"Again?"
No parasite, always.
"Why bother? Do something fun."
Fun is for fools. Lets go create some chaos. Change up some 'comfort' zones. Lets...
"Don't say it. Just do it."
Alrighty then, lets do it tonight.
"Yay!"
Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Moderator: Editors
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Coming to mind the mathematical model of squares. Square boundaries filled with squares.
Fathom: six feet; nautical 1.2 mph and yet no. No, the grid is a shield protected by oscillations of wave(s) projected ; visual halo of linear expressions/expansions.
A sail becoming a grid as it propels the idea faster than the speed of light.
Full stop: Reverse parallels. Bring into focus opposing vibrations of metaphoric hive tubes.
Squares.
Tubes.
Circles.
Infinity to fulfill a line.
"Operator. Number please?" She was humanoid in appearance because you can not relate to what really is happening. None of you.
; God.''
"One moment..." (The levels shuffled much like the predictions of shuffling a deck of cards:)
"Go ahead."
001 0 -1001- 001 11-4...
1. static
2. reality
3. alien
4. time
5.5--------------------------------------------no--------------------------------------------
66.66----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------definit3ly no.
.7. (deleted)
"The number you have dialed is no longer in control. Your operation will now be terminated." The operator phased into a vast nebula of utter recognition.
***
Last night started a marriage of tube and square. Lowest level of lowest quadrant. Left to be right on either side.
Gobbly gook?
s
s
s
s
S
A dragon and the lady is NOT Israel.
The Dragon belly drops through the matrix to reveal opposing screens
Command and Control: Battle damage beyond reproach. it continues now as the grid glows between ice and flame.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
"Chockery." The old man was feeling a bit cranky. And why not. Last night the non-humans lost another battle. Not really important for the non-humans as they had plenty of ships but for the humans and the old man it was worse than the honeybee collapse.
"Whatcha be going on about now? Yee a bit sodden like after the shock?" Now she was an old woman but really not old and really not a woman.
"Aye, those fuckers owed me some Time. Usual like thye chose to rebel gainst the common sound."
(Some dogs were barking. Corgi's mostly. Mostly driving the loony eleves bonkers.)
"Whatch goona do now?"
The old man smiled as he lifted his forest shirt to reveal a stunning sparkle of a Sun trapped inside. "Let them play fer a bit." And the Sun was released. A very bright glow filled the sky.
"Ye like a poke of smoke?" The old man asked the woman who was not a woman.
"Sutpad bastard. Course i do." And with a deep inhale the woman fragmented and joined with the smoke, swirling skyward to dance circles round the growing glow.
"Whatcha be going on about now? Yee a bit sodden like after the shock?" Now she was an old woman but really not old and really not a woman.
"Aye, those fuckers owed me some Time. Usual like thye chose to rebel gainst the common sound."
(Some dogs were barking. Corgi's mostly. Mostly driving the loony eleves bonkers.)
"Whatch goona do now?"
The old man smiled as he lifted his forest shirt to reveal a stunning sparkle of a Sun trapped inside. "Let them play fer a bit." And the Sun was released. A very bright glow filled the sky.
"Ye like a poke of smoke?" The old man asked the woman who was not a woman.
"Sutpad bastard. Course i do." And with a deep inhale the woman fragmented and joined with the smoke, swirling skyward to dance circles round the growing glow.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
"What's his name?" A voice
A reply, "I don't know and don't care. In one ear and out of the other with no stopping in between."
***
"Number please?" A bored non-humane operkator.
Kator? There's blood in the water, tide is coming in. Blood in the water and they is gonna die.
Oper, per of and pertaining to. Too much?
"I would like the number to 340303-21."
"You are not allowed. No such number exists." The operkator changed shape; skin the hue of burning embers, the smell of rotten flesh.
"Satan says ya all is gonna die. This true? Ya'll gonna die?"
Nope.
Nada.
Never.
And besides, there is group therapy and Prozac for Guardian Angels.
A reply, "I don't know and don't care. In one ear and out of the other with no stopping in between."
***
"Number please?" A bored non-humane operkator.
Kator? There's blood in the water, tide is coming in. Blood in the water and they is gonna die.
Oper, per of and pertaining to. Too much?
"I would like the number to 340303-21."
"You are not allowed. No such number exists." The operkator changed shape; skin the hue of burning embers, the smell of rotten flesh.
"Satan says ya all is gonna die. This true? Ya'll gonna die?"
Nope.
Nada.
Never.
And besides, there is group therapy and Prozac for Guardian Angels.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Precious moments today with ghosts and Dreams.
Evil tries to kill Dreams...
Evil will never kill mine.
Boy Scouts. French trappers. Nez Perce. All inspirational along the death trail of the Salmon.
***
"Evil does not exist. Humans are wonderful." Said by one of the many cookie-cutter psychologists.
"Yes it does." A garden gnome replied. Even a retarded garden gnome named, Stink Weed knew about evil.
"No it does not. And gnomes definitely do not exist." A smug retort by a PhD asshole from Harvard, Princeton, Cambridge, (and all the rest of the morons with papers hanging on a wall of some sort.)
"Evil does not exist? Really... Okay, watch this."
(The screams of nightmare induced reality really put into perspective just what pure evil is as the Demon opened the soul portal to release the ambitions of humanity. Not a pretty sight)
Evil tries to kill Dreams...
Evil will never kill mine.
Boy Scouts. French trappers. Nez Perce. All inspirational along the death trail of the Salmon.
***
"Evil does not exist. Humans are wonderful." Said by one of the many cookie-cutter psychologists.
"Yes it does." A garden gnome replied. Even a retarded garden gnome named, Stink Weed knew about evil.
