The Professional Weed Lovers
Lazed around moped with boney with slurred words get up and gloopy brightness of colour I could see him as, his clothes, his bed sheets, the titles of an E Four Horsemen book sticking out the edge and stuck up near all these dvds. Turning around with a fake glass remember thinking (this is when you quote your normal body language said, what's going on in head) turning around being like this is my other baby beug this is how good it is, it's pretty clean too. fuck oath true loook breee yerp check that" .. As I slouch.. but the noises, like it's too hot. Why's it too hot? Like it.. As if it does a... like it would do... or a simple No way it's going like that for me, so it pokes them on the cusp of deathful disappointment of feeling the very stream of a sweatlet drop at the last bridge to cross before you go beyond that creasant moon underneath strolling through a forest of frollocking tips like flickering snakes so fierce and like thick beige wallframe paint without our doors slippery we can slither and stretch as tree top ends, like angry cats, stretching cats, floppy ears flapping, writing without your glasses, thinking of excuses to say "nah or no thank-you", how lethargic it would be like sliding down the doona slagging down the edge of the bed. You are the spit survivor, and that is your waterslide, that's where you've chosen to sling into your machine life of direction, and family, family aspects, how long until you set off your own short temper and you realise how it's the switch that's been flicked to up-spicy - you're a type of groove you can't walk over away from suffocating from living in yonder, so you scurry along but as the shadows are always drunk and heaving down highways we drive and walk through this and these are monsters, with soft paws we shake are forgiving disciples that meant to be evil you wiggle into a salute to the What you rely on, and so to anyone, that's emptiness.
We trust this drug, we see through hazed eyes profound colour and pattern compare to the downwards slack hanging or is the floor holding it's stool table bed side fable closer does it pull closer to the ground? Does this mean we're asking if gravity is the 'second; most natural thing to after us as human-beings? What happens if we believed in gravity? Love and livelihood will float like it's successful and things would be so very light, would the dire crave of reaching out for something in front of any attraction? Can we believe in ourselves as trekkers of Love, one's with palms out and sliding on their heels for a sense of companionship they
the way he held bong. remind me of painting of his room.. shame i won't recall this as wholesome.
Keep the day trust sweat, exer-work.
Pe
Tuesday, June 14, 2016
Monday, June 13, 2016
i swear i walked in on my mate wanking, his room stinks now.
The older adults are not the youth, as we talk more together as youth than adults.. Unless they're really passionate at something.
The older adults think we want to grow into their shoes, they don't know what they're dealing with if we're taught by them. They need to remember who they are teaching just by living.
The older adults
I know what youth means
They're hiding real life. What's more important?
The older adults are not the youth, as we talk more together as youth than adults.. Unless they're really passionate at something.
The older adults think we want to grow into their shoes, they don't know what they're dealing with if we're taught by them. They need to remember who they are teaching just by living.
The older adults
I know what youth means
They're hiding real life. What's more important?
so you thought you'd never lose. so you thought.
the two was all that easy. even to the anonymity. you thought you'd do it over and over again. To keep your secrets
to sign upon suicide redemption
to mend your broken fucking mind and heal your memory
AND YOU THOUGHT DEATH WOULD SUFFICE (she yells, or screams) TWO CHOICES (fingers up) infinitely surrounding, heaving through.
She writes with faith in her words.
the two was all that easy. even to the anonymity. you thought you'd do it over and over again. To keep your secrets
to sign upon suicide redemption
to mend your broken fucking mind and heal your memory
AND YOU THOUGHT DEATH WOULD SUFFICE (she yells, or screams) TWO CHOICES (fingers up) infinitely surrounding, heaving through.
She writes with faith in her words.
What is glory?
If this time a set facet upon the template of our faces driving by in our fast shiny aerodynamics are zooming before any little appreciation for existence from anyone, that we can see around. And if they're around, where are they exactly? We ask ourselves because I'm the one who wants time to stop, just for a second and so I continue. A place he comes from is overseas, part of a mob for an underestimation to everything even reliving again, like as if your past didn't teach you anything! An army believes in politics, hopes and dreams wholesome and the TAB. I knew this as a threat because it's a disease what we jump to consistence those include annihilation, no more humiliation we all screech.
