Latest Message: 2 days, 4 hours ago
- borgondo2 : read her body language. the best book you can try
- borgondo2 : sighed while alive. new, the design. t'was newer than the last time you died
- borgondo2 : here, our hearts were iron rivets... hear their song like clocks moving backwards. There, their notes were pearl and ivory, jade was every iris, and stone persimons that sunk in their chests instead of hearts and bled like wine.
- borgondo2 : breaking through the skyline, she turns back to stars. a dead sky, connected to the depths, the dying underwater canyon. "scrape the stars back up while you are down there," a familiar voice from above. "i knew this would wake you into the dream world," falling out of the black sky into the darker depths
- borgondo2 : signed by fire. designed in the cloudy subconscious of their nano dust.
- borgondo2 : scripted to die. no ending. new beginning to ensue. we already know the end.we already died a thousand times just for a specific extra moment or two
- borgondo2 : if youre telling the world to wait, that old world is already gone
- borgondo2 : if you're telling secrets, they ain't secrets no more
- borgondo2 : how was her face the key? to unlock the dream world
- borgondo2 : sat there so long to be invented, now was old news already
- borgondo2 : to the self that sank in the deep light, submerged but burning
- borgondo2 : dreaming prison, trying to penetrate. that place was easy to forget because it already was in your memory, some how?
- borgondo2 : they'll be singing songs about how ___their world__ is so much fun. we all be inside the rhythm like a coal mine.
- borgondo2 : the most romantic thing about love is when it dies or changes. romance is not a static state. unlike magic the rules are constantly changing, of what it takes in that moment, to keep love on its toes.
- borgondo2 : as much as you can compartmentalize mind body, heart as different. the physical mind still has to live in the physical body, for better or worse. heart same. same heart same space. energy wasted, time lambbbasted
- borgondo2 : gravity's pyramid collapsing. an arc and a cave in a rainbow
- borgondo2 : ...claws like tranquil daggers in the moonlight. calling the sunbeams back from the highest high, inverted sky mountain
- borgondo2 : we'll be singing songs about the burning of the sun, sounds fun, only it was ice all along. sped up the plasma decay, now we're all doomed floating on its debris
- borgondo2 : lets sing songs about the smell of sweat, pretend we have emotions still. maybe a g chord maybe a c or an F this(g)
- borgondo2 : drawing the same past into the stone in its gravity arrows. carved night's reflection on sunbeams with feathers
- borgondo2 : scrawling the same map on the sand where its about to be washed away. like colors from your eyes in a memory
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- borgondo2 : can see the gravity;of the mountains affecting the shadows below
- borgondo2 : zenon in the neon moon beam. argon the deadly dust. new lightning helix. next to nothing reminds like desire. heart beats or the rhythm of the sun trying and trying to move the world again like it used to, outside and transformed like a bird into music
- borgondo2 : new notion at the back of your mind like a blinking screen. staring at the sun, dreaming on the moon. no more change or changing the wheel. time breaks lives. only the dead survive
- borgondo2 : open the muddy tome, locked by subconscious, were all the other possible lives nothing? or was it nothing at the end of time either way, ground down. even these eternal energies, so called beacons, turned to stone and fade to dust. perhaps they could remind us what the light outside the bubble was like. what was the air. where was the sun
- borgondo2 : non electric city, stoned on neutral dust. strings made sound, it didn't last. memories fade. hoping only the spirits might remember. silently pulling the strings until they break
- borgondo2 : perched like a mechanical vulture, with no thought other than to pick flesh from the useless bones. scorns the caldera like the broken mesa, dull and forgotten
- borgondo2 : bigger than their subconscious sea of thought, barely held back, by the city architecture, pulsing, translucent. ....weak, static... broken gray, yet still standing
- borgondo2 : atop the caldera, perching like a vulture, picking apart frozen stars, and dried dead pieces of the sun
- borgondo2 : love, but a figment, of the mind's fixation, one matrix away there were some wires crossed. the magnets of one affecting the electricity of the other. non electric city.
