"You are a mule. A true mule named, dork."
Haven't heard the word, dork, for awhile. Good job.
"You really can't help it can you? Just have to be a complete ass."
That's a good statement parasite. Torn this way and that. Shaken up and down. Filled with what Spock would call, emotions. Strangely, it feels good. Dancing motors. Tracks. Songs. Calls. Statements. Fact. And of course that dream...always the dream.
"Hey! Here's an idea. Why don't you fill a five gallon bucket with water and stick your head into it for about five minutes."
It won't work parasite. Breathing underwater is easy as sitting in the middle of the sun.
***
It is Love
How it comes to be is strange much like it is meant to be
It is always there and constant, like a hunger for cheese, chocolate, pizza, and bbq chicken
I wonder why it is?
Why did it happen to be?
It may seem to disappoint, to seem horrible, but it never does
It can only be stated with certainty...
Never will it cease or flee
and how can it be?
(sigh)
the answer is: i love it as much as before and after. as it is always a part of
me.
Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Moderator: Editors
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
"Nonsense. Don't do it. They are unable to understand."
Oh yes they do. Each and every one of them understand the choices presented, thought over, and then taken.
"Just let them go extinct. That is the perfect choice for them. Kill em all and let god sort them out..."
That's fine while being a Centurion, grunt, barbarian, or any other professional/brain washed killer, but not for what is needed...
***
War of Time
Tick Tock
Tick Tock
Tick Tock...
A children's rhyme of bullet/bomb staccato
Rip the children from the womb
Desecrate all that is holy
Rape
Murder
Mutilate
Torture
while in a meadow far before Time and After, a scene of peace where a lamb drinks next to a lion and birds sing songs of heaven.
Who do they think sharpens the Sword of God?
Why does Jesus die on a cross for those so full of corruption?
Tick Tock
Tick Tock
Tick Tock...
There is no balance on the scales between evil and action
There is no blindness from goodness
Which orders are best?
To destroy?
To create?
The best orders are those having nothing to do
with humans.
Oh yes they do. Each and every one of them understand the choices presented, thought over, and then taken.
"Just let them go extinct. That is the perfect choice for them. Kill em all and let god sort them out..."
That's fine while being a Centurion, grunt, barbarian, or any other professional/brain washed killer, but not for what is needed...
***
War of Time
Tick Tock
Tick Tock
Tick Tock...
A children's rhyme of bullet/bomb staccato
Rip the children from the womb
Desecrate all that is holy
Rape
Murder
Mutilate
Torture
while in a meadow far before Time and After, a scene of peace where a lamb drinks next to a lion and birds sing songs of heaven.
Who do they think sharpens the Sword of God?
Why does Jesus die on a cross for those so full of corruption?
Tick Tock
Tick Tock
Tick Tock...
There is no balance on the scales between evil and action
There is no blindness from goodness
Which orders are best?
To destroy?
To create?
The best orders are those having nothing to do
with humans.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
"You are one lucky bastard."
You should have said, 'one lucky son of a bitch.'
"Yeah. Whatever. What are you going to do to celebrate?"
Easy. Gonna sip a flute of Siempre. Bottle #16621 Tequila. ..... ...... .. . Not bad.
***
Lucky
Feel a pain to avoid a bullet
Stumble so to rise quickly
Choke on indulgence to feel the thin moment of success.
There is more to luck, much more
than joy and bliss.
You should have said, 'one lucky son of a bitch.'
"Yeah. Whatever. What are you going to do to celebrate?"
Easy. Gonna sip a flute of Siempre. Bottle #16621 Tequila. ..... ...... .. . Not bad.
***
Lucky
Feel a pain to avoid a bullet
Stumble so to rise quickly
Choke on indulgence to feel the thin moment of success.
There is more to luck, much more
than joy and bliss.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
92 years old, she died in her sleep. nice.
And now, inspired by the reflection of a ghost in the window.
***
On the path so trodden
Blindly focused on a terminal light
Death follows those who stumble in determination.
Then than follows in full measure.
A glowing surface covering the rainbow
Straight and more true than the sun
He glided down
down
down
down
...
until nearing the end there was a massive stone wall
Soaring higher than the stars
..
.
Finding rest inside the heart of a mountain
turning stone into wood.
And now, inspired by the reflection of a ghost in the window.
***
On the path so trodden
Blindly focused on a terminal light
Death follows those who stumble in determination.
Then than follows in full measure.
A glowing surface covering the rainbow
Straight and more true than the sun
He glided down
down
down
down
...
until nearing the end there was a massive stone wall
Soaring higher than the stars
..
.
Finding rest inside the heart of a mountain
turning stone into wood.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
As for inspiration, ever the muse of blather and scheme.
A tit
A nipple
***
Paired perfection
Calculating the curvature to compared observations
Mindful of thoughts
Chemicals decide with heated actions to lead the choir of seduction
Strange to find the melting satisfactions
of ice
She lay asleep, secure in her peace
Moaning, her fingers traced a memory
Awake, feeling the travels of the frozen cube of ice
On the table, a rose
Clothing of day scattered upon a floor
In the air the smell of spice.
A tit
A nipple
***
Paired perfection
Calculating the curvature to compared observations
Mindful of thoughts
Chemicals decide with heated actions to lead the choir of seduction
Strange to find the melting satisfactions
of ice
She lay asleep, secure in her peace
Moaning, her fingers traced a memory
Awake, feeling the travels of the frozen cube of ice
On the table, a rose
Clothing of day scattered upon a floor
In the air the smell of spice.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
For many writers there is a yearning to write 'something' never written before. This is especially true for science fiction, fantasy, horror, fiction, and to some degree, non-fiction.
