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    dotsJournal: dots
    Mood: The Usual

    Taylor White

    ...Created 2016-11-19 10:22:49

    dotsJournal: dots
    Mood: The Usual

    I'm back. :)

    ...Created 2016-10-02 13:03:53

    dotsJournal: dots
    Mood: The Usual

    That feeling when your GPU driver updates and throws your computer off into the deep end for two days. Somewhere along the lines windows had an identity crisis. I had to reset my BIOS too, to a version that's older than the rig itself.

    . . . .

    ...Created 2016-08-03 16:29:31

    dotsJournal: dots
    Mood: The Usual


    There's a kind of confusion in the air;
    everywhere I see gentle smiles
    the beaches profuse with womanly wiles
    in the rivers, children fishing without a care

    and yet above the license plate of a car
    an american made kind of polished brass export.

    ...Created 2016-07-21 12:23:02

    dotsJournal: dots
    Mood: The Usual

    ...Created 2016-07-02 16:29:57

    dotsJournal: dots
    Mood: The Usual

    Irates dialogue about spurious veracities,
         they the heralds of modern philosophy.
            They are men.

    Hydras play in front of mirrors like a Nix's
         inward look finds Mira; they too
            are harbingers of shallow truths.
               They are women.

    Lunacy galore in the land where momes
       are a wanton myriad splayed across
         tors like a fluorescently hued zephyr.
           They are not innocent.
           .sp1. They, our future, are children.

    And the many chimes of the iconoclasts -
       ebbing back onto itself like a beach wave,
         destroying its efforts - are held in
           the vespertine moribund wind.
           .sp1. They are not poets, philosophers or strumpets;
               they are the sigh of change.

    The fundus of cavities, those below mounds, away
       from the Sun. That is I. The echo of Echo;
         the man lost in the abyss, suffering from echolalia -
    That only whispers of I. I is ubiquitous in society,
       the name van-guarding the socialist jihad
         against the world; the threshold of hope keeping
    Life from being less than an iota. I is the tether
       in the seam of the universe, paradox of Jove -
         I is the product of society.
    I am the product of society.

    A poem I wrote a really long time ago. One of those high school style "Explain how "I am the product of society" by way of any creative writing style". It's called Thales, not intentionally after the philosopher (ironically enough). It was meant to be a gibberish title.

    I've been sifting through a lot of old garbage the past couple of days, and it isn't like this stood out in particular, but I think it really encompasses just how closely I missed the point of the things going on in my life.

    C'est tout.

    ...Created 2016-05-16 14:23:33

    dotsJournal: dots
    Mood: The Usual

    True story: there was this cat at the camp I used to go to when I was a kid that had the hugest literal balls I've ever seen on a cat. he'd drag them on just about anything, but particularly the wood that outlined the outer edge of the gazebo-like structure in which we'd do circus-y things. I remember because I spent a lot of time trying to use only my heels to hang from a trapeze and there he was, looking me dead in my upside-down eyes, rubbing his balls on wood.

    ...Created 2016-05-13 01:55:53

    dotsJournal: dots
    Mood: The Usual

    I'm sipping that guaranteed income kool-aid --
    I'm not slick enough as is with my Sophocles
    sitting on a lawn chair with my feet floating
    in a kiddy pool. damn right there's beer too.

    Am I a lazy socialist or a goodhearted
    economic reformist? it doesn't matter I suppose;
    the question is just conflating morality and duty.
    could I dig a grave with my bare hands?
    the pain of it will make me cry.

    ...Created 2016-04-26 07:07:47

    dotsJournal: dots
    Mood: The Usual

    There's a pervasive indolence inherent
    in understanding too many a thing,
    a evasive inability to decide
    which side or camp you belong in:
    is it self-effacing objectivity
    or the all seeing eye of the subject?

    Science makes of understanding a simple harlot
    that he crassly handles, brute-forcing his way
    to climax by invariably examining each individual
    variable. Literature, on the other hand, waits
    patiently for her prey, stalking by the law of letters:
    that there is, in each place or moment, a word
    that is right above all others, that is choice
    like none other. You wouldn't be able to tell
    philosophy is their progenitor; it makes more sense
    to just call it their child. a motherless child
    fed by the desultory tit of the mind these maniacal
    imperatives with no names or faces, simply instinctual
    impetuses. a rather meaningless circlejerk.

    ...Created 2016-04-22 03:28:11

    dotsJournal: dots
    Mood: The Usual

    Ce n'est qu'une bricole

    A childhood's toy buried in the yard
    partially exposed by the claws of the dog
    and the rain that keeps falling.

    It reeks of that melody, the added
    pirouettes only the space between your eyes
    and brain can do when you've heard the same song
    a couple too many times.

    It's okay, darling, go to bed.
    Close your eyes now.
    Not another word.

    ...Created 2016-03-24 20:06:14

    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.

    In a Corner written by jeniecel
    Mystery Read written by kyserin
    Verse: written by Daniel Barlow
    None the Wiser written by endlessgame23
    Honeymoon written by TheStillSilence
    going,,,"Skin." written by teika5
    Loop-di-Loop written by endlessgame23
    a leaf of shadow and edge written by Daniel Barlow
    Starseed written by endlessgame23
    Twin Intercept written by Daniel Barlow
    Things They (Don't) Say written by TheStillSilence
    FamiliarDemons ©™ written by kyserin
    Coversheets written by TheStillSilence
    Relentless. The Visceral Fracture. written by Daniel Barlow
    Compartments written by TheStillSilence
    Night- time written by Daniel Barlow
    (Untitled Song) written by TeslaKoyal
    When Sirens Whisper written by HisNameIsNoMore
    To the Artist written by HisNameIsNoMore
    Supernatural Cowboy Sleuth written by endlessgame23
    The World written by jjd
    Day 6 written by TheStillSilence
    Beauty Rest written by jackz
    Deep written by Janesaddiction
    Adoration written by TheStillSilence
    Sword in the Water written by Wolfwatching
    Florida's Autumn Solstice written by closetpoet
    // Seasonal Song written by ShadowParadox
    Not the Devil, but the Wind written by endlessgame23
    The Want written by Daniel Barlow




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