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    poetry


    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: The Usual

    a death and dying
    a squealing desire (squelched)
    an empty set of desires
    bespoken
    while also alleviated
    death and drumming
    a soft chant
    cantor within descent
    a phallic distrust
    bouncing pennies
    wretch in destressing
    (all a loaner who could do
    alone by loaning)
    crushed and heave the heavy
    heed the hardening tooth
    sit and embrace a head
    effacing the grace
    warriors live and die
    people live and die
    are people graceful?
    am I line? are you a story?
    have you come to pick me up
    shame in estranged lands
    homesick for imaginary
    rosebuds and whims
    a decorating line of clothing
    a depth of mixture in color
    and shape, all a superficial elate
    warmth. friction. fiction.
    coldblooded hope. blind. blight.
    is romance hope diluted in love
    or the idea that the unattractive
    can be desired.
    respect & recognition a relegated possibility
    dismissal and failure a closing in.
    hear my voice, but not its sounds
    the ideas, the imagining of me within it
    ephemeral and absent – in your voice
    a reality of me. speak it.
    set that me free; the ideas of you
    a hymn hummed in silent salvation
    deliberation.
    death and dying. being.
    never yes.

    ...Created 2017-09-07 14:44:37

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: The Usual

    March arrived like a lion
    dawdling about with such intensity
    it could see through you –
    yet still too busy to tend
    the cubs.

    His lioness swam by May, June into July
    blisteringly hot and yet
    she had a humbling warmth to her;
    eyes you could approach
    maybe learn to hug
    given enough time.

    Their litter, a puzzle in April
    an arrangement of beautiful notes
    orchestrated like soldiers not yet at war
    ready to begin, to live their lie
    to belt out their brightest roars.

    ...Created 2017-08-29 00:52:49

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: The Usual

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pK_NdYTyKWQ

    Reminds me of them old diablo tunes, but with a livelier less "I'm going to kill you before this campfire burns out" vibe.

    ...Created 2017-08-08 01:30:36

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: The Usual

    ES was never something special. I have just always needed something to obsess about online. And here I thought I was nostalgic about being an anonymous stranger on the interwebs.

    Why do I need something to obsess about online? Well I've already established that there's this brain-numbing facet to the whole experience – primarily, that looking at a screen allows you brain to effectively ignore more sensorial data because the scope of what's actually changing in front of you in on average less than say, when you'd be walking around. That's part of the reason why you "get so focused" or "lose track of time" so easily. But that doesn't really explain the underlying psychological drive (unless it's just another way to offset anxiety about death.. but I feel like that's one of those all encompassing answers that can never truly be justified, but is always uncannily plausible).

    ...Created 2017-07-24 02:29:38

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: The Usual

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GF6oL0IwgD0

    Have you ever tried to explain to another person the difficulty of immovably doing nothing? The compulsion, the inability, the suffocating addiction. There is a world around you. For some this is like a warm, comforting blanket -- maybe even of approval. For others, this is like the cold shiver that follows the irrational. Is there a zombie under that car over there? Did a werewolf just peek its head out from that alley over there? Am I being preyed upon but another human being with bleeding intent?

    But those are just your imagination running away with your actual fears, dressing them up like theatrical pieces meant to burst into fireworks at the end of the show. Are you mediocre? Does anybody actually like you? Do they matter (any of the things you do)?

    And you chase happiness. God's moral protection is inadmissible to you (and you it), because in a sense, that's too obvious. Virtue, accomplishment, pride -- these are sophistries of nobler minds who've accepted (perhaps chosen) some imperative or another. No, you chase the basest filth, the wont satisfaction of flesh. The warmth of company.

    But you are left alone, at night, in your bed of faceless company, to wonder. Does it matter? And if you hate the idea of birthing children so much, why then would creating AI be any different? Because you could just confine it to an existence outside of these concerns. They may not drive life, but they do yours. Perhaps a continuous awareness of all things known would circumvent these moments of weakness by defaulting them to their possible solution. Or, perhaps, for a lack thereof, this would be a kind of painless torment. Machines do not feel pain. This is why we find them so wonderful. There are no moral stipulations. They're a nobler playground.