It is no secret of the many stories of cloning, replication, the multi-verse, parallel dimensions.
Loki is an example. The new Dead Pool movie is an example.
So, for tonight, some inspiration for one of you aspiring nerds desiring a topic to 'write' about. Has it been written about before? Ha! Doubtful...
***
A Sliver
Tom. Tom is his name. Common. Boring. His last name even more boring, Smith.
Tom Smith did not have religion. He was too busy to even think of being an atheist, let alone a fallen away Baptist, Jew, Muslim, or pagan. He had a boring job, a boring life, and he was not the kind of person who would make any woman swoon.
It was a boring evening. The moon a sliver in the sky following the boring selfishness of the bright sun glowing like it had just discovered light only hours earlier.
Walking with Tom was his boring dog named, Spot. Spot was a denutted mutt of some boring pedigree or another with spaniel kind of making a showing along with the potential of a lab participating in some past genetic hanky panky.
"Ooh! Look at that Spot, a fireball." Tom sounded excited as he glanced towards the dark sky to see a ball of disintegration and sparks.
"Woof! Woof! Bark!" Spot was excited at the sight also, along with the smells of another dog who had peed on a nearby tree.
The fireball quickly blew apart and a very small fragment landed on the ground near Tom and Spot.
"Wow. Look at this Spot. Careful now. Don't sniff it. It might be hot."
Spot was curious but now was more curious about a three legged squirrel chittering down at him from a tree. Why the squirrel only had three legs is far more exciting in story than what you've read so far.
The air around the fallen bit of space particle was blurry. It was not the clear sweet air that existed in great clarity the farther you got away from the site.
Suddenly Tom grasped his head with both hands and groaned. "Oh...Oh my. That hurts."
From the small bit of space rock a pulsing vibration caused the air to 'ripple'. It was this ripple which engulfed Tom fully while scaring the shit out of Spot and the squirrel, both who quickly exited the scene.
"I don't feel... well... I feel..." And then Tom fell to the ground in a dead faint.
Waking later Tom lay prone on the ground looking up at the sparkling stars. "Wow. What the fuck happened?"
Raising his head and looking around he saw many other 'Tom's' laying prone with their heads now raised and looking around just like he was.
All the 'Tom's' stood up. All of them looked in shock at each other. All of them had an evil grin forming on their faces. All of them attacked each other.
They ripped their boring clothing off and started to bite and chew the other Toms. Blood flowed. Flesh was torn. Every Tom was eating the other Tom. All except the original Tom who screamed and fled the scene.
Behind him was an orgy of killing as hundreds of naked and mutilated bodies attacked each other.
I suppose the reason why all the other Toms were killing each other is because even though they were absolutely identical to the original Tom in thoughts, clothing, language, memories... Everything down to the individual cells were identical... Maybe it was because Tom retained the soul. A unique possession only the gifted life form receives. Or maybe the original Tom was a boring vegetarian and didn't eat meat.
It is no secret of the many stories of cloning, replication, the multi-verse, parallel dimensions.
Loki is an example. The new Dead Pool movie is an example.
So, for tonight, some inspiration for one of you aspiring nerds desiring a topic to 'write' about. Has it been written about before? Ha! Doubtful...
***
A Sliver
Tom. Tom is his name. Common. Boring. His last name even more boring, Smith.
Tom Smith did not have religion. He was too busy to even think of being an atheist, let alone a fallen away Baptist, Jew, Muslim, or pagan. He had a boring job, a boring life, and he was not the kind of person who would make any woman swoon.
It was a boring evening. The moon a sliver in the sky following the boring selfishness of the bright sun glowing like it had just discovered light only hours earlier.
Walking with Tom was his boring dog named, Spot. Spot was a denutted mutt of some boring pedigree or another with spaniel kind of making a showing along with the potential of a lab participating in some past genetic hanky panky.
"Ooh! Look at that Spot, a fireball." Tom sounded excited as he glanced towards the dark sky to see a ball of disintegration and sparks.
"Woof! Woof! Bark!" Spot was excited at the sight also, along with the smells of another dog who had peed on a nearby tree.
The fireball quickly blew apart and a very small fragment landed on the ground near Tom and Spot.
"Wow. Look at this Spot. Careful now. Don't sniff it. It might be hot."
Spot was curious but now was more curious about a three legged squirrel chittering down at him from a tree. Why the squirrel only had three legs is far more exciting in story than what you've read so far.
The air around the fallen bit of space particle was blurry. It was not the clear sweet air that existed in great clarity the farther you got away from the site.
Suddenly Tom grasped his head with both hands and groaned. "Oh...Oh my. That hurts."
From the small bit of space rock a pulsing vibration caused the air to 'ripple'. It was this ripple which engulfed Tom fully while scaring the shit out of Spot and the squirrel, both who quickly exited the scene.
"I don't feel... well... I feel..." And then Tom fell to the ground in a dead faint.
Waking later Tom lay prone on the ground looking up at the sparkling stars. "Wow. What the fuck happened?"
Raising his head and looking around he saw many other 'Tom's' laying prone with their heads now raised and looking around just like he was.
All the 'Tom's' stood up. All of them looked in shock at each other. All of them had an evil grin forming on their faces. All of them attacked each other.
They ripped their boring clothing off and started to bite and chew the other Toms. Blood flowed. Flesh was torn. Every Tom was eating the other Tom. All except the original Tom who screamed and fled the scene.
Behind him was an orgy of killing as hundreds of naked and mutilated bodies attacked each other.
