I really hope to get this off of the ground.
Tuesday, 21 July 2009
Untitled 03.

The blood of an infant cries with primordial warfare.
As flower pedals are crushed in the ground by clumsy feet, I ponder over the meaning of it all; Happiness a miserable ease.
Running since conception and who and why and where.
By who's hand was the meaning of life giv'n? The question begs an irrelevant answer. By my hand I may take it away. Therefore, power is in my hands.
With epiphany in my soul I lay weeping with optimism in the light shadows cast beneath the sky.
I was a worm.
I am a bridge.
Wednesday, 15 July 2009
Please, take something away from this.

I am Ouroboros.
I am a naive bundle of emotions wrought with love and fear.
I have my views and opinions, I tie them together with straw.
I am a teenager. I am a human.
I am significant, so are you.
Those watery eyes hold a glare so distinct that inspire a reaction so affectionate, and so meaningful, that the folding world around you will finally collapse entirely, and will be meaningless.
Fears, tears, toys and all.
You are Ouroboros.
I am Ouroboros.
I love you.
Snakes are irrelevant.
-"It is the individual who is not interested in his fellow man who has the greatest difficulties in life and provides the greatest injury to others. It is from among such individuals that all human failures spring."
Friday, 10 July 2009
Kómmunikáshun. Manipuláshun.

Dorws nac be panimutaled, but trelets, roveweho, rae raf remo diclifutuf to mapter thiw. Het solbyms of nam rae het fatoundion of anitertinoc benewet tentiesi, nad I nema hatt ni het gradsent neses. Hist is my trareh titre nad trepentious fortef at donig mosehingt motreley tristica. I do memcond you fi you rae bale to phedicre hist.
Hist si a stet. To tapience, to mocuminication, to my now nasity, which epofylluh L'il eb bale to chreeb noso genuoh.
Thursday, 9 July 2009
Okay.
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