- guest_1835 : something about the mountains eroding now and then, or what they were long ago, makes it seem funny, the energy you put into the earth, like popping a bottle top
- guest_1835 : moving the heat like the mountains about to collide
- guest_9920 : out on the rocks, or making music indoors, with the birds and cats that try to kill them.
- Osvaldodrymn : fog below the earth, a sarcophagus filled with the heaviest of views from all the old worlds
- guest_5737 : snuck into the labyrinth, the smells and sounds, make you forget lavender sky
- Local SEO : each turn of the wheel, place for missing starlight, find a groove or get re-tuned by the sun
- guest_8482 : adjusting the helmet face, the map moves but the sun stays in place
- guest_8482 : hollowed out sound cube, a sandy reminder,glass passages in the endless hallway. spaces next to spaces inside of times
- guest_8482 : tastes wish in a sugarless broken dish
- Graciela Rede : follows the willpower but the arrows in your heart start to impede
- Sheryl Kahl : near this second sky, the days nevered change and you did never ask why
- guest_4090 : there has got to be some way to go back in time. to unleash all these arrows. frozen beacon from peak to peak. washed over, unlevel seas, all but the mountain made to melt
- Tobiasstirm : focused abstractions but the initial intention was dispersed
- guest_7272 : paralell versions, one way time is the vacuum behind the arrow
- Deepu : rhythm.a.constant.answer
- Piper : changing faces in the sounds between different melody.
- Dora Verburen : time not some seconds or a entire download, some different types of spirals, some connected
- Jasper Gell : changing faces in the sounds
- guest_3967 : light-like in the sound, reverberating in the woods where everything is listening
- guest_6627 : luckily there is light and music, and ants for breakfast. ants they died for tastes some other honey
- John Dunning : parallel problems infinite time but running out of...
- guest_2270 : the cancelled out double. another dreamer is less than the last two lost. the way was the same, she just started you moving
- guest_2270 : the cancelled out double. another dreamer in store for you.
- guest_2270 : your world is a steal, lost between two wheel spins of the dreamer
- guest_7378 : onlywhen spun and undone by endlessmystery
- guest_7378 : cracked the heart, something spilled out, light like sound in the woods and nobody's looking
- guest_7475 : u never looked taller than when standing next to her, she said
- guest_408 : when you stop being predictable, remember one is nothing, or at least no better than any other thing, ant or book on the shelf. then there is room for inspiration. then you will surprise yourself and be worse off than you started, thinking you are better than the rock or the sky
- guest_408 : no, where to look and how to find them. only seem to be there because you looked, and how.
- Mike Russel : take this lack of opportunity.....to meditate. seize the day.....let go.
- Vai : this is the oil can igniting itself with a magnetic fire
- guest_1231 : trying to get away from all things having a place and a purpose. cancelled island oasis. what about the music yet to be made, with instruments yet to be invented
- guest_1231 : one man's sanity,another man's paper plate montage of fear and desires, all entirely fabricated. nothing heavier than a soul damned by false desires. nothing more damned and useless than a heavy soul
- Mike Allford : a moderate percentage of links to the lower realms. no more repairs / places to take on water. the spiritual vessel won't make it through the north pole, better find some loophole in the mountains in the equator. deserts or pyramids where they may have been
- guest_2067 : the less you do here, the more intricate the dreamscape. spirit shrugged. getting affected, going out of your way. ways to detract from the abstract. translated,condensed to a rhythm. then just a memory told on replay.the spirit can slide through quicksand without slowing or showing a sign
- Abhi : who can follow you through the memories where you wandered? anyone dead? everyone who downloaded the holographic replay at some store when they scan the carbon harddrives downtown
- Alan : behind the night, magnetic fireballs and a derailed iron railway
- guest_6511 : block the sun please,so that i may look at these
- guest_1623 : she said she wasn't artistic, but i believed her when she said her diamonds sang. not sure if the sound waves could occur under the pressure of these frozen solar days
- guest_959 : into the eyes of the dark-eyed woman. her third eye is your eye. no light and dark inside the crystals of the mind. firing simply firing, different colors.
