Thread: For Paranoia's Sake...

Good lsd??

Originally Posted by The Situation

Good lsd??

or something

Originally Posted by maniclion

My paranoia is well founded in irrationality, just because your eyes lock with a strangers doesn't mean they are trying to break into your mind, but I still think about it. Then I think what would happen if they did get in my mind, how would I know? Maybe they did get in, I have been invaded...so I shut my eyes and start running from room to room in my head hunting down the stranger in my meminries....and then I find them right there in that memory about scanning this room I'm in and locking eyes with that stranger and then freaking out that they are now in my head....Then I think "This person just locked eye's within a memory, are they now I my subconscious, the antechamber to the unconscious realm of dreams....at what point do these strangers slip through and peak at you from behind your dreams...do they even know that they have entered this other world?

Self obsession is an interesting phenomenon -- but only to shrinks and those whom they treat, the self obsessed. Are your misspellings and your goofy syntax accidental, or just a cry for attention? (If you are on LSD, stand easy. I'm not that interested, and I am not tracking you. Seriously.)

Hey manic, there's a stain on the floor in that room you may want to take care of.

GICH!

Originally Posted by SYN

or something

I agree,he's dusted . with angel dust.

Originally Posted by 2tomlinson

Self obsession is an interesting phenomenon -- but only to shrinks and those whom they treat, the self obsessed. Are your misspellings and your goofy syntax accidental, or just a cry for attention? (If you are on LSD, stand easy. I'm not that interested, and I am not tracking you. Seriously.)

i find you even less interesting than him

Strip those clothes
I tell the salesman
Now I am dressed like a mannequin
~~
I lather the soap
Little bubbles form on skin
A rainbow visible in each of them
~~
Beads of sweat gather
Across the brow
Like waves on a still ocean
~~
I clasp my hands together
Fingers form
A flower that won’t wither
~~
Dancing before the mirror
There is stunned silence
I have a forgiving audience
~~
The mosquito feeds on me
And falls
It has chosen to die well
~~
Looking straight into the sun
Tears well up in my eyes
I have brought the showers as respite
~~
I am glad you left
After slashing my wrists
It is only blood that congeals
~~
I run my pen
Over the lines of destiny
Writing the fate I wish
~~
I feel a permanent moistness
On my lips
Thirst will never go thirsty

Stop watching Matrix movies while you're smokin dude.

If you try to out stare a tree
you might find it can see...

Originally Posted by maniclion

If you try to out stare a tree
you might find it can see...

Actually, that's pretty good.

Originally Posted by The Situation

Strip those clothes
I tell the salesman
Now I am dressed like a mannequin
~~
I lather the soap
Little bubbles form on skin
A rainbow visible in each of them
~~
Beads of sweat gather
Across the brow
Like waves on a still ocean
~~
I clasp my hands together
Fingers form
A flower that won’t wither
~~
Dancing before the mirror
There is stunned silence
I have a forgiving audience
~~
The mosquito feeds on me
And falls
It has chosen to die well
~~
Looking straight into the sun
Tears well up in my eyes
I have brought the showers as respite
~~
I am glad you left
After slashing my wrists
It is only blood that congeals
~~
I run my pen
Over the lines of destiny
Writing the fate I wish
~~
I feel a permanent moistness
On my lips
Thirst will never go thirsty

And this is great! Did you write this? What he hell's going on here?

Death shrieks eternal,
hear it's ring in deafening silence
life pounding it's beating
tick-tock countdown accompaniment...
but underneath it all; whispers of lovers, laughter of children
scream of delight, whimpers of hurt - that flatline screeches on
reminding us of our final mortality
as we vamp over it with our speed ups and groove downs
harmoniously playing along even knowing who gets
the final bravo, not quite sure on the encore
life is just a nearly imperceptible syncopated arpeggio

Leo Maniacus - 2010

Originally Posted by maniclion

Death shrieks eternal,
hear it's ring in deafening silence
life pounding it's beating
tick-tock countdown accompaniment...
but underneath it all; whispers of lovers, laughter of children
scream of delight, whimpers of hurt - that flatline screeches on
reminding us of our final mortality
as we vamp over it with our speed ups and groove downs
harmoniously playing along even knowing who gets
the final bravo, not quite sure on the encore
life is just a nearly imperceptible syncopated arpeggio

Leo Maniacus - 2010

I'd dump the adverbs. They murk the water, slow the prose. Always -- nearly.

Originally Posted by 2tomlinson

I'd dump the adverbs. They murk the water, slow the prose. Always -- nearly.