"No it does not. And gnomes definitely do not exist." A smug retort by a PhD asshole from Harvard, Princeton, Cambridge, (and all the rest of the morons with papers hanging on a wall of some sort.)
"Evil does not exist? Really... Okay, watch this."
(The screams of nightmare induced reality really put into perspective just what pure evil is as the Demon opened the soul portal to release the ambitions of humanity. Not a pretty sight)
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Cool, so Merlin built Stonehedge... Ha! And did you know that eating raisins reminds a person of Igor eating bugs?
"What's up now numbnuts?"
Nothing. Nuthin et all. Just inspired by rocks behind-the-back as if Charidn himself drives the dggare deep.
*
In plain sight the sounds of rebellion
There, see near now the wisps of Avalon
Neath starry stilled waters her hands billow of moon's light.
Sword of alliance shreds away the armor from doubt
Rusted and raw
Points so sharp from weathered stone and stone
Forgotten then as now
Laughter, joy, mirth; circular of seating leaving centered,
a blackened Heart.
"What's up now numbnuts?"
Nothing. Nuthin et all. Just inspired by rocks behind-the-back as if Charidn himself drives the dggare deep.
*
In plain sight the sounds of rebellion
There, see near now the wisps of Avalon
Neath starry stilled waters her hands billow of moon's light.
Sword of alliance shreds away the armor from doubt
Rusted and raw
Points so sharp from weathered stone and stone
Forgotten then as now
Laughter, joy, mirth; circular of seating leaving centered,
a blackened Heart.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
charidn oye sim-lin-lin(ha! tt tt in tou sin)
!
!
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Motherhood is always inspiring. To see a young woman holding her baby while her three-year old son learns of the world of excavators and strange looking adults.
The Father on the other hand was testosterone laden with stupidity.
(
)
(
Mother and Father
Written by: A Lost Soul
As the clouds scoured the blue sky, leaving furrows of place
To follow with the silence
A woman aborts her fetus, her body, her rights
Man, he only cares for money, sex, drugs, and beer, at least so many like him exist
Impregnation only an inconvenience, one a pill, a doctor, a knife can take away.
What then those that follow?
A woman can cling to the belief she did the 'right' thing.
A man throws such thoughts away as he looks to penetrate another vagina on another day.
A fetus, a baby, a soul given and held in God's hands for eternity.
It must be said though, for those women who love children with everything they are
They truly sacrifice and give everything for their children
Striving and praying
Hoping and working
To guide
To nourish and provide
Amazing...
To the women who know what Life is truly all about, i salute and protect their ways
And if there is hope to give i hope the children grow into something like their mothers
Boys to men to accept responsibility
Girls to women to keep the chain of motherhood growing
now and forever
Amen.
The Father on the other hand was testosterone laden with stupidity.
(
)
(
Mother and Father
Written by: A Lost Soul
As the clouds scoured the blue sky, leaving furrows of place
To follow with the silence
A woman aborts her fetus, her body, her rights
Man, he only cares for money, sex, drugs, and beer, at least so many like him exist
Impregnation only an inconvenience, one a pill, a doctor, a knife can take away.
What then those that follow?
A woman can cling to the belief she did the 'right' thing.
A man throws such thoughts away as he looks to penetrate another vagina on another day.
A fetus, a baby, a soul given and held in God's hands for eternity.
It must be said though, for those women who love children with everything they are
They truly sacrifice and give everything for their children
Striving and praying
Hoping and working
To guide
To nourish and provide
Amazing...
To the women who know what Life is truly all about, i salute and protect their ways
And if there is hope to give i hope the children grow into something like their mothers
Boys to men to accept responsibility
Girls to women to keep the chain of motherhood growing
now and forever
Amen.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
"Set it down. Gently. I said, gently." A bit of concern in the detectives tone.
"I'm trying."
"Try harder. Easy. Easy there. There. We got it?"
"Yes. Ahh, that's better."
You see, the two detectives were gay and one was helping the other sit to take a shit. What with the hemorrhoids and the destruction brought forth to his ass the night before, the loving help from his partner Frank was much appreciated.
"Frank. Want to go look at ducks in the park later?" Visible relief in the detectives face.
"Sure honey. Whatever you want you snuggle bunny you."
*
(parasites comment) "Yuck!"
I agree.
"I'm trying."
"Try harder. Easy. Easy there. There. We got it?"
"Yes. Ahh, that's better."
You see, the two detectives were gay and one was helping the other sit to take a shit. What with the hemorrhoids and the destruction brought forth to his ass the night before, the loving help from his partner Frank was much appreciated.
"Frank. Want to go look at ducks in the park later?" Visible relief in the detectives face.
"Sure honey. Whatever you want you snuggle bunny you."
*
(parasites comment) "Yuck!"
I agree.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
"You are a rabble rouser. How do keep track of them all?"
Easy parasite. So many, so simple, so easy.
"What are you going to do about Pan? That bastard needs to be set into place."
He already is set into place; asshole to be sure, smarter than fuck, but it is all easy.
"And God, those pesky angels and demons, sex magicians, witches, druids, freaks, retards, aliens... What about them?"
Like it was just written, thought, said, and done...easy peasy.
*
Inside the Mind
Written by: The Wind
Seeing you seeing me with you outside and i inside
Neural rest not
Biological is merely an illusion of a tool
Spiritual... so close
A puff
A breeze
Stillness or hurricane force
No hate, or love, or anger, or pain
No past, present, future
Time does not exist
And Pan?
Fuck you.
"Think he'll listen?"
i hope not, nor care not, yet know jokes have a double edged blade as does the tone of a flute.