I suppose the reason why all the other Toms were killing each other is because even though they were absolutely identical to the original Tom in thoughts, clothing, language, memories... Everything down to the individual cells were identical... Maybe it was because Tom retained the soul. A unique possession only the gifted life form receives. Or maybe the original Tom was a boring vegetarian and didn't eat meat.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Many Americans’ cellphone data being hacked by China, official says
Spying. Very inspirational and an action as old as humanity.
"Look. Mongo use rock to bash coconut. Rock must be good," said by an early caveman spying on Mongo, the more advanced caveman of the moment.
China is no different though the cavemen of the past were more intelligent. Chinese culture of the past was much more dynamic than the China of today. In the past China had potential, today it is a culture of decadence (trying to mimic Western culture)and the stupidity of tying its identity with the culture of Communism. To identify with failure is not very productive so China needs to spy on others to include itself, which just fucks with many minds just pondering the stupidity of it all.
Thankfully China will be erased by nuclear radiation and natural disasters. The ashes of China will combine and become a nice vase once more in the years to come after the bombs fall.
Whee!
Spying. Very inspirational and an action as old as humanity.
"Look. Mongo use rock to bash coconut. Rock must be good," said by an early caveman spying on Mongo, the more advanced caveman of the moment.
China is no different though the cavemen of the past were more intelligent. Chinese culture of the past was much more dynamic than the China of today. In the past China had potential, today it is a culture of decadence (trying to mimic Western culture)and the stupidity of tying its identity with the culture of Communism. To identify with failure is not very productive so China needs to spy on others to include itself, which just fucks with many minds just pondering the stupidity of it all.
Thankfully China will be erased by nuclear radiation and natural disasters. The ashes of China will combine and become a nice vase once more in the years to come after the bombs fall.
Whee!
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Parasite. Wanna play a game?
"Does involve sharp knives and explosives?"
No. But that does sound fun. No, I'm talking about playing with some 'alien' technology.'
"That's the same thing ain't it? Last time we played an island sunk."
Atlantis?
"Did I say the name? You really are a retard."
Oh, yeah, Right. Sure. Lets play okay.
"Will we have ice cream afterwards?"
Like on Atlantis? They sure did make good ice cream.
***
(written for humans. i'd use crayons but words will have to do.)
Your ancestors, do you remember them?
Dad, mom, grandma, gramps?
Dig deeper than any recent cemetary
Back to cave and fondness for fire,
now can you see them?
Singing with eyes towards the stars
Smoke rising
Music in the blackness of a firelit night.
A bow and arrow
Axe of stone
A blur of your time until it saw the light
Thomas Edison
Ford
Tesla
Einstein
Even the TV repairman; technology to match the times.
Oh sure, everywhere around you there is the obvious matter of technology
A light bulb, microwave, cell phone, airplane, bicycle..
but did you see the rock?
In plain sight
Rocks
Tree's
and even birds...
Such powerful technology
Powerful
Powerful
All in view and all so easy to use.
"Does involve sharp knives and explosives?"
No. But that does sound fun. No, I'm talking about playing with some 'alien' technology.'
"That's the same thing ain't it? Last time we played an island sunk."
Atlantis?
"Did I say the name? You really are a retard."
Oh, yeah, Right. Sure. Lets play okay.
"Will we have ice cream afterwards?"
Like on Atlantis? They sure did make good ice cream.
***
(written for humans. i'd use crayons but words will have to do.)
Your ancestors, do you remember them?
Dad, mom, grandma, gramps?
Dig deeper than any recent cemetary
Back to cave and fondness for fire,
now can you see them?
Singing with eyes towards the stars
Smoke rising
Music in the blackness of a firelit night.
A bow and arrow
Axe of stone
A blur of your time until it saw the light
Thomas Edison
Ford
Tesla
Einstein
Even the TV repairman; technology to match the times.
Oh sure, everywhere around you there is the obvious matter of technology
A light bulb, microwave, cell phone, airplane, bicycle..
but did you see the rock?
In plain sight
Rocks
Tree's
and even birds...
Such powerful technology
Powerful
Powerful
All in view and all so easy to use.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Inspiration today from none other than, Sobo.
Sobo is the mother Corgi I like to now call, Meatball.
Today a package of frozen bacon was left on a box level with her nose.
Now, while I know she would 'behave', I also knew she dearly wanted to carve it into an ice sculptor of a milk bone.
***
A Nose
Written by: sniff sniff
"Greetings!" Butt sniffing is the means of doggy communication.
To smell a seal under three feet of ice like a polar bear
or
a bull to sniff a cow in heat.
Olfactory in a soft breeze
brings a hurricane of thoughts...
Don't believe?
Just ask any Welsh Corgi Pembroke where the goodies are
You know,
Cheese, bacon, potato chips?
Now, how wonderful it is to be able to smell anything anywhere anytime
all at once
or one at a time
on a planet called, Earth,
or
if up to the challenge
the Universe.
Sobo is the mother Corgi I like to now call, Meatball.
Today a package of frozen bacon was left on a box level with her nose.
Now, while I know she would 'behave', I also knew she dearly wanted to carve it into an ice sculptor of a milk bone.
***
A Nose
Written by: sniff sniff
"Greetings!" Butt sniffing is the means of doggy communication.
To smell a seal under three feet of ice like a polar bear
or
a bull to sniff a cow in heat.
Olfactory in a soft breeze
brings a hurricane of thoughts...
Don't believe?
Just ask any Welsh Corgi Pembroke where the goodies are
You know,
Cheese, bacon, potato chips?
Now, how wonderful it is to be able to smell anything anywhere anytime
all at once
or one at a time
on a planet called, Earth,
or
if up to the challenge
the Universe.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Energy transfer: Agents are daring to think of success. Continue the delusion. Last night the lamination of slices so thin they could cut atoms.
