- تصویر ششم: ستاره های دور و بازی های نزدیک
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از همه چى و از هيچى - قیچی بریده های نامه های فرستاده نشده بدون ترتیب زمان و مکانBreathe... keep breathing Don’t lose.. your nerve. Breathe... keep breathing I can’t do this.. alone. I'm a loner. I tend to go alone or keep it going, in the absence of external force. that's just physics. I hear voices. it's a news anchor man, talking constantly in my head. people who can't express themselves become sick. it's not nobody's fault. they're just sick. You can laugh A spineless laugh We hope that your rules and wisdom choke you what a waste, I could be your lover. what a waste I could be your friend. we were stronger when we were kids. it was hard for me because I felt like I lost you. which is, in a weird way true, but I never had you to start with. and with all the shit that's going on in my life, loosing something you never had was just too much of a shock to my already broken system. heh, damn! living in my car has made me talk like a car. and now I'm thinking if living in a car could make me a car, living with you would made me a what? it's happening again. I'm sitting still. do you think you can loose yourself? how many selves are there to loose? best times of my life were those when I somehow could get out of myself. well ... no. that's not completely true. but you get the point. please? I'm honest. somehow it made me asexual. and for that I love the goat cheese lady even more. btw, she is not dying anymore. her brain is fixed. and she's already lived my dream in europe. and I mean literally. to know if you can love somebody, just imagine them as a kid. and then watch their life, and them growing up. it's that easy. of course, the trick is you need to be able to imagine that ... how bitter and dark I've drowned, is yet another reason there is no god. Pack and get dressed Before your father hears us Before.. all hell.. breaks loose. I used to believe in god. for what matters I so believed in god, heaven, angels, good and evil, that when I was a kid I'd fancy myself growing up as a martyr. that was the dream when I was brainwashed. when you are a dreamer you have to, and always will dream. the dreams you live may change, but that's how you are wired. I used to have faith. and beliefs. and certainty. but somehow growing up changed that. I grow into becoming an atheist. a non-believer. with no faith. Then I couldn't believe in anything. I still believed in spirit, karma, whatever you name it, something else that I could trust but couldn't see or know. love filled the place of beliefs, but there was this uncertainty left with a big whole in my life. I was no longer a kid. I was a teen. and then I lived longer. I lived the life of an adult. it was too early too soon, for me but I had no choice. and that grow me into this hole. this vein. this uncertainty and rationality and now I think to myself, there is probably a God. we would never know, I mean, we could never really know. but even if there is a God, he doesn't care. he has better things to do. God doesn't give a shit. this whole us, he made it and went away. fate is real. and so fucking ungodly. God is real too, but so fucking irrelevant. you, on the other hand. you are relevant. you make up my life. Sing us a song A song to keep us warm There’s such a chill Such a chill. |
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Among Hapalist Letters --
Once there was an adorable little bunny that hopped and bopped through the cotton fields eating carrots all day long. |
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Oh Grizzly Bears save me. Oh alligator save me.
There is Shift, Plans, and Dinner. I came to you with Liars. and Drums that are not dead. it's a fear, it is near. the shape becomes ever clear. It bares teeth, extra sharp, that'll cut you in the heart. It attacks really quick, try and fight it with a stick. it's no use, give it up, this is life and this is love. You are my alligator |