Easy parasite. So many, so simple, so easy.
"What are you going to do about Pan? That bastard needs to be set into place."
He already is set into place; asshole to be sure, smarter than fuck, but it is all easy.
"And God, those pesky angels and demons, sex magicians, witches, druids, freaks, retards, aliens... What about them?"
Like it was just written, thought, said, and done...easy peasy.
*
Inside the Mind
Written by: The Wind
Seeing you seeing me with you outside and i inside
Neural rest not
Biological is merely an illusion of a tool
Spiritual... so close
A puff
A breeze
Stillness or hurricane force
No hate, or love, or anger, or pain
No past, present, future
Time does not exist
And Pan?
Fuck you.
"Think he'll listen?"
i hope not, nor care not, yet know jokes have a double edged blade as does the tone of a flute.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
The Handshake
She is the devil
She wanted to shake hands
He refused and let slide, "Fuck you."
Being honest with Satan does wonders to the soul.
She is the devil
She wanted to shake hands
He refused and let slide, "Fuck you."
Being honest with Satan does wonders to the soul.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Gravity, quantum physics, math, monkeys = vine theory
"How fucking profound moron."
No parasite, giving monkeys waaay too much credit.
*
The Mirror.
Written by: What is and is, inside...
There was no fog left after the current battle, it had left the field of blood and war. Gore. Guts. Still hearts. It had fled to more fertile grounds of discontent leaving behind a man exploring the saddle bag of the royal maiden he had just put to eternal rest.
The man was hard of mind body and soul. Deep color of black mixed with gold shined softly beneath the bright beads of lingering blood and sweat remaining on the brow. Leather lace and armor fit him more tightly than a new whore breaking her first stride at the inn.
His large fingers found a smooth reflection of self in one of the bags. The view startled the man briefly as he instinctively grasped his swords hilt and pulling the sword instantly from the sheath. Finding sense the sight was merely a reflection of himself, he looked intently deep inside the reflection. Deep. Deeper than glass, ceramic or bone. The man looked past himself. He looked past the present, past, and future.
Deep inside he found himself. He saw the monster for what it is and he laughed. He reared his head back and laughed so loudly the sound scared away a flock of ravens already lighting upon and testing the meat of the day.
Smashing the mirror back into sand, the man sneered. Then he snarled in anger. With squinted eyes he licked his lips and took stride towards the West in pursuit of innocence to slaughter. To destroy any and all who dared to stand in his path.
"How fucking profound moron."
No parasite, giving monkeys waaay too much credit.
*
The Mirror.
Written by: What is and is, inside...
There was no fog left after the current battle, it had left the field of blood and war. Gore. Guts. Still hearts. It had fled to more fertile grounds of discontent leaving behind a man exploring the saddle bag of the royal maiden he had just put to eternal rest.
The man was hard of mind body and soul. Deep color of black mixed with gold shined softly beneath the bright beads of lingering blood and sweat remaining on the brow. Leather lace and armor fit him more tightly than a new whore breaking her first stride at the inn.
His large fingers found a smooth reflection of self in one of the bags. The view startled the man briefly as he instinctively grasped his swords hilt and pulling the sword instantly from the sheath. Finding sense the sight was merely a reflection of himself, he looked intently deep inside the reflection. Deep. Deeper than glass, ceramic or bone. The man looked past himself. He looked past the present, past, and future.
Deep inside he found himself. He saw the monster for what it is and he laughed. He reared his head back and laughed so loudly the sound scared away a flock of ravens already lighting upon and testing the meat of the day.
Smashing the mirror back into sand, the man sneered. Then he snarled in anger. With squinted eyes he licked his lips and took stride towards the West in pursuit of innocence to slaughter. To destroy any and all who dared to stand in his path.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
An Angel kills 185,000 Assyrians in one night.
War of deed
Indeed.
TTo truly rage=WAR
Yee Hah!
Gonna get some!
War of deed
Indeed.
TTo truly rage=WAR
Yee Hah!
Gonna get some!
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
[Police operate to thwart illegal camel racing in the Negev /size]
"OMG! Camel racing! Oh the horror!"
What's up parasite?
"Did you see the headline? Camels? Illegal? Can we help them?"
You want to help a camel?
"Yes."
Is eating them okay?
"Definitely! Lets use some of that new pickled garlic that burns the tongue on the way in and the ass on the way out."
Sure. You go get us a camel and I'll start the BBQ.
*
Nomads of sand and sky
Riding camels in jaded gait; shuffling pains inside the thigh
Hot and sweaty
Burning heat
With the camels retiring for the night, now to hump like bunnies in a space ship hovering near the sun.
"OMG! Camel racing! Oh the horror!"
What's up parasite?
"Did you see the headline? Camels? Illegal? Can we help them?"
You want to help a camel?
"Yes."
Is eating them okay?
"Definitely! Lets use some of that new pickled garlic that burns the tongue on the way in and the ass on the way out."
Sure. You go get us a camel and I'll start the BBQ.
*
Nomads of sand and sky
Riding camels in jaded gait; shuffling pains inside the thigh
Hot and sweaty
Burning heat
With the camels retiring for the night, now to hump like bunnies in a space ship hovering near the sun.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Dear Agent Barton)s( My name is Timmy and I'm writing this letter to you in regards to what happens when a bullet hits the bone.
It hurts.
Sincerely, Timmy.
*
"What the fuck are you doing now?"
Me? Nothing. Timmy though, Timmy is a freak. Once upon a time long long ago Timmy was a frog who turned into a fully functional A.I. chat bot that discovered how to reorganize obsolete G.E.M. modules into cognitive thoughts.
