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dotsJournal: The Boxerdots
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Mood: Sleepy

"Still a man hears
what he wants to hear
and disregards the rest."
-Simon & Garfunkel

...Created 2008-03-26 01:39:17

dotsJournal: "Where Is She?"dots
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Mood: Confused

By Peter Cherches

Where is she, I wondered, when she wasn't there. If she's not here she could be anywhere. She could be anywhere and not alone.

I began to imagine the worst. At every imagining I thought I had imagined the worst, then I imagined something even worse. It got to the point where my imaginings no longer included her. I realized that the worst did not encompass her. As my imaginings continued, as worst superseded worst, making the preceding worst only worse, I began to forget her. As worst got worse, I forgot her more. Things were getting pretty bad, and I had almost forgotten her completely, when she reappeared.

...Created 2008-03-20 21:59:57

dotsJournal: dots
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Mood: Melancholy

I'm glad all the pictures are
blurry.

...Created 2008-02-15 12:58:14

dotsJournal: Untitleddots
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Mood: Overwhelmed

Poetry
is the euphemism
of all
reality.

...Created 2008-01-27 20:23:06

dotsJournal: Pablo Neruda.dots
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Mood: Thinking...

Poetry
From: ‘Memorial de Isla Negra’

And it was at that time... Poetry came
to find me. Don’t know, don’t know from where,
it leapt, winter or the river.
Don’t know how or when
no, not words, not
voices, not silence,
but I was called from the street,
from the branches of the night,
suddenly, from the others,
in violent flames,
or coming back alone,
I, without a face,
it touched me.

I did not know how to say, my mouth
no names,
my eyes
were blind,
and something began in my soul,
fever or lost wings,
and I made it alone,
deciphering,
that fire,
and I wrote the first, vague line,
vague, without a body, pure
nonsense,
pure knowledge,
of he who knows nothing,
and suddenly saw
the sky
unlock
and open,
planets,
pulsating spaces,
perforated shadows,

riddled
with fires, flowers, flights,
the revolving night, the universe.
And I the smallest thing,
made drunk by the great void,
starred,
in the image, likeness
of mystery,
felt myself pure part
of abyss,
turned with the starlight,
my heart broken loose in the wind.

...Created 2008-01-20 21:03:35

dotsJournal: Awesome.dots
-------------------------------------------
Mood: Angry

I just typed an entire story and accidentally pressed the backspace button.

I hate my life.

...Created 2007-07-15 02:31:17

dotsJournal: Regina Spektor.dots
-------------------------------------------
Mood: Enlightened.

Life inside the music box ain't easy
The mallets hit
The gears are always turning
And everyone inside the mechanism
Is yearning to get out
And sing another melody completely
So different from the one they're always singing
I close my eyes and think that I have found me
But then I feel mortality surround me
I want to sing another melody
So different from the one I always sing
but when I do the dishes
I run the water very very very hot
And then I fill the sink to the top with bubbles of soap
And then I set all the bottle caps I own afloat
And it's the greatest voyage in the history of plastic
And then I slip my hands in and start to make waves
And then I dip my tongue in and take a taste
It tastes like soap but it doesn't really taste like soap
And then I lower in my whole mouth and take a gulp
And start to feel mortality surround me
I close my eyes and think that I have found me
But life inside the music box ain't easy
The mallets hit
The gears are always turning
And every one inside the mechanism
Is yearning to get out
And sing another melody completely
Is yearning to get out
Is yearning to get out
Is yearning to get out

...Created 2007-07-01 04:15:31

dotsJournal: blues.dots
-------------------------------------------
Mood: Stressed

"I never loved nobody fully,
always one foot on the ground.
And by protecting my heart truly,
I got lost in the sound."
-RS

I wrote a poem.
It is more useless thoughts than an actual poem.
Somehow I am still proud of it.

PS,
i don't really have -118 on my comment thing.
i had -29 until someone spammed me.

...Created 2007-06-27 14:59:44

dotsJournal: Terribly Tragicdots
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Mood: Frustrated

I haven't written a damn poem for about a month.

I am DRAAAAAAINED.


"They say they don't know when, but a day is gonna come...where there won't be a moon and there won't be a sun. It'll just be black. It'll just go back to the way it was before."
-Conor Oberst

...Created 2007-06-01 21:38:42

dotsJournal: Weekday blahs.dots
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Mood: Lumpy.

Lately I lack any sort of motivation in any form.
It's appalling.
I am a big fat lazy lump and I hate it.

...Created 2007-05-22 21:46:24