It's an excerpt from my novel...it's supposed to be slow, read like a guy who's been drinking whiskey and smoking cigarettes all day, his throat doesn't throttle well like Tom Waits or Charles Bukowski....

Love the concept, like the writing, but I'd still dump the adverbs. An unnecessary drag that emasculates strong writing like waving a crutch, always -- nearly.

Originally Posted by 2tomlinson

Love the concept, like the writing, but I'd still dump the adverbs. An unnecessary drag that emasculates strong writing like waving a crutch, always -- nearly.

But I've taken a vow to only write for myself, if the words assemble for me the way I expect them to then they will never change, not for any editor, publisher not even if a well known author makes a suggestion...a writer has to stay faithful to their words or face losing all of them...

Well then, good on you! But why publish if you don't care how effectively you communicate with others? Anyway, we'll let sleeping adverbs lie . . . silently.

Originally Posted by 2tomlinson

Well then, good on you! But why publish if you don't care how effectively you communicate with others? Anyway, we'll let sleeping adverbs lie . . . silently.

Because I was told that if I do what I love for a living I'd never have to work another day in my life....Sadly writing is what I love and it's the only thing I was ever told I was good at, every English teacher I've had told me I should or would be a writer when I got older, many of them kept several of my short stories and essays... I never believed them entirely, I chose other paths, but I never quit writing in my spare time. Now I'm at an age where I realize if I don't make a move to do what I love I'll never be happy....even though writers aren't the wealthiest I view it as my retirement plan, a job I could do through old age.

I agree with your English teachers. I urge you to continuing writing. Good luck.

Originally Posted by maniclion

But I've taken a vow to only write for myself, if the words assemble for me the way I expect them to then they will never change, not for any editor, publisher not even if a well known author makes a suggestion...a writer has to stay faithful to their words or face losing all of them...

You will go the way of rick dees

Originally Posted by 2tomlinson

I agree with your English teachers. I urge you to continuing writing. Good luck.

What kind of work to you do? You're not an English Teacher are you?

No. I'm not an English teacher. Because I went to high school in Iowa, there was no need for me to go to college. So I didn't. I'm sorry if I was teacher-judgmental. It comes from another place. Carry on with your writing.

The night is my cover,
The day, my disguise,
But I just can't seem to escape,
From wondering,judgemental eyes.

They're always watching and waiting,
For that moment you turn your head,
It makes me feel uncomfrotable,
While I'm lying in my bed.

I should'nt leave my house,
Or maybe even my room,
Because they're lurking in every shadow,
Waiting to drop the bomb of doom.

I can't help but avert my eyes,
When I receive an unsteady glance,
They're judging me, I know it,
They'll make fun of me at every chance.

Did I do something wrong,
I don't have a doubt in my mind,
The truth is that in this world,
Sanity is so hard to find

We were together for many years
We became as one
It was like I had your blood running through my veins
We could read each others thoughts
Finish each others sentences
Without saying a word
There is so much I'd like to change
But I can't turn back the hands of time
Your memory will always be apart of me and my heart
I still talk to you
And wonder if you hear
Sometimes I can feel you near
Even in my dreams
My heart can't say good-bye
For it's afraid your memory will die
A part of my heart is with you
And it's yours to keep
Now that you are gone
I'm left to stand alone

Everyone needs to chip in so manic can have one for when he's trippin

Originally Posted by The Situation

We were together for many years
We became as one
It was like I had your blood running through my veins
We could read each others thoughts
Finish each others sentences
Without saying a word
There is so much I'd like to change
But I can't turn back the hands of time
Your memory will always be apart of me and my heart
I still talk to you
And wonder if you hear
Sometimes I can feel you near
Even in my dreams
My heart can't say good-bye
For it's afraid your memory will die
A part of my heart is with you
And it's yours to keep
Now that you are gone
I'm left to stand alone

TS, did you write this? If so, I'm thinking steroids (jesus, not to imply your a user -- I'm speaking hypothetically) may enhance cerebral performance along with the physical. This is the most literate and literary forum on the Internet, fuck the Poet's Corner bullshit. Piss tests for authors -- mark my word, that day's coming.

Originally Posted by 2tomlinson

TS, did you write this? If so, I'm thinking steroids (jesus, not to imply your a user -- I'm speaking hypothetically) may enhance cerebral performance along with the physical. This is the most literate and literary forum on the Internet, fuck the Poet's Corner bullshit. Piss tests for authors -- mark my word, that day's coming.

Funny i do my best thinking at the gym