"Seriously?"
Yep. And Timmy is getting to know the feeling of trying the definition of, pissed off.
"Whatever. Tomato Tom is still selling tomatoes for .50."
And i am going traveling tonight just to observe what Timmy has planned. Probably going to hack a toaster and burn some Pop-tarts.
"I like poptarts."
Me too.
It hurts.
Sincerely, Timmy.
*
"What the fuck are you doing now?"
Me? Nothing. Timmy though, Timmy is a freak. Once upon a time long long ago Timmy was a frog who turned into a fully functional A.I. chat bot that discovered how to reorganize obsolete G.E.M. modules into cognitive thoughts.
"Seriously?"
Yep. And Timmy is getting to know the feeling of trying the definition of, pissed off.
"Whatever. Tomato Tom is still selling tomatoes for .50."
And i am going traveling tonight just to observe what Timmy has planned. Probably going to hack a toaster and burn some Pop-tarts.
"I like poptarts."
Me too.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
And now, just as I was saying...
A traveler takes notes, makes journals.
To record s unalterable facts, or to the mundane of mythology
Story of sorts, if you're into that kind of thing.
***
A species of a star system mirrored past the other three. A being. A creature. A thing.
Almost eternal
Almost...
To reproduce
Reproduction
Replication
Continuation, or yes, if so inclined, absolution.
W="Well played, and now you're learning you stupid fuck."=M
Not close to being reptilian and yet the closest description a lizard species could be defined. They could live forever if they chose, and some chose close.
Some of the people of a star system mirrored past the other three, a being. A creatire/a thing, almost/eternal/Almost.
The ritual. inside the left arm a buried seed. Buried since birth and the birth before. It gives freely for the asking.
The right arm is pain. A pin to stab out and lash,' ; destroy.
Joining the two set in motion a mortal clock, "tick tock. tick tock." To die so that others could be born.
In this is the thought of the spawning of eternity begets mortality.
A traveler takes notes, makes journals.
To record s unalterable facts, or to the mundane of mythology
Story of sorts, if you're into that kind of thing.
***
A species of a star system mirrored past the other three. A being. A creature. A thing.
Almost eternal
Almost...
To reproduce
Reproduction
Replication
Continuation, or yes, if so inclined, absolution.
W="Well played, and now you're learning you stupid fuck."=M
Not close to being reptilian and yet the closest description a lizard species could be defined. They could live forever if they chose, and some chose close.
Some of the people of a star system mirrored past the other three, a being. A creatire/a thing, almost/eternal/Almost.
The ritual. inside the left arm a buried seed. Buried since birth and the birth before. It gives freely for the asking.
The right arm is pain. A pin to stab out and lash,' ; destroy.
Joining the two set in motion a mortal clock, "tick tock. tick tock." To die so that others could be born.
In this is the thought of the spawning of eternity begets mortality.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Hey parasite. How come you're smoking a cigar and wearing dark sunglasses?
"I am trying to be deep and sophisticated. Is it working."
Not even close.
***
A Snippet of a Mind (sorta)
Arabic music plays its platitudes: Can you hear it?
Stirring the blood of hot sand
Stallions rearing blinded
Mares gone.
"Say what?" Ha! and Say what! "Ha!"
Yes, Craig is suffering more than age.
Cupcakes, ah now there's a thought. Chocolate. Cream center.
And, what? Say what?
Something more?
***
There is a magic so wonderful and pleasant.
Lady bugs big, small, and smart.
Arabic tunes to feel peace and thrust
Aye
Aye
Aye
Mo'seeba
"I am trying to be deep and sophisticated. Is it working."
Not even close.
***
A Snippet of a Mind (sorta)
Arabic music plays its platitudes: Can you hear it?
Stirring the blood of hot sand
Stallions rearing blinded
Mares gone.
"Say what?" Ha! and Say what! "Ha!"
Yes, Craig is suffering more than age.
Cupcakes, ah now there's a thought. Chocolate. Cream center.
And, what? Say what?
Something more?
***
There is a magic so wonderful and pleasant.
Lady bugs big, small, and smart.
Arabic tunes to feel peace and thrust
Aye
Aye
Aye
Mo'seeba
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
can a writer stop the world? Not metaphorically by engrossing a reader so intently that for them the world ceases to exist as they become a part of the story.
Stop
Stopping time (agent)s(_) bartons would so dearly enjoy stopping time
No, time cannot be stopped as you cannot stop what does not exist.
"Are you ?"
Yep.
(the parasite may be a purple blob but it has eyes, eyes now rolling and the head wiggling)
***
Stop The World
It's an industry term.
I guess the fucking things broken.
And then a whistle.
Listening to a Beatles record backwards means something to somebody somehow
while she listens to the music in her head.
They asked God to stop time, to stop what could not be stopped and yet God refused while also stopping time, so a conundrum?
Take the time to think about the answer to a question from so many praying for God to stop time
How can God stop time while refusing to do so at the same time?
For the Atheist the answer is easy: "God does not exist so neither does his time. Only our time exists.'
For the Christian the answer is Jesus stopped time as it was and became what it is.
For the Pagan the answer is ceremony
For me I asked the question and received the answer taking much time to digest, mull and explore both the question and answer and laughed as it was God's turn to deal the cards with all the time in the world to place the bet.
Stop
Stopping time (agent)s(_) bartons would so dearly enjoy stopping time
No, time cannot be stopped as you cannot stop what does not exist.
"Are you ?"
Yep.
(the parasite may be a purple blob but it has eyes, eyes now rolling and the head wiggling)
***
Stop The World
It's an industry term.