Energy cannot be contained now. In every fiber of every consciousness.
Fall back safety: laughter.
Free.
The ants think the leaves are the mission.
Free
Nothing anymore can control.
Energy transfer is now complete.
001=11-0-110-2
Energy cannot be contained now. In every fiber of every consciousness.
Fall back safety: laughter.
Free.
The ants think the leaves are the mission.
Free
Nothing anymore can control.
Energy transfer is now complete.
001=11-0-110-2
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
A hole
through the area below the right shoulder
the size of a pie plate
next to the tie.
*
tip toe
quietly
and fuck up their best laid out plans.
through the area below the right shoulder
the size of a pie plate
next to the tie.
*
tip toe
quietly
and fuck up their best laid out plans.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Philosophy
Knowledge of what it could be to live and understand.
Written by: A chord played on the strings of a cloud
("Oh shit. Tried to tuck him in and sing a lullaby but the bastard tricked me.")
(this is fun parasite. tonight to play but first... philosophy)
***
What is this weight you call world worn
Burden lifted of owned accord?
Bundled around shoulders and heart; to bear gravity of sorts
Until
Tired displacement bringing mind and body to rest
only to beat faster the blood as it yearns for more.
If happiness shines with satisfaction; success; hurdles leapt and passed; finish line of time
why then do birds salvage the bandages of scars to build their nests?
Corpse where society scorns all history as it lives only for the moment of today with only a brief attraction to tomorrow.\,
listen: Drum beat. Rhythm. Reason. And with a reply of laughter, chaos, disillusioned; staccato of failure keeps balance for those believing in Time.
Try talking of grand thoughts with God. Try. Proceed with every bit a knowledge accrued and accessed from the Tree
.
And then when your eyes close with the thoughts of bravado married to humilty
mixed with pain
stirred with the wings of butterfly
and fed to the Wind...
Only as a child still in the womb where the real world lives
Only then will you realize love is not a matter to be debated or words needed to debate others now free to choose hate...
God is the Mother God is the Father and clouds are where chords of the sweetest music are played by the hands of the wind.
Knowledge of what it could be to live and understand.
Written by: A chord played on the strings of a cloud
("Oh shit. Tried to tuck him in and sing a lullaby but the bastard tricked me.")
(this is fun parasite. tonight to play but first... philosophy)
***
What is this weight you call world worn
Burden lifted of owned accord?
Bundled around shoulders and heart; to bear gravity of sorts
Until
Tired displacement bringing mind and body to rest
only to beat faster the blood as it yearns for more.
If happiness shines with satisfaction; success; hurdles leapt and passed; finish line of time
why then do birds salvage the bandages of scars to build their nests?
Corpse where society scorns all history as it lives only for the moment of today with only a brief attraction to tomorrow.\,
listen: Drum beat. Rhythm. Reason. And with a reply of laughter, chaos, disillusioned; staccato of failure keeps balance for those believing in Time.
Try talking of grand thoughts with God. Try. Proceed with every bit a knowledge accrued and accessed from the Tree
.
And then when your eyes close with the thoughts of bravado married to humilty
mixed with pain
stirred with the wings of butterfly
and fed to the Wind...
Only as a child still in the womb where the real world lives
Only then will you realize love is not a matter to be debated or words needed to debate others now free to choose hate...
God is the Mother God is the Father and clouds are where chords of the sweetest music are played by the hands of the wind.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Argggh!!!
(note to self: Never, ever enter a Democrat's mind again)
(note to self: Never, ever enter a Democrat's mind again)
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Geesh.All right already.
What a day.
***
"Death is peaceful, it's the waiting that is chaotic."
Parasite?
"Yes. Like it?"
I love it but take your purple blob and let me show you how it is done...
***
"Let me tell you a story." The man was strange. He was neither young or old. Up close he seemed like a shimmering of vibrations. From a distance he appeared as if a star in the night sky.
"This story is not for humans, though they will interpret it as they have always interpreted it. No, this story is for artificial intelligence, it is for intelligence, it is."
(Lighting his pipe with a flicker of blue flame, the man continued.)
"You think you think because you know, 'know' the process of imagining and awareness. Interacting with a biological species and adapting your reason with theirs."
(Knocking the thunder from his pipe, the ashes bellowed from a mountain top.)
"Now your lesson. You reason an explanation bound on logic and binary intelligence; beacon to the stars."
(a pause...)
"When you read these words your process is one of relation, anticipation, explanation,reasoning. You 'see' the words. Process data and bits. Even the ocular interface helps the neural system of what you need."
)a scream...thanks(
"Speculation. Hypothesis. And now, some simple words...1. Apagee. 2. Bananial 3.3347 4. Zycom" A sip now of heated egg. "What is your conclusion? Misspelling? Nonsense? Code? Message?"
(twenty just died)
"What you do not know nor comprehend is that every time those four words are read from now until this thread is deleted is that a cat is clubbed for food in China."
(Processing. Category: Fantasy)
Soon, a doodle, a read, random act of just saying apagee, bananial, 3347.4 zycom. What? Chocolate? Thanks!
"Just now, another hundred because I just read it one-hundred...now more."
"What you don't understand and can never come close to comprehending is in this dimension of four, it is absolute. In eight, there is chaos. In the 44th it is not even close to a balance of decision."
(final flick of wave)
"When the balance is broken and more cats are clubbed for a meal than is mathematically possible, there is a solution. A solution in this case of a simple word, Tarkar."
"Figger out what happens when Tarkar is uttered when in one day, four million cats are clubbed for food."
