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Showing posts from November, 2020


  Man I loved being abused And I think you did too Kinda wish it wasn't over Please come back my four leaf clover Maybe it's no self respect My problem is that I easily forget You and I are the same in that And I think you also want to come back I think the abuse was love A traumatized version from above Neither of us could admit it So we kinda had to split it As Kanye says run away There's nothing left for us to say Except that u can always come back But remember we'll both be under attack

Terraforming The World

  We face a crossroads in life, it is what is it we're going to be like. This happens almost everyday, but we can picture it like a timeline of life. Specifically we can hone in on the period of puberty as a time we were uncertain with ourselves and our goals. It was a time in which we doubted things that were told to us, it was when we didn't have a framework in place of what we called reality. The issue is that this problem didn't magically go away. It only feels as though it did, because we gained more information. We wanted to be seen as smart in our eyes, we wanted answers. It is far from the full picture, though, this is just the surface of the surface of the surface of the insurmountable amount of data and knowledge we could possibly possess.  Yet, when we are challenged, our minds will not form to append this new idea of what we've just learned, it will instead fight it off until we have no choice but to accept it. This happens in war, this happens in the mind,

fat_fucks && thirty-fives

Approaching the surface of the once beautiful Earth, there flew a tornado-y flying machine It wiped the surface of the blue pearl and removed the remnants of souls In thirty-five years, the fat man ate his own In thirty-five years, soaring was a new hope, and a fictitious one at that. There wasn't much to love about the fat man, Except that he was a close reminder to the kids that being fat was ugly That's all he was good for anyways. But also the fat man was you, and the fat man is me, and the fat man is the fat man. Most importantly, the fat man is all of us. Sitting upon the throne of enlightenment was his 50-count McNuggets with a large Diet  Coke (he didn't want the extra calories.) But his fatness was glorious, so much to the world that he developed type II diabetes at  thirty-five, and ashamedness forced him into devouring matter. But the fat man was a hog of the world itself moreso. He hogged its real estate, and used  fat fires to power his fans to cool his sweat h