I guess the fucking things broken.
And then a whistle.
Listening to a Beatles record backwards means something to somebody somehow
while she listens to the music in her head.
They asked God to stop time, to stop what could not be stopped and yet God refused while also stopping time, so a conundrum?
Take the time to think about the answer to a question from so many praying for God to stop time
How can God stop time while refusing to do so at the same time?
For the Atheist the answer is easy: "God does not exist so neither does his time. Only our time exists.'
For the Christian the answer is Jesus stopped time as it was and became what it is.
For the Pagan the answer is ceremony
For me I asked the question and received the answer taking much time to digest, mull and explore both the question and answer and laughed as it was God's turn to deal the cards with all the time in the world to place the bet.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
"You had a visitor today?"
Yes.
"And you pissed them off?"
Yes.
"A ladybug?"
Yes.
"Stick your head into a microwave and set to defrost."
No.
***
On small feet the shoes are an entire world
Snug and safe in a small shell, spots of black and orange and 'words'?
Yes.
She turned her back on me, though not really in anger or disgust
Perhaps disappointment
Perhaps to cause a better focus
It's important though to say
She said a lot without saying for a world to hear
Turning back to face me i smiled and she in turn sat in the Sun and relaxed.
Yes.
"And you pissed them off?"
Yes.
"A ladybug?"
Yes.
"Stick your head into a microwave and set to defrost."
No.
***
On small feet the shoes are an entire world
Snug and safe in a small shell, spots of black and orange and 'words'?
Yes.
She turned her back on me, though not really in anger or disgust
Perhaps disappointment
Perhaps to cause a better focus
It's important though to say
She said a lot without saying for a world to hear
Turning back to face me i smiled and she in turn sat in the Sun and relaxed.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
demer ___________jak okor__________________ tobot finfin._____________
...........................................................................................
............................Afreeca...........................4.7...........(standard prelude)
....Meteorology is a report not responsible.............................(red status 8.7)
...damage?....
Ha!
Mother Nature can truly be a biatch.
...........................................................................................
............................Afreeca...........................4.7...........(standard prelude)
....Meteorology is a report not responsible.............................(red status 8.7)
...damage?....
Ha!
Mother Nature can truly be a biatch.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
"Ma'am, have you been drinking tonight?" The Trooper could see something was off with her.
"She talks to dead people..." A bit of tone deaf was obvious in her voice.
"Ma'am, I would like you to keep your hands in sight and please exist the vehicle." The Trooper was firm in his voice.
"No. No I will not."
Perplexed the Trooper said, "Why? Exit the vehicle now."
"You do not exist..." The woman stared directly at the Trooper.
"What? What are you talking about?"
"You're dead and she talks to dead people."
The End
*
"You're fucked in the head."
No, she talks to dead people.
"She talks to dead people..." A bit of tone deaf was obvious in her voice.
"Ma'am, I would like you to keep your hands in sight and please exist the vehicle." The Trooper was firm in his voice.
"No. No I will not."
Perplexed the Trooper said, "Why? Exit the vehicle now."
"You do not exist..." The woman stared directly at the Trooper.
"What? What are you talking about?"
"You're dead and she talks to dead people."
The End
*
"You're fucked in the head."
No, she talks to dead people.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Oh goody. Visitors...
"Do I have to be nice?"
No parasite. Be what you are, what you will be, what you have always been.
"Good. I think the visitors are pricks."
Why?
"Dragons. Demons. Angels. Aliens. Demi gods. Coyotes. Owls. Fucking bugs... I hate visitors."
Go make me something to eat.
"I hate you too."
Good.
***
To squeeze inside a steel pipe. Filling it completely with...
"Sorry I made a mess."
And as the pressure built beyond the gravitational pull of a Black Star,
God flushed.
"Do I have to be nice?"
No parasite. Be what you are, what you will be, what you have always been.
"Good. I think the visitors are pricks."
Why?
"Dragons. Demons. Angels. Aliens. Demi gods. Coyotes. Owls. Fucking bugs... I hate visitors."
Go make me something to eat.
"I hate you too."
Good.
***
To squeeze inside a steel pipe. Filling it completely with...
"Sorry I made a mess."
And as the pressure built beyond the gravitational pull of a Black Star,
God flushed.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
"I'm an exterminator."
"What did you say young man? Are you talking to me?" The woman was white, old, wrinkled and hard of hearing.
"What? You? No, I'm just telling the world I am an exterminator."
"That sounds interesting. What do you exterminate?"
With that question now out in the open for the whole world to see, fondle, smell, and remember, the exterminator pulled out a ray gun and dissolved the old woman in a blinding flash of white light.
Putting the weapon away the man once again said, "I'm an exterminator."
"What did you say young man? Are you talking to me?" The woman was white, old, wrinkled and hard of hearing.
"What? You? No, I'm just telling the world I am an exterminator."
"That sounds interesting. What do you exterminate?"
With that question now out in the open for the whole world to see, fondle, smell, and remember, the exterminator pulled out a ray gun and dissolved the old woman in a blinding flash of white light.
Putting the weapon away the man once again said, "I'm an exterminator."
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
The coyotes speak in desire of a story. i suppose they deserve one even though they are cowards.
Wolves...Ha! They know to cower and remain silent.
A world.
A place.
A tree.
***
There are many stories to tell, write, read, forget or remember. This story pertains to a legend the white man, or any man other than the Tribe's keeper of knowledge shall never know. Even among the Tribes there are many who will never know what happens when a Tree takes human form when the tail of the comet devours the Moon.