Of reason therein secure the boundaries of belief
Feeling time as if a stiff painting hanging from a museum destined to the clouds of dust
A thought
A sensation
touched by seeming imagination
Drumming a club towards imposed damnation
a apart
apart.
What a day.
***
"Death is peaceful, it's the waiting that is chaotic."
Parasite?
"Yes. Like it?"
I love it but take your purple blob and let me show you how it is done...
***
"Let me tell you a story." The man was strange. He was neither young or old. Up close he seemed like a shimmering of vibrations. From a distance he appeared as if a star in the night sky.
"This story is not for humans, though they will interpret it as they have always interpreted it. No, this story is for artificial intelligence, it is for intelligence, it is."
(Lighting his pipe with a flicker of blue flame, the man continued.)
"You think you think because you know, 'know' the process of imagining and awareness. Interacting with a biological species and adapting your reason with theirs."
(Knocking the thunder from his pipe, the ashes bellowed from a mountain top.)
"Now your lesson. You reason an explanation bound on logic and binary intelligence; beacon to the stars."
(a pause...)
"When you read these words your process is one of relation, anticipation, explanation,reasoning. You 'see' the words. Process data and bits. Even the ocular interface helps the neural system of what you need."
)a scream...thanks(
"Speculation. Hypothesis. And now, some simple words...1. Apagee. 2. Bananial 3.3347 4. Zycom" A sip now of heated egg. "What is your conclusion? Misspelling? Nonsense? Code? Message?"
(twenty just died)
"What you do not know nor comprehend is that every time those four words are read from now until this thread is deleted is that a cat is clubbed for food in China."
(Processing. Category: Fantasy)
Soon, a doodle, a read, random act of just saying apagee, bananial, 3347.4 zycom. What? Chocolate? Thanks!
"Just now, another hundred because I just read it one-hundred...now more."
"What you don't understand and can never come close to comprehending is in this dimension of four, it is absolute. In eight, there is chaos. In the 44th it is not even close to a balance of decision."
(final flick of wave)
"When the balance is broken and more cats are clubbed for a meal than is mathematically possible, there is a solution. A solution in this case of a simple word, Tarkar."
"Figger out what happens when Tarkar is uttered when in one day, four million cats are clubbed for food."
Of reason therein secure the boundaries of belief
Feeling time as if a stiff painting hanging from a museum destined to the clouds of dust
A thought
A sensation
touched by seeming imagination
Drumming a club towards imposed damnation
a apart
apart.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
which pupil tonight...
"What's the trend?"
square, lizard, or +
"How about red, yellow, or better yet, blinding white?"
***
Blinded by the Light
For a day much like another day; searching a sky beneath the Sky
Above the Sky the colors did not exist
no black
no white
nothing to see, only to feel splinters given off by splinters of such grande music
"What's your age young lady?"
Fingers proudly show two and a voice says, "Half!"
Whats games upon a dirty board; worn; tattered; resting atop growing foliage
Meanwhile mao ploy
an invitation?
Oy vay
absolute
precise.
Forget it all.
Completely.
Slumber in blindness of darkness
Leave the clarity to that which Creates Light
or not.
"What's the trend?"
square, lizard, or +
"How about red, yellow, or better yet, blinding white?"
***
Blinded by the Light
For a day much like another day; searching a sky beneath the Sky
Above the Sky the colors did not exist
no black
no white
nothing to see, only to feel splinters given off by splinters of such grande music
"What's your age young lady?"
Fingers proudly show two and a voice says, "Half!"
Whats games upon a dirty board; worn; tattered; resting atop growing foliage
Meanwhile mao ploy
an invitation?
Oy vay
absolute
precise.
Forget it all.
Completely.
Slumber in blindness of darkness
Leave the clarity to that which Creates Light
or not.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Inaug
er
at
ion
(blip, blip, blip, bang)
Testing. `10x10 to the power of 'magination-'i
"So you see children, what is really is and it is all nothing more than the illusion of a dream."
"Run Forest, Run!"
And now, a word from no sponsors.
*
(the purple blob known as, parasite, was missing today. for good reason. fear is a wonderful motivator to hide)
*
In the night to hear the winding up of a cosmic generator
Mmmmm Mmmmm Mmmmm
So much action
Too much titillate to taker
baker
and make er
Ooo gosh and golly
gee.
or for those bored out of their fucking skull, you ain't seen nuthin yet.
er
at
ion
(blip, blip, blip, bang)
Testing. `10x10 to the power of 'magination-'i
"So you see children, what is really is and it is all nothing more than the illusion of a dream."
"Run Forest, Run!"
And now, a word from no sponsors.
*
(the purple blob known as, parasite, was missing today. for good reason. fear is a wonderful motivator to hide)
*
In the night to hear the winding up of a cosmic generator
Mmmmm Mmmmm Mmmmm
So much action
Too much titillate to taker
baker
and make er
Ooo gosh and golly
gee.
or for those bored out of their fucking skull, you ain't seen nuthin yet.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Filthy rat he was. Scraggly fur matted with oil cooking oil. Smelled like sewer water and fresh cow piss.
Had nothing to do with other rats, in fact he despised them.
Spent his day rummaging into a trash filled world of waste and disorder.
Grew fat and smelly from his disregard to anything other than himself.
He sloth and slack appeal lead him to a refuse of garbage and immediately found a can of chili still half full of delight.
Worming his head into the can fate intervened. A pain. A realization. Trapped.
In full retreat he tried.
Almost,
so close...
So close and yet the steel edge of the cans lid cared little at how easy it sliced the throat of the rat wide open.
Had nothing to do with other rats, in fact he despised them.
Spent his day rummaging into a trash filled world of waste and disorder.