- Emily Jones : deceptiveness of the new moon just like the old moon but less yellow it used
- guest_6568 : replaced by some newer new, used sundust, burned and gray; when near it still created some other glow - showed the inner plastic coating of your soul
- guest_6568 : water just from dust
- guest_6333 : trace your way back to ask, the same question before the last
- Faustino : sitting in the sky, through a deep dark fluid subconscious, everything was moving from here to there. an effort to be out of place. moving along without the energy to return
- Mike Baldwin : aren't you where you tried this. teleportation. back into place.
- guest_5561 : past and consequence, present and free will. natural and unnatural forces. whats nature is only what you can touch, self derived-tactile
- Mike Ramacey : trains of inertia, compounding the weight of it all. a solitary weight, where no one could ever believe you. alone and emptiness as much as it could make you forget gravity existed, could easily start to weigh you down
- online_jjon : you knew this perception was skewed. one thing outweighs another, despite the disconnect, another separate world. all points in time. shrinking time in an already compressed body.
- Paul : are you looking at each memory, again, from each new viewpoint you have collected? looking out the window or some colorful reflection, same diagonal overlay on the new road drifting
- seed_song : look at each one. decide on form and simplicity.look at each one and. look at each one. look at each. form and simplicity. look. form. look simplicity. the carvings like tiger stripes telling you what they were on
- RaymondCrils : a look at either path to decide, and they have changed, gone the tide, eroded the landbridge of momentary mind's eye
- guest_9807 : the molecules would break. a vapor to escape. program the minds of men. was it the same vision or view? or something next to - about to be unto? certain oxygen trapping information. new old frozen water memories used
- guest_9807 : could fall into her eyes a million times.to burn the world and never see my way out
- guest_9807 : theres nothing new under the moon until shes there beside you, then past, then seemingly always about to look away, but
- guest_9807 : blank moments from day. ripping the memories of those dreams out from the pages of the night
- guest_9807 : broke open from the inside out, only minds could escape, or melt away alike. their world-so undone, to make this one, even their memories and laughter were turned to stone. you too may look through those colors and remember.
- guest_9807 : theres nothing new under the moon until
- Dan : blink moments away. finite lines of lines. not stacking linearly. slits and mixups. wrong lines, sleeping in the factory. a wrong type of emptiness. a different joy factory for fabricated faces.
- guest_9807 : only time across versions colliding......only distance across time, illusion. the improbability, too coincidental
- guest_9807 : something other than.the expansion of space in this place
- guest_9807 : here is the information you requested, where would you like it delivered? internal lining, gold dust, and condensed memories, beading off the glass like humidity
- Dora Verburen : passed through the same illusion, there was no way to leave a trace
- Mike Stevenson : dried by time's spite underground, lines cut and still the same sound
- guest_9807 : fate's broken eyes, and fickle feelings too
- guest_9807 : burn the lights from frameworks, melted phenol into your mindset, dislodged your mindset was a fraud
- guest_9807 : same course through the heavens, same talk in the prelude
- guest_9807 : all the words read like a tatoo on eyes finite reel. thoughts even worse. ripples same sea. counting grains of sand.
- guest_9807 : dreams just the realness of some future imagination display. from so far away even that type of energy was real enough to get lost in. submarine in time's foggy window, forget to clean the glass for get that world entirely
- guest_9807 : burn the same acid of your ego:till the cobalt starts to crack and melt. smelled the same ambrosia from some seventy yards away. her same laughter was still two, maybe three worlds away.