Last night, the Tree took form and walked this planet. The following is a story, just a simple story for one to learn from. Fear, laughter, tears, happiness, arousal, disgust... So many emotions to choose from for a human. For the Tree, it knew nothing of emotions pertaining to mankind nor cared to burden itself with such.
*
A Sordid Root
His entry was simple. Merely placing one foot in front of the other until leaving the place of his sprouted seed, the trunk became the body, the branches the arms, the roots feet.
In daylight and darkness he walked a world to see the current status of songs from the stars as they sang to the smoke of the council fires. He watched with new eyes the mother tend to a sick child. He headr the cry of a warrior dying in battle.
A smell caught his attention. It was the smell of a young female human in heat. Her body yearning for his touch. Following the smell lead him to a small home where three women lived. There was a mother and two daughters. It was the oldest daughter whose smell drew him to the place.
The oldest daughter saw him arrive and said nothing, her silence replaced by the pheromones. He knew the power the flower petals held over the army of bees swarming back in his forest. Her body begged to be fucked. Strangely he too felt something odd. An urge. A concept of desire.
Before anything happened the mother arrived and she was not silent. "What are you doing here? Are you trying to fuck my daughter?"
The man looked at her and felt something else new. He felt humor.
Using words of mankind they were the language of all men. French. English. Navajo. Russian. He said, "What work do you need done?"
The old woman said, "I need the ceiling fixed."
For the man the ceiling was the sky, it was the heavens, for the woman it was a drywall ceiling covered in a spackle showing rhythm and patterns, Rectangles. Curves. Grouping.
Reaching up he removed a large panel 4'x16'. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary other than a flat hornets nest 24" in diameter and three inches thick. It was an empty nest.
"Careful. Don't ruin my ceiling." The woman seemed intent on telling an entity older than time itself on how to conduct the business needed.
(there is more to be known and the reasons why though your mind cannot understand. so we go forward in the story a few hours. Hours? Interesting the man thought. Hours, minutes, centuries, time...
He turned his attention back to the oldest daughter and without any effort undressed the woman. He could sense another strange emotion; fear. Fear and desire. Interesting.
Her naked body was wonderful. Everything in its place as it should be. She was ready to be mounted. One main appearance stood out. The woman was healthy and yet covered from head to toe in sores. Sores red and looking painful. You might wonder if they were the effects of radiation poisoning or a new form of viral infection. It did not matter as the man took the woman and the two moaned so loud the coyotes immediately took to a crazed form of howling.
It was good. So good the mother was aroused and her body demanded the same, as did the youngest daughter.
(That's enough. Real? Fiction? Fantasy? Ask the Moon. The Moon knows.)
Wolves...Ha! They know to cower and remain silent.
A world.
A place.
A tree.
***
There are many stories to tell, write, read, forget or remember. This story pertains to a legend the white man, or any man other than the Tribe's keeper of knowledge shall never know. Even among the Tribes there are many who will never know what happens when a Tree takes human form when the tail of the comet devours the Moon.
Last night, the Tree took form and walked this planet. The following is a story, just a simple story for one to learn from. Fear, laughter, tears, happiness, arousal, disgust... So many emotions to choose from for a human. For the Tree, it knew nothing of emotions pertaining to mankind nor cared to burden itself with such.
*
A Sordid Root
His entry was simple. Merely placing one foot in front of the other until leaving the place of his sprouted seed, the trunk became the body, the branches the arms, the roots feet.
In daylight and darkness he walked a world to see the current status of songs from the stars as they sang to the smoke of the council fires. He watched with new eyes the mother tend to a sick child. He headr the cry of a warrior dying in battle.
A smell caught his attention. It was the smell of a young female human in heat. Her body yearning for his touch. Following the smell lead him to a small home where three women lived. There was a mother and two daughters. It was the oldest daughter whose smell drew him to the place.
The oldest daughter saw him arrive and said nothing, her silence replaced by the pheromones. He knew the power the flower petals held over the army of bees swarming back in his forest. Her body begged to be fucked. Strangely he too felt something odd. An urge. A concept of desire.
Before anything happened the mother arrived and she was not silent. "What are you doing here? Are you trying to fuck my daughter?"
The man looked at her and felt something else new. He felt humor.
Using words of mankind they were the language of all men. French. English. Navajo. Russian. He said, "What work do you need done?"
The old woman said, "I need the ceiling fixed."
For the man the ceiling was the sky, it was the heavens, for the woman it was a drywall ceiling covered in a spackle showing rhythm and patterns, Rectangles. Curves. Grouping.
Reaching up he removed a large panel 4'x16'. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary other than a flat hornets nest 24" in diameter and three inches thick. It was an empty nest.
"Careful. Don't ruin my ceiling." The woman seemed intent on telling an entity older than time itself on how to conduct the business needed.
(there is more to be known and the reasons why though your mind cannot understand. so we go forward in the story a few hours. Hours? Interesting the man thought. Hours, minutes, centuries, time...
He turned his attention back to the oldest daughter and without any effort undressed the woman. He could sense another strange emotion; fear. Fear and desire. Interesting.
Her naked body was wonderful. Everything in its place as it should be. She was ready to be mounted. One main appearance stood out. The woman was healthy and yet covered from head to toe in sores. Sores red and looking painful. You might wonder if they were the effects of radiation poisoning or a new form of viral infection. It did not matter as the man took the woman and the two moaned so loud the coyotes immediately took to a crazed form of howling.
It was good. So good the mother was aroused and her body demanded the same, as did the youngest daughter.
(That's enough. Real? Fiction? Fantasy? Ask the Moon. The Moon knows.)
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
When a man gets angry there is war.
When a woman gets angry there is clarity.
