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Chilled energy fixes me incomplete; writhing without sleep, I live an unfinished lie.
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Chilled energy fixes me incomplete; writhing without sleep, I live an unfinished lie. Here my thoughts and holes. Fill them in, please. I can't finish on my own. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| He, --Walked cold, Ran hard He, --Never sat, Rested Did He stare at loss? 'Cuz He lost his eyes. Otherwise, this Fire Would--be seen? Maybe. He, --Egged none, Wrought sown He, --Never sat, Bested Did He stare at loss? 'Cuz He lost his eyes. Otherwise, this Fire Would--be seen? Maybe. |
| I'm the kind of guy who'd marry you for practice. Then, give thanks and leave in search - For someone just like you. But, someone I can have. |
| Sometime in January. For me, home is where you are Where my heart doesn’t spur furiously afraid there’s Just, just, Night. ................I wish we were closer ................Because, You’re Big, Bright, ................home – some times – ........So memorable. When with You, I am Happy, Home. But… I Never Know – And That’s Sad – If I can come back. ///////////////////////////////// I couldn't figure how to keep the formatting without the dots. I hope it works. It's important, i Think. |
| I'm back, I suppose. What a chore serving my country is - the pay nearly not enough for such ridiculous antics. I'm no old man, aged, maybe, but old, no. Here I am with my hip sprained. Jeez. Cheers world, -I've nothing to do but write. |
| I have it: the future industrious opportunity. Hark my words; mark them dearly; give them investor's scribe... Challenging the obesity epidemic in America is a daunting task indeed. But, having been big myself, I can say there's one glaring failure in the medical system. Rejuvenation therapies don't have an approach to removing excess skin and repairing elasticity. Invasive, dangerous, plastic surgery is required. We don't know enough about our bodies to come up with a way to allow the fappish behavior of gluttonous youth to be turned into the look of lasting, prime, health. In short: fix it. Get me a way to handle these god-damned stretch marks. My dermatologist sent me to a plastic surgeon. I almost flipped her off. I don't need to be cut to get cut. There must be another way. |
| 'Twas six in the morning. No clock tolled. The sun woke the horizon. No cock crowed. The digital dashboard wall displayed 0600. Bright neon-red text said it all, “It's six. Six in the morning.” That was simply too much information for Daisy today. 'Twas six in the morning when Daisy remembered last night. Six in the morning when Daisy copped to her plight. Somewhere sleeping was a man. Somewhere in the house, she thought. But, where? Daisy forgot the time as she set off opening blinds. First the living room, east in the twilight, splashing reveals on silver shadows. No one on the couch. Into the kitchen, the bamboo blinds in the arches looking North over dark fields and the edge of the property. Maybe he's out roaming? Daisy reversed through the living room and stepped lightly into the tiled hall. |
| A response to: http://www.ted.com/talks/sherry_turkle_alone_together.html [As we expect more from technology, do we expect less from each other? Sherry Turkle studies how our devices and online personas are redefining human connection and communication -- and asks us to think deeply about the new kinds of connection we want to have.] She very carefully dodged the utility of friends; why we would keep certain people in our lives. Growing knowledge and entertaining advanced conversations online is almost a must if you're serious about it - that's because the population of intellectuals is pretty thin (not just in America, but around the world). The internet allows novel interactions to build creative, progressive, communities - and radical conservative ones. But, what happens when your son or daughter gets sick? When you have a bad week? Where do you turn when you need someone to watch your dog, feed your cat, water your plants, take the paper from the front door? Let's step back a few steps in this cultural schema. Who do you approach when you want to have a child? We're coming to a society that will ask the internet for all these things. Ultimately, yes, humans will code the interfaces. And yes, a well reviewed dog sitter will be at your door. Maybe you even get a doctor visiting with a cup or turkey baster and voila: child. But, what a waste of resources when all of this could have been done by an intimate network of friends on their spare time. We need to be careful that we don't substitute social obligations, connections, and intimacy, for robotic responses to our everyday needs. One, it's limiting; machine evolution won't match the novelty of animal interaction as long as humans are responsible for that progress. Two, we are social creatures, driven to perform and grow with the help of others. Cut off our exposure to the uniqueness in each other, and you risk losing any inspiration for progress - literally creating a stagnant utopia governed by the moment we made enough. |
| I wonder what I miss or if I even miss anything at all about writing less, now that I'm busy and full. "Full": |
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