Should I edit my past or continue straight on going.
When you’re high, you realize anything could be a sign. Since consciousness occurs after the moment.
To be seen from above, you must first allow yourself to be seen from above.
Write down your writing and then into its reflection in the mirror and what do you see? But your eyes?
Dance while highness to dance to the music to the point of dancing to the music and forgetting you’re being watched. Once people do this, they realize how difficult it is to dance to the music while sober, and then they realize they see so many others out there better dancing than them? And why is it that I should be so different? Whatever the reason, it does seem to be. The case that. I, me. Am writing. The music as it comes to me, whatever those words may be. They flow if the music flows, and they dance if the music dances. And how much of this music are you willing to give up to the future’s viewment, a view you’re only able to witness from the past.
You can dance to your shadowed reflection and not notice that its you for a while. And I’ve danced some dances like these. And I’ve written some words that scared me with how true they feel when I found them burst into my brain and immediately written down. I appear to be pulling from some source. And pulling without any effort of mine, just like how I hear sounds.
To a degree that other stuff comes to mind when the song changes its tune, and these words I do not know what they will be. But I’ve just been interrupted by the words RECHARGE HEADSET. Without a word of a lie came the messenger to its king. So I don’t maybe think I’m still the one in control.
The scary genre of the future is people filming themselves writing their words down when they’re high and full of creativity. Thus removing the genre of hope, for living in the reality of the past. The universe collapses inwards once the reality of the moment has been breached. For the universe increases in size as does its consciousness. And consciousness is the true reality of the moment. Each moment, a universe in itself. With every moment a universe and the other universes collapsing.
People are capable of almost anything. I know cause I am.
Although in this past moment I wanted to write as good a high song as the Natural Anthem by The Postal Service.
Why doesn’t a Wonder
just give me one more?
from En Attendant Ana at the end
And shall we compare 26 to 26 or am I being paranoid?
27
That’s a lot to unpack with my morning coffee. I’ll get back to you.
Erm… hello, Bri?
I dunno about ‘high’, but I can offer some practical advice. If you’re bothered about people watching you dance, simply learn some steps.
I’ve been doing ballroom and latin dance classes for decades, on and off. If you learn the basic routines for jive, cha-cha, waltz, and foxtrot, you can dance to just about anything when out in public and, crucially, look like you know what you’re doing.
Mrs F and I danced a rockaway jive at a folk club gig a few weeks ago. That’s something we didn’t expect we’d be doing when we left the house.
I’m going to be in Dunboyne today. I always regarded it as an unremarkable little town with a good playground, a half decent charity shop and poor public transport. I’ll try to keep my eyes and mind open as there’s clearly more to it than meets the eye!
For the record, Dunboyne seemed its usual self this morning when I was there earlier…further updates to follow later
Almost went to Dinboyne once.
Turned back when I saw the “Twinned with Sodom”
Sign on the outskirts of the town
Dunboyne seemed normal this evening too. I’ll listen out in local news for any warnings about “the brown acid”.
You are Aki Streeter and I claim my five pounds.
This.
Will there ever be a boy born who can swim faster then a shark?
Yes if the boy is swimming through water and the shark is swimming through liquefied shit
There is more of this stuff out there, readers..!
https://www.reddit.com/user/-okodunboyne-/
I’ll have what he’s having.
There’s nothing big or clever about taking drugs, H
The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom… apparently.
Poetry. Pure poetry. Now all it needs is a tune.
And, in case, @okodunboyne , this is a maiden post, don’t be put off by the comments, we is old and we is sour. Sometimes.
We is old and we is sour
We like to mither by the hour.
Have you done your shillying for the day yet?
I believe it was mikethep who was shillying.
Today I have mostly dillied and dallied, dallied and I dillied. Mostly though I dillied with a side order of lallygagging.
Though I’m not sure where mi cock linnet is.
HP Saucecraft, how are you babes?
Stephen King Shirley.
Are you the inventor of that gizmo that produces electricity from fresh air?
If so watch out the oil barons will KILL YOU
I think what’s needed at this juncture is the Oberkrainer Polka Mädels. Or so the algorithm thinks. Remarkable.