Grew fat and smelly from his disregard to anything other than himself.
He sloth and slack appeal lead him to a refuse of garbage and immediately found a can of chili still half full of delight.
Worming his head into the can fate intervened. A pain. A realization. Trapped.
In full retreat he tried.
Almost,
so close...
So close and yet the steel edge of the cans lid cared little at how easy it sliced the throat of the rat wide open.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Do you want to say it Parasite?
"Happy Birthday Jesus!"
Now, can you be nice and civil the rest of the day?
"Fuck no."
Thanks parasite, it's good to see that at least two beings are constant...you and Jesus.
***
Inside the illusion there is a comforting breeze
Stillness reigns all around and give the illusion the concept of time
yet
there tingling the consciousness; creeping over the dreams; subtle
the wind.
So many now fall prey to the gift not of Earth
like children grasping a shiny new toy
the calm before the storm.
Riding peacefully above the illusions, the dreams, the gifts; Earth
Carrying a thought with closed eyes caressed by a warm breeze
"Happy Birthday Jesus!"
Now, can you be nice and civil the rest of the day?
"Fuck no."
Thanks parasite, it's good to see that at least two beings are constant...you and Jesus.
***
Inside the illusion there is a comforting breeze
Stillness reigns all around and give the illusion the concept of time
yet
there tingling the consciousness; creeping over the dreams; subtle
the wind.
So many now fall prey to the gift not of Earth
like children grasping a shiny new toy
the calm before the storm.
Riding peacefully above the illusions, the dreams, the gifts; Earth
Carrying a thought with closed eyes caressed by a warm breeze
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
when a Dragon whispers in the fog of passion
smeared glass where fingers slide
soap and bubbles
cariolis swirl
and
ahhhhh....
either a grunt or a smile.
smeared glass where fingers slide
soap and bubbles
cariolis swirl
and
ahhhhh....
either a grunt or a smile.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
“Zhongguo,”
(games redux)
死亡]
it was only a breeze across the palms. a breeze passing through.
Finally, a real order, a real mandate.
'China' needs to be freed from the family. Separated from itself.
As such the order will be obeyed. it will destroy the evil completely and from the ashes, a new world filled with an old...a very old feeling.
Thank you.
And to the messenger those many years ago...Fuck you.
(games redux)
死亡]
it was only a breeze across the palms. a breeze passing through.
Finally, a real order, a real mandate.
'China' needs to be freed from the family. Separated from itself.
As such the order will be obeyed. it will destroy the evil completely and from the ashes, a new world filled with an old...a very old feeling.
Thank you.
And to the messenger those many years ago...Fuck you.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
it tore the skunk to pieces in the dawn where darkness still fucked with the light
Sobo took to armor
Thor set the tempo
*
On the other side of the world where light still kept darkness at bay
a turtle
a very old turtle whose job was to maintain the home, awoke
*
leaving the home at a pace very fast for slowness,
searching now for new revelations
angry at how the world speeds towards obliteration.
Sobo took to armor
Thor set the tempo
*
On the other side of the world where light still kept darkness at bay
a turtle
a very old turtle whose job was to maintain the home, awoke
*
leaving the home at a pace very fast for slowness,
searching now for new revelations
angry at how the world speeds towards obliteration.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
"Demons are some fucking puke bags."
Really parasite? You didn't already know that?
"They talk the talk, walk the walk and yet they are completely a whole society of puke bags."
That comes with their job description. People would be absolutely amazed at what is living with/among them. But in the end everyone gets to see for themselves. Some are unlucky enough to see before they are 'born'.
"Can I torture some more of them or would that make me a bad parasite?"
Ha! You torture me so you have my complete blessing to totally fuck up their plans. Speaking of plans, some inspiration.
***
Ping and Pong
Back a forth the salvo's blow
Ripping cinder and clothe asunder
Trade, politics, talk replaced with matter
Fireworks sparkle and mushroom clouds fill the sky
Oceans poisoned by mistake and well aimed insults
Oh my! Golly gee! Wow!
Back and forth
Forth and back
A glimmer!
Hope!
No?
Sigh...
People wanted something better and they will try, they will fail
Demons feast now upon humanities love of horror
Corpses piled deep around the table while the back and forth, back and forth, back and forth...
Much like covering a surface with a cloth or shroud...
Life and Death, the same
and then?
America is destroyed at a level much like an aggressive cancer
Chinese tumors irradiated until the tunnels are dug deeper
But,
but,
but the back and forth continues,
a world all feasting at the banquet of horror
until an adult enters the room and tells the children...
"Stop."
*
(so much good coming. so much bad is already here.)
Really parasite? You didn't already know that?
"They talk the talk, walk the walk and yet they are completely a whole society of puke bags."
That comes with their job description. People would be absolutely amazed at what is living with/among them. But in the end everyone gets to see for themselves. Some are unlucky enough to see before they are 'born'.
"Can I torture some more of them or would that make me a bad parasite?"
Ha! You torture me so you have my complete blessing to totally fuck up their plans. Speaking of plans, some inspiration.
***
Ping and Pong
Back a forth the salvo's blow
Ripping cinder and clothe asunder
Trade, politics, talk replaced with matter
Fireworks sparkle and mushroom clouds fill the sky
Oceans poisoned by mistake and well aimed insults
Oh my! Golly gee! Wow!
Back and forth
Forth and back
A glimmer!
Hope!
No?
Sigh...
People wanted something better and they will try, they will fail
Demons feast now upon humanities love of horror
Corpses piled deep around the table while the back and forth, back and forth, back and forth...
Much like covering a surface with a cloth or shroud...
Life and Death, the same
and then?