- guest_9807 : the tone of the viewer, reverberating on the glass display
- guest_3659 : the only memories replayed, were the same on the wall where you repainted them. Deceiving yourself on ai, 'quality' of the. distortion. of the. recreation. from your own crystalized hologram
- guest_3659 : the only future is the after-world
- guest_3659 : the only re-player is you. memories facing nothing. in the moonlit afterglow. .....future versions of the same old worlds. future replays. of the same. imagination. rehashed. a few possible. versions of the same alternate world.
- guest_3659 : the only deceiver is you. the only thing at stake is the art of your perception. black mirrors, pools of tar to dip your awareness in. a few free and new moments to. examine beauty as it once was, 'something unknown to you,' yet tangible in your daily......the best case scenario you may plan for, to end up on the distant rocks, listening to new music of birds, trees. away from your possible selfs, move slower, avoid the invisible glances. slower to be faster at absorbing nothing. how could it (another moment there) shake the bedrock, free from another predictable future, make you forget it or buy a whole other white board. dreaming forgetting the other place, having to build it back, or scrap it entirely
- guest_3659 : if time could pass slower, perhaps you could train yourself to perceive it
- guest_2447 : the background noise was tranquil. carving out city memories from mountain starlight
- guest_2447 : trying to melt into the crowd. surrounded by trees
- Kitty Hilyard : various drugs and distractions we offer the actors. tweaking performances in the same concrete play.
- Mike Adderiy : try the company of pigeons. in empty traincars. west for no reason. but starlit roads and the company of slow rollers
- guest_6396 : washing butane with old coffee and molasess,with colorized jazz new york city circa 1934
- Tony : washing the starlight from space
- guest_7229 : above the highway wanderer, where to go? nothing to wait
- Bonnie : Just a time warped magnetic cave. subterranean, some other fumes. Higher than our fire through and through.
- guest_9457 : already trying to go back and know nothing. to the sky frame, anti gravity mountain climb
- guest_9457 : so take the only mirror you been given and forget it. forget the shadows for a minute, here was just another glimmer. the sun is shining somewhere, just as far as your waiting.
- guest_9457 : just a hope for shadows. to be sharing, with shadows in and behind the shadows. something translucent was missing. something about the sun always wandering away. burn these calories so we can go for a run. or wither away in the cave with memories on replay. some of them other people's memories, maybe old, from worlds away.
- guest_9457 : no one thought that was the place they would be. from miles and minutes away, thousands of miles, half a million minutes. displays of free wills, bending their fates so they shine in and out days. just a shimmer or two
- guest_9457 : same connections of miles and minutes, based on probabilities days away. and yet no one is looking
- guest_9457 : grime rate cues. the sterile output behind our city days.
- -b-1-dsca_esv9c26c6e : the same liminal sky behind everything you grew
- -b-1-dsca_esv9c26c6e : how you would edit the sky. things i would know through and through.
- Danielle Simpson : Higher than the fire
- Mike Adamson : This sky service from one day to the next, starlit.
- guest_4389 : from here to eternity, mathematically depicted. eternity between the same damn moments, whether or not they take the millions of moments to look.
- httpswwwgooglecomsea : site terps on the sinai. lebanon in the mystic. cedar in the beauty. something else depictive.
- guest_5538 : hates the phrase and everything rational so it pours acid on this entire sentence
- guest_5988 : get weapons, driving through the sunset. get math inside your brain, these words and music are the same.
- guest_7967 : she made those the same because she had to. the extra scraps of energy, they found their way into this light
- guest_7967 : right to run the star sun. night to run on star fuel.
