh ha ha)

would you like to do it now?

Sounds like the beatles.

"Did you hear it?"

genau.

"This boy will get you back again."

This boy. ;)

"Pocket full of marbles,"

Says a man.

"the german Folk."

Lei-la Lei...Lei-la Lei

"how I go, going home, I go"

...

"Pure"ly

Nuisance.

alright.

I'm an inspiration.


...a nuisance.


solo forte?


If all that is, what may be, the way is what is more than what can see with it, nothing more than what is needed to reach clarity.




no sense.

nonsense.

a nuisance.

Simple, You are.

when you see what people have done for you and what you can do for other people.

yeah that's melancholy .



simply, you Are.
simply you'll stay, when you ask for more.





if all see all?
what's In it's place?

a small arguement

"Get out!"
The spit hanging from his mouth was coming through a bit of the gash in his face, his porcelain whites on the brink of collapsing, were up to making decisions.
His firm finger pointing through two walls; the first being their sleeping/love making station of the house. Since she refused to wash their blankets, for the sake of refurbishing equal justice in the household, saliva, food, the body and it's liquids made ambiguous spots and shapes throughout it. One looks like a horse upside down on a brownish red ball. The bottom of the bed, dust from the kitchen brought by their feet.


As the fingers demand breaks through the first station there is the Food/entertainment/occasional love making station of the house. The fingers demand.

HAPPY

I need intensity. I need necessities of higher forms than you'd expect. I like these extremes that run my life. Extremities are only limited by the uneventful balance between indulging and depriving. I should stick myself in a foley room; edit myself to death. Penetrate my skin with objects able to, for each misdeed and misunderstanding, take "one" out for every objective accomplished thoughtfully.

:edit myself to death.


The sunny ball behind it's sheet of quilted storm, always smiling, is forcing itself through for the sake of optimism, a lazy strobe for the apathetic and melancholic, and hidden for the pessimistic.

This could very well be why I'm always slightly depressed and slightly prideful.
Addicted, addicted. Addicted addict.

Hey Hey now, I'm happy.

Have you ever been told to do something you didn't want to do, but when you did it it's exactly what you needed?

fuck it.

It's our human imaginations, options, and limitations to controlling the latter that make us adapt to what ever concept we are decided to be put in.

Who ever makes the greater argument.

Keep it to yourself. Put it out there.
We are doing it.
Keep it to yourself; stubborn.
Put it out there; insecure.
Always criticism.

So i write this out of criticism of my stubborn, insecure pride, depressed enough to be happy.

Happiness is fleeting, but joy can be permanent. you can be sad but joyful to be living. That may be sad, but that's the joyful truth.

(A Love Life of A Leaf)



(My Life has meaning again...
I seem to believe.
My Heart is dripping lead...
whatever that means.
My Pencil's spilling red...
rhyming makes poetry.


You're in Love again...
whatever that means.
Progressed!!!
...turned feelings into Bread
to keep the crowds moving.
Hidden within her Breasts
to keep them from Thinking.)

<...Standing in City chairs
to restroom for seeking
Excite, meant to be happy
to be
hear a ringing in my
eerie spots
someone noticing me

Her Pretty often
It's been awhile
glare
has something too
sea waves
it's lazy hand too
hypnotize dreamy
hare hops in the meadow's lair
a laissez-faire....defeat>



{Relate and Recognize
the words we use
beyond their
Tradition
of
"magnificence".}

[Tradition can hinder self-confidence/awareness.]

...'cause

it's all good.


(...when you put what you feel into what you say it may bring a hold in Misery's Mysterious Ol' Soul.
Bringing it back to be a better me to criticize
"oh to criticize!..more more more!"
To feel what you say...
Oh lord lord lord)

..