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Discussion in 'Essays' started by jakeminick, May 22, 2011.



    jakeminick McGonagall's Ghost

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    :goofy:[random abstract rants thrown in an order that kind of flows. don't bother if you're looking for something that makes sense]

    Talking shadows;Triangle thought;Therapy;Commercial mornings;Drive thru hope;
    Amidst the between sleep exhibitions Of slipping away And what my lonely possessions Will leave behind As a final defined life They’ll say He died before his time (If he’d ever had one coming) And I wonder if running this Through my head so much is healthy.
    My hypnosis does not suggest that a solidifying ritual has yet pushed the boat down a definite current (with little peripheral through haze on the forest). Therefore, I do not “speak from the heart”, I collide from multiple angles and contemplate which mixture fits best with the trickle from my center. Which, usually I can’t find but, can smell the moisture of it, while trudging through the desert of wind carried purpose.
    (A briefly cohesive voyage is to gain wisdom and employ it)
    I am collecting gloss from each philosophical beast to be heated and shaped into new windows. The excelling elements surface like worms in abyssal storms.
    Apes grab at the tails of different color snakes and argue about the taste. Until their descendants claim that it could only be their father who wrestled it down to look it in the eyes. Each tribe describing the eyes as reflecting only themselves. And under a spiraling of self induced hypnosis they club to death for bananas and the spread of snake-eyed stories. Because justice must be served and, you insulted our tail grabber, I mean, eye seer, so we feel like we should do something, umm, er, (ape roar).
    Hand me down a plastic switch to get through this madness in the rattle of half mind and sadness. It’s a plan we will perfect through attempts at paradise in the locked chest under bloody crest. Get that fucking thing out of my breast and into the next bucket of flesh. " We've got a case of impatience nurse. Better pull the covers back and inject the medicine of sin and righteousness." " He seems to be immune to the diagnosis." "Well, let’s give him another test. Plunge his face into this bee’s nest. Ah success! He doesn’t like it."
    It’s still just a…it’s still just a…it’s still just a mix of information formulated into a path…and so is that…and so is that…playdough…life in a prison with sessions of solitary confinement glistening windows to madness…that’s just a…that’s just a…if they’re all just a…then why is this so cemented to perception…basis…pyramids need a basis…from the sand to the oasis…there is no apex until the pharaoh is faceless…a lot of amusement in pointless fusion…point to the heavens and align the confusion…it’s a "ha-rah, ha-rah". or increase of production…it’s a "convert the infidels". or an efficient inquisition…it’s a splendid time to be a logical psychotic…it’s a derisive time to continue this frolic…it’s just so fancy to fit in the boxes…with one foot out, and both in galoshes…it’s lovely to fuck in the pattern of language…to jump through the hoops and dress up the damage…look how pretty my cancer. a gorgeous disaster…it keeps running forward to pose for the camera…oh, paint me a stained glass mask, so I can feed off the starlet…everyone, check out the loads that I’ve shot on my face…mmm, yum, it tastes just like fate…where do we go when it’s all just a joke trapped in a cell?
    Carry me to the next realization of infinite cell…beyond all the logic of the parts that propel…insignificant spirals should do so well. as to fuck up their function by creating their hell. The whatever something of higher concentrations would probably say, “be grateful you’ve reached the point to synthesize information, you egotistical bitches of solar condensation.” And to that I would say, “but, this sucks monkey nuts…I’m tired of being held down by a primitive netting of crusty jizem.” And the whatever something would say, “You’re a white blood cell, shut the fuck up and do your goddamn job. There is nothing more you need to be aware of beyond the logistics of synthesizing information. Propagating illogical formulations of information is like mixing your own special gravy and spooning it all over a gravy that has proven to be tasty and not too full of heart attacks. That is why you live in a bowl of unhealthy, mediocre gravy, because there is either an addiction to aging gravy, or there is a frantic spooning of fancy gravy. There doesn’t seem to be much of a taste for logical gravy. Mostly unhealthy gravies with definite flavors. Kfc gravy is awesome but, it’s not real and it’s unhealthy. Meanwhile, you can’t go making gravy out of the combined fat of every animal in existence. That would be Frankenstein Gravy, and goddamn near impossible to get right. So shut the fuck up and synthesize for the sake of synthesis, or, for gravies united. You fucking meat gravy of a system.”


    Posted By jakeminick | May 22, 2011
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    MsJacquiiC Poetica Magnifique

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    I can only take this mind-gravy food-for-thought in very small portions haha!
    Wow - abstract insanity - okay... I'm sure I'll revisit this one. :crazy:


    Posted By MsJacquiiC | May 24, 2011
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    jakeminick McGonagall's Ghost

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    yeah, sorry you had to read that. i was a bit impulsive with this post. i could have at least polished it a little more before i slapped it on here. it's supposed to be "He died before his prime..." on the first part. that actually pisses me off. the whole gravy thing...i don't know. i thought it was amusing.

    all of these rants were written sober in case you were wondering. most of it was thought out except, for the the whole doctor part was subconscious stream but, i thought the post was crazy enough to be interesting. thanks fafsterfish.


    Posted By jakeminick | May 24, 2011
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