- Amelia Brown : we stare and wonder why words make anything
- Greg : This is from Wyoming, buried in a specific season. I fell into the grass. I flew into the south. i knew nothing before i was here. now i follow the same old path back and forth. future was a bit more fun when connected to the entire gigantic pst
- guest_7967 : settled on the starlit newness, moon nights in a daylit mind
- guest_5547 : the floral side, for their senses in the greenhouse. ambrosia, like mothers milk for the mind
- guest_2091 : designed to heal the user and sustain eternal life. music was a shape, there are the flowers.....the installation tweaked the environment, added high pressure mito.c.burning oxygen from the inside. pressurized under ground, no, sink beneath the waves. the crooked mountain's gravity
- Mike Raleigh : hard to chart the inception of the deception. was it when we finally killed the half gods? or when the cyborgs noticeably arrived
- guest_2401 : other portion's magnitude, subtle sway of all underway. one less viewpoint to have, the closed window, the live painting of the newer view of the video.
- guest_5969 : beams of light down onto the tracks. .....nearby, the storm drains had changed, the old professor was never coming back. Any other destroyed artist's home. statues of flight, they all still needed positions, less motions. mucho decay
- guest_7589 : was wondering, wandering wondering where you were. now i see that melted rectangle was like the other speckled condensed worlds. now this one is melted Into shape. is it possible that god used to live here?
- guest_6634 : the high and the low of the higher self
- guest_9037 : ants were everything. how that memory will look replayed in the mountains in that cool light
- guest_6200 : other deserts in the tropical oasis mind, trying to steal back minutes from the blue vapor. mind link, looped in a memory replay from hours ago. why return to the moment, why let go
- guest_6200 : other people's gurus, moulding for the fat. the sunrise in your daydreams, the island everyone collectively forgot
- guest_6200 : other people's machines, playing a distant forgotten tune
- guest_9630 : back and forth between moments, in time's dualistic push and pull. you might remember during the sunrise but it would only be for a moment or two
- guest_9630 : cacti eye:'i am indebted to you sir, just for having been in your sunlit presence.' under each eye another butterfly and another tiny rider, submerged in a loophole.
- guest_5593 : that oak over there was a jungle, creeping in the doorway. she told me at that young age, that she, a disembodied nature spirit, was like me, just another wide eyed wanderer
- guest_6912 : blinded by the dark light, but not in the eyes. shared the same air and earth and fire everywhere. metal pin to gague the fluid, slowed like a magnet at the ends of the earth
- guest_5142 : broken what was thinking. what was -- thinking about. where to strain your energy in looking. the eye would twist and construe only depth.
- guest_5142 : tied time like light beams, broken bricks touched the same top of mountains. inside they were looking the same. inside the moonlight so near the mountains.
- guest_3412 : internal light like colored lining. no eyes needed,the apocalypse in the aftermath
- guest_3412 : star lacks star lust. dust shards of light
- guest_145 : brink of the dream about to replay. endlessly try again, changing one detail. if you pushed or pulled it would fall apart.
- guest_145 : arose for the rose, to feel the thorn from the background. colored words. painting lilac frequency, on all the ways the bees went. painting manic recency on all the re-written history. thorn carved colors behind your eyelids
- guest_1845 : there they had no secrets for the world was the bigger mystery constantly trying to unravel and spin back another impossible frequency
- guest_1845 : why would the light, be hiding in pools, in cottages reflections, of those had been too long inside
- guest_1845 : someone had the last look. broke into the open mountain filled sky. they had done a lot of work, since the last time you'd been wandering by
- guest_1845 : someone altered the end of that white light mural i started. same skylight. same comfortable abode with half walls. didn't bother to look at that sky. noticed they had all started to come back again
- guest_4240 : became visible a minute or two. the hand that held the pin that cracked the glass on into the timeless world
- guest_4485 : just fly east till the sky turns blue. the plane will malfunction and you'll know you've broken through.
- guest_2345 : if you approach the refuge or castle and it is locked and empty, then you are in someone else's dream. Retrace your steps and pay close attention to details. it is a world without death, therefore it is a bland gray world, with very little newness or change. would you go: to the portal in the mountains, even if it was so hypnotic enticing translucent, no one had ever returned
- guest_2285 : only focused on the frame of the house, inside the walls, not the faces or what was there to remember. Just the warehouse itself and the sense of repetition, not the fact that it was the castle where everyone lived.