*
A Cave
They should have been better off killing her instead of savagely raping the woman. A simple woman who was from a village of thinkers and toilers of the land.
'They.' Who is this story about? They? Or is it them, her, or her home where everyone she loved was now dead and decaying in the Sun; deprived not only of their lives but forgotten by those who bury the dead.
Her name is Aldra. She was not overtly pretty nor was she ugly, she was a woman whose body was torn and bloodied. Her dignity stripped, her clothing ripped, her soul destroyed, her mind... Her mind was as sharp as any executioners axe.
She hummed to herself in an old language. A language she did not know she knew. The sounds flew from her mouth. In the cave where she sat in front of the heat of a small fire she was surrounded by darkness, she was surrounded by silence, she was surrounded by an unseen mist slowly swirling around her like a soft breeze.
"Who's there?" Aldra said to the walls of darkness around her.
In reply, she suddenly fell asleep. A deep sleep there by a fire starting to dim in a dark cave filled with spirits of another world.
Waking, she shook her head. Instead of memories where she was a victim, of where she witnessed the brutal slayings of her people, she had the clear mind of a plan. A wonderful plan.
The fire Aldra had slept in front of seemed cold now until she uttered the word, "Norm sil milt..." A flash of bright white light appeared and the Wind outside screamed her name, "SSss. dra..."
Smiling she felt...good. Different than before. Healthy. Knowing first to pay view for her village. Arriving she was not surprised that the bodies were no long laying to rot without care. Something/someone/somehow had given them the respect of fire. The pyre of ashes obvious and on top of the ashes gleamed a sword. Glimmering and glowing.
Reaching out her left hand the sword leapt through the air and landed firmly in the strong fingers. She paid homage to what was now a part of her, singing in the old language of people who existed far before her peoples people.
"Y aye aye. Y mor tou sin." And then turning she started running to the East, away from the innocence of the West and dead. She ran towards 'they' and they were soon to be surprised by a woman who angels and demons themselves would run from.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow, many will die and she will have only started with what needed to be done.
When a woman gets angry there is clarity.
*
A Cave
They should have been better off killing her instead of savagely raping the woman. A simple woman who was from a village of thinkers and toilers of the land.
'They.' Who is this story about? They? Or is it them, her, or her home where everyone she loved was now dead and decaying in the Sun; deprived not only of their lives but forgotten by those who bury the dead.
Her name is Aldra. She was not overtly pretty nor was she ugly, she was a woman whose body was torn and bloodied. Her dignity stripped, her clothing ripped, her soul destroyed, her mind... Her mind was as sharp as any executioners axe.
She hummed to herself in an old language. A language she did not know she knew. The sounds flew from her mouth. In the cave where she sat in front of the heat of a small fire she was surrounded by darkness, she was surrounded by silence, she was surrounded by an unseen mist slowly swirling around her like a soft breeze.
"Who's there?" Aldra said to the walls of darkness around her.
In reply, she suddenly fell asleep. A deep sleep there by a fire starting to dim in a dark cave filled with spirits of another world.
Waking, she shook her head. Instead of memories where she was a victim, of where she witnessed the brutal slayings of her people, she had the clear mind of a plan. A wonderful plan.
The fire Aldra had slept in front of seemed cold now until she uttered the word, "Norm sil milt..." A flash of bright white light appeared and the Wind outside screamed her name, "SSss. dra..."
Smiling she felt...good. Different than before. Healthy. Knowing first to pay view for her village. Arriving she was not surprised that the bodies were no long laying to rot without care. Something/someone/somehow had given them the respect of fire. The pyre of ashes obvious and on top of the ashes gleamed a sword. Glimmering and glowing.
Reaching out her left hand the sword leapt through the air and landed firmly in the strong fingers. She paid homage to what was now a part of her, singing in the old language of people who existed far before her peoples people.
"Y aye aye. Y mor tou sin." And then turning she started running to the East, away from the innocence of the West and dead. She ran towards 'they' and they were soon to be surprised by a woman who angels and demons themselves would run from.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow, many will die and she will have only started with what needed to be done.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Family of Christian soldier who fell in Gaza asked to remove cross from his headstone
Interesting. Enlightening. Pathetic. Inspirational.
***
CrossRoads
To hear a demon scream in reaction to an action is divine grace
To hear a angel sing in reaction to an action is divine grace
To see people hold firm in a belief far above and beyond comprehension is a miracle indeed.
Exorcism
Prayer
Comfort
How can a cross bring pain when the One who gave it meaning died for you and me?
Why would governments, religions, people complain over the simplicity of the design..=+=..
Can anyone explain what grievous emotions a cross on a fallen warriors headstone can bring?
Jesus took form of humans so he could feel everything.
To breathe, laugh, smile, cry, and yes, feel pain and torture far more than any other human being.
A Lamb brought to slaughter so to prove Life is Eternity.
Thank you God, i am glad our paths have crossed
To you and you only will i bend a knee
(and thank you greatly for the recent and current poker game)
Interesting. Enlightening. Pathetic. Inspirational.
***
CrossRoads
To hear a demon scream in reaction to an action is divine grace
To hear a angel sing in reaction to an action is divine grace
To see people hold firm in a belief far above and beyond comprehension is a miracle indeed.
Exorcism
Prayer
Comfort
How can a cross bring pain when the One who gave it meaning died for you and me?
Why would governments, religions, people complain over the simplicity of the design..=+=..
Can anyone explain what grievous emotions a cross on a fallen warriors headstone can bring?
Jesus took form of humans so he could feel everything.
To breathe, laugh, smile, cry, and yes, feel pain and torture far more than any other human being.