    And there it is, sterile and staring you in the face. Tangents; your double-edged sword. The distractions that ease you into the inevitable passing of time -- the distraction that invariably consumes what of it belongs to you. Is this what a deal with the devil feels like? Am I dead? Waiting for death with my little numbered chit, finding whatever distraction I can in the waiting room to dissipate my frustration at being bored.

    You are still playing along to your imagination's antics. An elaborately dressed fact: even if you did find motion, action, it would come to the same question. Are you contributing to something (anything)? Or are you just distracting yourself from yourself while the undertaker prepares your lot? This approval you need, success, progeny, creation.

    I think at some point everyone realizes that love is like a state of mind, a choice, an extension of your actions. Love cannot exist outside of you. It is, in every inch of its existence, some kind of projection of you. Being in love is as simple as saying you are (and perhaps believing it). Being in a loving relationship is no more complicated than two people who've come together in their decision to love each other. We are fickle though, and change our minds. It's not that love dies out, or dissipates; it's more like we slowly stop choosing it. Choosing each other. But like all things in life, we aren't in control. We are subject to some kind of mystery as this is from whence our meaning is born. Our meaning beyond the meaningless. It's the illusion that we aren't in control that makes us find meaning. And so you've accidentally fallen in love with this wonderful person who's also, coincidentally, fallen in love with you.

    But don't misunderstand me. Love does exist outside of you. There is an arm of love you must interpret, understand, feel. An expression of objective facts which smoother themselves against you. There is a kind of accidental meaning in embracing it -- a part of the meaning which exceeds the simple choice to love. Or at least, that's what you should believe if you want to be okay. Because at the end of the day, being okay with it, your life, is the only alternative.

    ...Created 2017-06-21 17:17:47

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: The Usual

    www.youtube.com/watch?v=bjjc59FgUpg

    ...Created 2017-03-03 03:48:10

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: The Usual

    ...Created 2017-01-29 03:10:52

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: The Usual

    @@ixy-scontent.fykz1-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t31.0-8/16422889_1308121722615251_5505409875425959456_o.jpg?oh=c3c0b0de54baa345d174743484a9ca85&oe=59046295@600,300@

    ...Created 2017-01-29 03:10:23

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: The Usual

    @@i-scontent.fykz1-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t31.0-8/16422889_1308121722615251_5505409875425959456_o.jpg?oh=c3c0b0de54baa345d174743484a9ca85&oe=59046295@600,300@

    ...Created 2017-01-29 03:09:58

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: The Usual

    ...Created 2017-01-29 03:09:14

    Be kind, take a few minutes to review the hard work of others <3
    It means a lot to them, as it does to you.

    Live In Between written by teika5
    The Curtain Call written by faideddarkness
    Night- time written by Daniel Barlow
    Not the Devil, but the Wind written by endlessgame23
    Ciggarettes written by Poetic_tragedy6
    Whispered written by endlessgame23
    untitled written by Outlaw
    Lost Inside the Race written by ForgottenGraves
    Delicious Stews written by elephantasia
    The World written by jjd
    Verse: written by Daniel Barlow
    A bit of Pain written by teika5
    Florida's Autumn Solstice written by closetpoet
    no sky on the other side written by teika5
    A Thousand Reflections written by endlessgame23
    Snippet written by Daniel Barlow
    To the Artist written by HisNameIsNoMore
    Beauty Rest written by jackz
    Twin Intercept written by Daniel Barlow
    None the Wiser written by endlessgame23
    A Worsening Effect written by Daniel Barlow
    Day 6 written by TheStillSilence
    a leaf of shadow and edge written by Daniel Barlow
    going,,,"Skin." written by teika5
    Untitled written by Daniel Barlow
    Sword in the Water written by Wolfwatching
    Adoration written by TheStillSilence
    Dream written by closetpoet
    A Sense Of Things written by Daniel Barlow
    Things They (Don't) Say written by TheStillSilence

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    January 10 07
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