- guest_2285 : some display of a place impossible to depict. too free to remember, but too new to forget.
- guest_5213 : connected,but broken like sight lines, up and over. no new way to fly in this heavy light. could already imagine, that view from above. so all peaks might know, or use the mirror too. no valleys here, just an endless fight: to climb these rock hard clouds, just to forget.frozen and shrivled bird fingers.broken tools from down in that cave. Not to greet the sun or blackened sky up close, but to chip away at the inner black layer inside the sun. to start an endless, likely impossible task. not to destroy the sky,forget how to fly.to remember a world outside of it or lit from within.
- guest_5213 : fat rainbows, carrying, or creating, that chunky light. same valley. different overflowing hills. mixed then held back like tides
- guest_1938 : time, around, laid around. without the sun, in some other gravity they designed to push you outward. towards the loopholes of awareness in the sun and sky. under sea of forgetting. crystals sinking in mud.
- guest_9984 : 27 weeks but not even half the year.summer and winter don't drive through time the same way(around here). both Cut through the sky using its glass stars like record needles, sun or moon a broken speaker. using some time lapse recency to overshadow some old world discrepancies. all alike(?)they drift into the north star hoping that summer would take them forever. to them it might look like a column of light, to us just a massive black hole
- guest_9225 : new this time and just as it was. all the newer heartbeats, songs about the same nowhere place to be. more off in the distance than still trapped indoors. then in the distance, running, fading from view. Giving off brave new interesting mold as you die, old, a new way, moment by moment. young and new, for time, that was it's only view
- guest_9225 : not time; and just as it was. a newer heartbeat, a nowhere place to be. more indoors than in the distance. you were always off in the distance, running, fading from view, old or young and new, for time, that was it's only view
- guest_735 : not time, just the ability to move for a moment or two. nothing you had, or that you were. only sorted on the aftermath, by means you could not fathom.had time to remember, imagine.
- guest_4270 : within arsenals of grandeur, they held your head under some extra dimension of imagination, scrambling like for breaths. or a need for 3d space in a 4d world. Your memory, that frame of reference, so fixed, for what the world should be, it was wiped. what you too could do to create a spark in that void, even that potential spark was held beyond the reach of your imagination's fingertips' peering eyes. they make their meeting with shores of skies and sea. what your mortal eyes knew is erased from view and memory. the character in your eyes' motions, most of all, is wiped from what they use of this world. all they need is used, fit it into their dominion. burned is the remainder, with no trace of smoke or heat.
- guest_3591 : with an arsenal of grander designs, held beyond the reach of your imagination's fingertips, the sky-Gods make their meeting with shores of skies and sea, erased from view and memory, your mortal view, most of all, is wiped from what they use of this world. all they need they fit into their dominion, the rest is burned without a trace of smoke or heat.
- guest_3591 : whole theme of chaos and re-order.with arsenals of grandeur, the sky-Gods make the meeting of skies and sea their dominion
- guest_3188 : people in the sky city don't care about the rolling tides or the floating city at sea level. they simply want to forget the underground palaces and how they used to dream in there. And for some, mostly they try to forget their lives here, in what they call the shadow realm
- guest_3188 : impossible to deny when+how time clicks its gears and you finally hear its silent clunk.for time to tell you to move, 5words.or.less.you'd have to be listening to nothing or everything, lost in any of those cosmic underbellies to choose from
- guest_3188 : time to tell you to move
- guest_3188 : lit from the way it used to be, memory burns opaque colors, not just the sounds, things you both were thinking. That little circle o' hers went 'round the world. Probably off into the unknown in a straight line, and then i forgot something key. some embrionic paradox, complex as something only a certain glance could tell, and yet basic as a pebble you had walked by a thousand times, in a mix, but failed you did, to flip it over and see the cosmic underbelly that would have kept you gazing your time away in a nearby spot just long enough for....