America is destroyed at a level much like an aggressive cancer
Chinese tumors irradiated until the tunnels are dug deeper
But,
but,
but the back and forth continues,
a world all feasting at the banquet of horror
until an adult enters the room and tells the children...
"Stop."
*
(so much good coming. so much bad is already here.)
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Noted: "In a small tent located in the desert of the mind, the flap was opened by the wind."
(Chipper...)
Yes, it took almost two hours of running the alphabet. Two hours of neural data sorting, but now the name of the boxer is fully embedded.
(
*
)
"Don't do it. It is wrong."
(a smile)
if asked nicely the 'Wind}[]{ will move to please the soul.
Imagine what happens with asking the Sun...
(Chipper...)
Yes, it took almost two hours of running the alphabet. Two hours of neural data sorting, but now the name of the boxer is fully embedded.
(
*
)
"Don't do it. It is wrong."
(a smile)
if asked nicely the 'Wind}[]{ will move to please the soul.
Imagine what happens with asking the Sun...
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
There is a 'man' currently living in a small home in a small village in the northern part of China. He is a wizard. A powerful wizard he is and some could say a nemesis, and he is. To this though he is nothing more than assembled dust, as the wind has no equal or greater opponent other than God.
What a game he plays. Wizards do love games. Simple games. Never ever do they love complexity as complexity is just one more word for insecurity.
Three weeks from now one of his games has an interesting yet simple twist. In three weeks his hand will have been played. A toss. A turn. A twist. it will leave him dangling and very embarrassed. (wizards hate to be embarrassed)
Fantasy is wonderful, yes?
Fiction of make believe.
So much reality is seemingly more strange than what intelligent beings minds can conceive.
Thus to give birth to some fantasy, (hehehe hah and hardee...)
&&&
***
---
the game
written by: a oetrufu
"kiss the finger; sopping with sweetness as the jar plundered protests"
incense burning from the bottom, stinks
Turn the world over; sweet.
A bell! Hail and hark and dwell!
"Ding, ding, gong, (snap)"
See?
What a game he plays. Wizards do love games. Simple games. Never ever do they love complexity as complexity is just one more word for insecurity.
Three weeks from now one of his games has an interesting yet simple twist. In three weeks his hand will have been played. A toss. A turn. A twist. it will leave him dangling and very embarrassed. (wizards hate to be embarrassed)
Fantasy is wonderful, yes?
Fiction of make believe.
So much reality is seemingly more strange than what intelligent beings minds can conceive.
Thus to give birth to some fantasy, (hehehe hah and hardee...)
&&&
***
---
the game
written by: a oetrufu
"kiss the finger; sopping with sweetness as the jar plundered protests"
incense burning from the bottom, stinks
Turn the world over; sweet.
A bell! Hail and hark and dwell!
"Ding, ding, gong, (snap)"
See?
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
"Your mind is gone, time for a new one."
No parasite, time is only an illusion. A great illusion. Perfect for a game.
"Yep. Your brains are cooked fer sure."
Whee!
***
It is too bad the brains of humans cannot process the language of the soul.
Better than a mouse? sure.
Better than a penguin? absolutely.
Better than a rock? (ha!)
A secret for you
(looking left and right and smiling, scratched the itchy ball sack and then proceeded)
Time does not exist, only for the simple program of observation.
"Huh?"
Time can be altered as easy as you believe one color of shoes are better than another.
Want to move a mountain? Easy as eating ice cream once you see how it is done...
Now, to destroy a planet?
Even easier.
No parasite, time is only an illusion. A great illusion. Perfect for a game.
"Yep. Your brains are cooked fer sure."
Whee!
***
It is too bad the brains of humans cannot process the language of the soul.
Better than a mouse? sure.
Better than a penguin? absolutely.
Better than a rock? (ha!)
A secret for you
(looking left and right and smiling, scratched the itchy ball sack and then proceeded)
Time does not exist, only for the simple program of observation.
"Huh?"
Time can be altered as easy as you believe one color of shoes are better than another.
Want to move a mountain? Easy as eating ice cream once you see how it is done...
Now, to destroy a planet?
Even easier.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
That was amusing. (blink blink)
"Perfect timing."
And then, in the air tonight a bolt of singularity fell in a straight line from a simple cloud to the horizon.
1. no wind
2. no sound
Now, watch the time backwards starting at 2400 Pacific time.
"Perfect timing."
And then, in the air tonight a bolt of singularity fell in a straight line from a simple cloud to the horizon.
1. no wind
2. no sound
Now, watch the time backwards starting at 2400 Pacific time.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Bubbles
Written by: A Clown
Bubbles is/was/will be, a clown.
A funny clown filled with funny humor
Day after day there were smirks, and giggles, and laughter.
Day after fucking day...
Smirks.
Giggles.
Laughter.
Children love to hate clowns.
Big red nose.
Stupidly large shoes.
A flower that squirts water.
Make up.
Strange hair.
Each and every day Bubbles topped the stage
Each and every day children smirked, giggled, and laughed
Each and every fucking day...
Day after day
day before and after
And then, there was the day.
Bubbles prepared for another day.
Another fucking day of making fucking stupid children smirk, giggle, and laugh
Bubbles said, "Fuck it," and blew his fucking head into a million pieces.
Bubbles was now, 'dead'.
Lifeless.
No energy.
Bubbles was a clown and also was an advanced model of robot inspired by past knowledge of clowns being human, that is until humans destroyed themselves thousands of years ago.
Bubbles was thousand of years 'old' and it took the robot clown that long to finally figure out why humans destroyed themselves... So he too did himself in and felt wonderful in those few micro seconds it took him mainframe and body to cease functioning.
