mmmm

ah, but when people are people
are they not full of shit?

is it possible to not be full of shit
when you're there in front of someone
it's not your fault, you're not trying to
it's just the way things are;

the world is too strange to not have bullshit
without bullshit we could not survive
it's the glue that holds our species together
in fact our drive to stay alive
every muscle spasm approaching a smile
we sit back, relax, have a smoke, crack a bottle
and pretend not to know
we think without thinking
we thought what we didn't
but that thought brought sinking
so we gave up thought; our thoughts were the thoughts we were given
and we chronologically formed "existing conditions"
and we smile and we bow
we tip our hats
and we learn to do this
and we learn to do that
and we sing and we dance
and we drink and we cry
and we bullshit ourselves
and we never ask why
and we bullshit each other
this portion is true
that right now this author
is bullshitting you
but i do not mean to
i have white intentions
but these words i type
are enforced by constrictions
if i break away from the scheme i have crafted
this thing falls apart and you're left with the ashes
if rhyme clashes in a discordic array
you may just stop reading; go on with your day
so i have to keep you on the edge of your brain
i do that with verse and by rhyming everything
if i stopped rhyming words
and i stopped going places
you'd loose all attention
and find my work "tasteless"
i'd be such a loser
insignificant
it's your world i work in
it's my mind's ascent
so i never finished writing this poem
i never finished writing this poem
never finished this poem
never even wrote this poem
you should stop reading this poem
why are you reading this poem
stop yourself from disappoint
ment stop your self from re-involvement
stop reading this poem
stop reading this poem
this poem
reading this poem
is known to cause brain damage
dane bramage spammimg tufts of allegory
fell from the 10th story of the library of insanity
come back with me
look to aisle 3
do you see?
the bookshelf near the iv?
with the hot nurse and fresh jug of kfc?
that one's for you

this one's for me









;3

i just ate your brains.

07.06.10 ; 7:07

expression
and somehow i'm expressing
but what am i expressing
when the end begins?

and what was it worth
was it really for nothing
or was there a purpose
a meaning
a crux?

and what is expression?
what's worth taking time
in this short life we live
for expression; for rhyme

for love and for hate
for attempting to feel
as if someone foreign
won't only
destroy the flow of the
scheme
but institutionalize your
dreams
as if someone could really
truly know
what
you are
at evenfall
as if someone could really
understand all of you
truly feel
what
you are within
what it feels like to be you
even for one second
even for a glimpse so small
it's simply beyond measure
how could they ever
never knows best
but if never's forever;
could you please define "bliss"?


but what is this?

i'm feeling a weight lift
a continuum shift
as if someone or something
gave me a gift
of misunderstood misunderstandings
that lead me deep through the underpinnings
it's not through me
i always thought it would be
it's from you, your teachings
now i see
what expression could be
between you and me

we're free

simultaneously

a-cu-ROSSSS-uuu

undying dedication
and the ability to make it all seem worthwhile
you have more energy to spare
than you could ever place into motion
you're a wreck, a violation of being
but a loyal and cunning mistress
able to leap tall buildings and faster than trains
but only to death and rebirth through fate
excel excel, this saga's about you
of hyatt and your master illpallazzo
and menchi your dinner dish one day will be
koshi rikudo does not approve of this poem


today's experiment.....FAILED