If this time a set facet upon the template of our faces driving by in our fast shiny aerodynamics are zooming before any little appreciation for existence from anyone, that we can see around. And if they're around, where are they exactly? We ask ourselves because I'm the one who wants time to stop, just for a second and so I continue. A place he comes from is overseas, part of a mob for an underestimation to everything even reliving again, like as if your past didn't teach you anything! An army believes in politics, hopes and dreams wholesome and the TAB. I knew this as a threat because it's a disease what we jump to consistence those include annihilation, no more humiliation we all screech.
my numbers not as hot as summers but sky rockets I can knock them like a dropped mop splat and split straight up through the ozone, it's all alike a whirl pool blanket folds that follow into an plague of digital like pixels vibrations that's simple that's basic not a whirlpool physical law it spells like a scheme it is all like I love you so attachment by a witch to her cauldron, stirring the music she seems.
I mean that.
And by and by and by, a choice everywhere. To watch it go round. A flower, a span, of beams and subjective topical anniversaries honest and before any fake and dying language. Another place we love that we relied on the steps into the darkness, the end is reason. We pray "the end is reason" as time isn't stopping for no man with no peach with remarkable to some degree as that perspective is immeasurable because these are tools we use and courageously wear now for a stretch to whispering to blooming plants, what do you say to them? If they could speak back we say to enlighten where we're already.
I've brought you into an inferior corner square to dancing heels flick and hundreds and pigeons too rule this move it all says, now another, more than you know.
I mean that.
And by and by and by, a choice everywhere. To watch it go round. A flower, a span, of beams and subjective topical anniversaries honest and before any fake and dying language. Another place we love that we relied on the steps into the darkness, the end is reason. We pray "the end is reason" as time isn't stopping for no man with no peach with remarkable to some degree as that perspective is immeasurable because these are tools we use and courageously wear now for a stretch to whispering to blooming plants, what do you say to them? If they could speak back we say to enlighten where we're already.
I've brought you into an inferior corner square to dancing heels flick and hundreds and pigeons too rule this move it all says, now another, more than you know.
i'm just writing a religion as i'm living so taint taut tangled lit gas stove like hot crack smoke jointed fucking thing dropped like ting ting in the boiler kettle bing it's ready we're not better than our hair done's and i mean that cunt, by our best kept one's we save just icky bunches of flowers sprouted poets graffiti tags snapped before stealing. This is just a warm up
Cos I'm confused but that word runs along with a vinyl time that's control save on a program that I can call mine and so can you but this is different, there's a mob mopping floors hearing through their headphones jumping from their own statements because that's what the fame is doing to their brain it's insane echoes sparing roads. what's that mean you hard boiled egg holding the shit we bow down in clothes scraggy ripped off mp4's they're like ways to watch other people's stories falling apart. A good way a better quality this is the unit to mug swaps investigation and investment like a statement mixed with a sharp window pane like chipped wooden hair brushing poof cloud ushering cos my clouds better and so it waits. we wait alongside them thinking baby squeeze out the other ways. This is life babe, this is faith we live to breath a contradiction it's a simple ease to jump and with ripples for tides sucking inwards and seas fuzzy brushed like dusted feather shake your tail tensed up before someone saying again that it's not waves or circumstance that defines us as way we should change our minds to the imagination that a pinch distance we believe in, and repetition the soft ways that gently like a lovely depression i'd rather the instance with a capital delinquency leniency happy in my hoody on a friday another metaphor cos words I just wanna score. By that stamps and rulers are what I line up and reply to.
Cos I'm confused but that word runs along with a vinyl time that's control save on a program that I can call mine and so can you but this is different, there's a mob mopping floors hearing through their headphones jumping from their own statements because that's what the fame is doing to their brain it's insane echoes sparing roads. what's that mean you hard boiled egg holding the shit we bow down in clothes scraggy ripped off mp4's they're like ways to watch other people's stories falling apart. A good way a better quality this is the unit to mug swaps investigation and investment like a statement mixed with a sharp window pane like chipped wooden hair brushing poof cloud ushering cos my clouds better and so it waits. we wait alongside them thinking baby squeeze out the other ways. This is life babe, this is faith we live to breath a contradiction it's a simple ease to jump and with ripples for tides sucking inwards and seas fuzzy brushed like dusted feather shake your tail tensed up before someone saying again that it's not waves or circumstance that defines us as way we should change our minds to the imagination that a pinch distance we believe in, and repetition the soft ways that gently like a lovely depression i'd rather the instance with a capital delinquency leniency happy in my hoody on a friday another metaphor cos words I just wanna score. By that stamps and rulers are what I line up and reply to.
Wednesday, June 8, 2016
It's like the way you throw yourself at me, with your shoulders thick and so down with the stretch of your torso but it ends, and I need more. Realising what I'm seeing. This; I feel frozen, as my stomach clenches a pier like rod holding up from the seas beneath, where there are waves crashing and that's all I'm seeing because you're just good looking, and I hate something about you.
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