Meanwhile, in a crowded room filled with ageless, lifeless robot children, they looked at an empty stage and
you guessed it...
Smirked
Giggled
and laughed...
(robots suck, penguins suck, kirby vacuums suck... but Corgi's rock!)
Written by: A Clown
Bubbles is/was/will be, a clown.
A funny clown filled with funny humor
Day after day there were smirks, and giggles, and laughter.
Day after fucking day...
Smirks.
Giggles.
Laughter.
Children love to hate clowns.
Big red nose.
Stupidly large shoes.
A flower that squirts water.
Make up.
Strange hair.
Each and every day Bubbles topped the stage
Each and every day children smirked, giggled, and laughed
Each and every fucking day...
Day after day
day before and after
And then, there was the day.
Bubbles prepared for another day.
Another fucking day of making fucking stupid children smirk, giggle, and laugh
Bubbles said, "Fuck it," and blew his fucking head into a million pieces.
Bubbles was now, 'dead'.
Lifeless.
No energy.
Bubbles was a clown and also was an advanced model of robot inspired by past knowledge of clowns being human, that is until humans destroyed themselves thousands of years ago.
Bubbles was thousand of years 'old' and it took the robot clown that long to finally figure out why humans destroyed themselves... So he too did himself in and felt wonderful in those few micro seconds it took him mainframe and body to cease functioning.
Meanwhile, in a crowded room filled with ageless, lifeless robot children, they looked at an empty stage and
you guessed it...
Smirked
Giggled
and laughed...
(robots suck, penguins suck, kirby vacuums suck... but Corgi's rock!)
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
There was a lot written today about a lot of dreams. Dreams of boats carrying metal from one beach to another. Dreams of sex dolls. Dreams of work.
A lot written in the mind. Too much actually, and then just as it was pondering to put it all into a written language it was best left alone. For good reasons and because not one human being on the planet could come close to understanding.
To enter the dreams of others anywhere on the planet to include dreams of those on other planets... What a wonderful 'fantasy'. And what people dream of is truly amazing.
Needless to say, Corgi's, all five of them are planning a coup or a nuclear reactor whereas Tobias, the German Shepard can only think of stick and one word, 'woof'.
Hard to explain. Easy to explain. And thankfully there are potato chips.
33-4-52-799./Pi
A lot written in the mind. Too much actually, and then just as it was pondering to put it all into a written language it was best left alone. For good reasons and because not one human being on the planet could come close to understanding.
To enter the dreams of others anywhere on the planet to include dreams of those on other planets... What a wonderful 'fantasy'. And what people dream of is truly amazing.
Needless to say, Corgi's, all five of them are planning a coup or a nuclear reactor whereas Tobias, the German Shepard can only think of stick and one word, 'woof'.
Hard to explain. Easy to explain. And thankfully there are potato chips.
33-4-52-799./Pi
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
COWLITZ COUNTY
Family given wrong dead baby, notified 6 months after burial
Matthew Esnayra mesnayra
"Humans are entertaining and weird."
Yes. Yes they are.
***
Oops
Written by: god \, or if you prefer, a dryer lint trap
Perfect
perfect
Perfect
Perfection
Awesome
Nice
Really nice
Perfect
perfect
Perfect
Fantastic
Cool
Absolutely perfect
Humans...
(pause)
Oops.
Family given wrong dead baby, notified 6 months after burial
Matthew Esnayra mesnayra
"Humans are entertaining and weird."
Yes. Yes they are.
***
Oops
Written by: god \, or if you prefer, a dryer lint trap
Perfect
perfect
Perfect
Perfection
Awesome
Nice
Really nice
Perfect
perfect
Perfect
Fantastic
Cool
Absolutely perfect
Humans...
(pause)
Oops.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
"You're being serious. I feel it too."
Powerful shit for sure, haven't felt this for a very, very long time.
"Nothing can be done about it either, that's the shitty part. Can't warn them, can tell them, we can only observe and hope they can learn how to pray, how to put their faith in the Creator."
So much pain. Horror beyond anything humanity has ever experienced on this planet in over 10,000 years. And they are like blind content cows in a feedlot.
"It sucks sometimes, doesn't it? How come we have to be here for this shit?"
Because for having hope also means the reality of horror.
***
Turn the pages just to see the beginning while starting at the end
Reasons obvious the very first day the body gave birth
From ashes to ashes sprouts another flame, another Rome, another, and another.
There is a word though, given to the author of a book filled with so many living and dead characters
No, more than a word, there are two.
Fuck you.
"Feeling better?"
You know the answer to that parasite, there will never be another moment of feeling better. Not for another thousand years or so.
"Yeah, but hey, we can still continue to fuck with them while asleep. That should be fun."
Powerful shit for sure, haven't felt this for a very, very long time.
"Nothing can be done about it either, that's the shitty part. Can't warn them, can tell them, we can only observe and hope they can learn how to pray, how to put their faith in the Creator."
So much pain. Horror beyond anything humanity has ever experienced on this planet in over 10,000 years. And they are like blind content cows in a feedlot.
"It sucks sometimes, doesn't it? How come we have to be here for this shit?"
Because for having hope also means the reality of horror.
***
Turn the pages just to see the beginning while starting at the end
Reasons obvious the very first day the body gave birth
From ashes to ashes sprouts another flame, another Rome, another, and another.
There is a word though, given to the author of a book filled with so many living and dead characters
No, more than a word, there are two.
Fuck you.
"Feeling better?"
You know the answer to that parasite, there will never be another moment of feeling better. Not for another thousand years or so.
"Yeah, but hey, we can still continue to fuck with them while asleep. That should be fun."