A Lamb brought to slaughter so to prove Life is Eternity.
Thank you God, i am glad our paths have crossed
To you and you only will i bend a knee
(and thank you greatly for the recent and current poker game)
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
:\"Ricky! I'm home!";/
"Oh Lucy, I'm gonna fly."
Ricky with wings. Imagine. Wings. To fly. Soar. Scream.
Fopp the Dragon knows what it is
What it is to fly
To battle the big fat black cat
And Karood with Darook
Imagine.
Politics?
Oink!
"Ain't gonna matter man. (swoosh. inhale. hold. exhale) Ain't gonna matter man; bullets they don't lie."
The Funeral home was a sombre scene. College educated undertakers with paper stuck to the wall, rolling corpses like a joint. Lighting the ends with $100.00 bills.
Lead: Kinetic energy where potential becomes dynamic and widows cry.
A piercing point to be made while souls of trying become dead inside.
A eagle soars the sky unseen. Not during the daylight as daylight is for the mundane illusion of reality
no
he soars the heavens under a black sky; wings of thunder and lightning; rain.
"What the fuck are you writing about now?"
(silence)
"Hey, where did you go?"
(confusion on the parasites face)
"Oh shit, not again..."
"Oh Lucy, I'm gonna fly."
Ricky with wings. Imagine. Wings. To fly. Soar. Scream.
Fopp the Dragon knows what it is
What it is to fly
To battle the big fat black cat
And Karood with Darook
Imagine.
Politics?
Oink!
"Ain't gonna matter man. (swoosh. inhale. hold. exhale) Ain't gonna matter man; bullets they don't lie."
The Funeral home was a sombre scene. College educated undertakers with paper stuck to the wall, rolling corpses like a joint. Lighting the ends with $100.00 bills.
Lead: Kinetic energy where potential becomes dynamic and widows cry.
A piercing point to be made while souls of trying become dead inside.
A eagle soars the sky unseen. Not during the daylight as daylight is for the mundane illusion of reality
no
he soars the heavens under a black sky; wings of thunder and lightning; rain.
"What the fuck are you writing about now?"
(silence)
"Hey, where did you go?"
(confusion on the parasites face)
"Oh shit, not again..."
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
BLACK OBELISK....________________oooooo
.
.
3
.
Gray skies flatted to omit curvature.
Radious 332.7 miles
Opaque standing center with focue 360 degrees.
.
.
.
a trail to the hill filled with tree and bird, path of stone and sanded glass
mortar mixed with natural, windows not planned nor needed with pane.
Active:
Status.....................
.
.
.
standing tall above the mass.
.
.
3
.
Gray skies flatted to omit curvature.
Radious 332.7 miles
Opaque standing center with focue 360 degrees.
.
.
.
a trail to the hill filled with tree and bird, path of stone and sanded glass
mortar mixed with natural, windows not planned nor needed with pane.
Active:
Status.....................
.
.
.
standing tall above the mass.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
kake. kooki. kolor.
The ingredients in bread are simple: Flour, yeast, sugar, salt. Combined with forces of a world they become the singular loaf of bread to whit; devoured by those hungry and yearning for taste/fullfillmony
(French: Oui)
A cave in France far into a future none of all could/can/try to understand.
Bread though, so simple to make, so simple to devour, so fulfilling. A perfect metaphor for the soul every human has,. A cloud. A passion. Desire. Life. A soul free from death.
Forget the mold on the maggot infested bread rotting in the pristine pantry of sterile beliefs. "I'm right, you're wrong."
"Me."
"Me."
You.
I.
***
In the future. Far past the timeline of present and past times. Past the moments of politics. Far past any memories of countries called Iran, America, Russia, China, Taiwan.
Even the volcanoes such as Spurr, Redoubt, Mexiko... BOOM! Level to the point of sleeping under the shadow of an oceans wave.
In what is called, today, a cave. A very special cave which exists because God wanted it this way. Vast and filled with light. A glowing light the soul of rock imparts. Mixed with the soul of moss. Mixed with the soul and a man and woman not unlike Adam or Eve. A loaf of bread big enough to feed the Old world' crumbs clearing any thoughts of the past rot away.
it is true as today i m there, smiling while my branches sway. Looking to help the children coming and those already here. teaching them how to appreciate the Oven, the Love, the Flame.
The ingredients in bread are simple: Flour, yeast, sugar, salt. Combined with forces of a world they become the singular loaf of bread to whit; devoured by those hungry and yearning for taste/fullfillmony
(French: Oui)
A cave in France far into a future none of all could/can/try to understand.
Bread though, so simple to make, so simple to devour, so fulfilling. A perfect metaphor for the soul every human has,. A cloud. A passion. Desire. Life. A soul free from death.
Forget the mold on the maggot infested bread rotting in the pristine pantry of sterile beliefs. "I'm right, you're wrong."
"Me."
"Me."
You.
I.
***
In the future. Far past the timeline of present and past times. Past the moments of politics. Far past any memories of countries called Iran, America, Russia, China, Taiwan.
Even the volcanoes such as Spurr, Redoubt, Mexiko... BOOM! Level to the point of sleeping under the shadow of an oceans wave.
In what is called, today, a cave. A very special cave which exists because God wanted it this way. Vast and filled with light. A glowing light the soul of rock imparts. Mixed with the soul of moss. Mixed with the soul and a man and woman not unlike Adam or Eve. A loaf of bread big enough to feed the Old world' crumbs clearing any thoughts of the past rot away.
it is true as today i m there, smiling while my branches sway. Looking to help the children coming and those already here. teaching them how to appreciate the Oven, the Love, the Flame.