- guest_3188 : polystylene green dead life essence in the sweet fumes. those were rocky hands, formed before the dew was concrete. Much much earlier in the lightning morning. Towards the end of that time,covered in dewy silence, some ways to earn another sleep
- guest_3188 : bronzed from a sundance, new to nothing, a view is true in how it finds you finding yourself, looking through the epi-genetic prism, some ball of light, some patch of grass
- guest_468 : time wasted in a dreamless land... was time in the dreamworld spilling through your hands.... grain of sand by grain of sand
- guest_468 : light from the way it used to be, not just the sounds. her little circle went around the world, and probably off into the unknown in a straight line.something like a glance might have told me
- guest_468 : time is an envelope, inside its own designs
- guest_468 : people in the sky city don't care. they simply don't want to remember.for most they try to forget their lives here, in what they call the shadow realm
- guest_468 : polyethylene green life essence even in the deadly fumes. these are the rocky hands that formed before the dew was concrete, much earlier in the morning...at that time, all covered in dewy silence, just some way to earn another sleep
- guest_468 : break through the causeway to far under bed-rock, dressed in the low flying atmosphere, in the clouds and quite near the top of them
- guest_468 : could feel that low pressure building, or whatever it was leaving, draining the words out and away from my infinite memory, electronically
- guest_468 : done in selves, selfless shadow of the blueberry mountain hue. a human waste, left behind. pick up on personality hues, reminder of all you had left to do.
- guest_457 : alive then melted? Or did not quite round itself into form? form as we'd like to believe. form was our arms to fight it, or legs to run away from the answer. Only if the answer was, there was no form, only your desire to believe.
- guest_457 : some foreknowledge of this time, from some prior world
- guest_4567 : is the ice returning? where all the water droplets did go, while under a steely gaze of later winter moonlight
- guest_4567 : is the rain stopping? hollowed out from the nerves. take steps to break the stairway, and analyze dust as it settles on all your old strategies.
- guest_4567 : aimed to recreate, subdued, yet it was....what could we take from out of ourselves? Selves shed like shells, another taste of that treasured fruit was not all we'd be getting back
- guest_4567 : how was it you could know, how far out there, to reside, without having some glimpse of the unknown, some hint at a lost flavor or smell from within the unknowable. surely too far to return. back to these scraps of the known.piled here as if they encompassed the whole universe
- guest_4567 : harder to find someone to believe it was all real, back then when you found it. harder still to find someone to understand why, why you would ever want to tell. what else was holding up their belief. just words as they were before, echoes in a hollow unknown
- guest_4567 : eventually all rocks on the surface... became to be destroyed... indistinguishable like grains of sand.... if you look long enough you may will yourself to find two identical
- guest_4567 : what could we recreate with ourselves. shells of selves, not all we'd be getting back
- guest_4567 : Subdued, if it was. Contained, like all we tried to take back. / If it was, it was only, all there was to sustain us.
- guest_4567 : Contained in the same flask, subdued, with all we tried to take back. It was only, all there was to sustain us. Merely, our sole lifeline, out beyond the vision. Between the pixels, of each color we steeped out from our old vision, Grainless emotion, which could not be stored. Ephemeral, eschewing all later proof, its remainder, or indescribeable effect, if it had on us, was still all we had to guide us. How to guide ourselves: To recreate some new depiction of a hypothetical, potential future's temporary map. Also one you could burn or let sink. Could not fully remember or forget. A reminder Ingrained in old teak: Don't use that same hope, on the ocean ever giving anything back
- guest_4567 : subdued and contained in the same past, we all fit together, tied into some lies about depth, the confines of our limited reality. Rulers liked fences everyone shared. Queen ants had colonies that barely fit under the dusty, too visible sky. Another iron bar hologram,trapped by a past we all let die. Laugh no matter why, before dipping our hands in again for some wet sand. From that, try to rebuild a foreign structure.
- guest_4567 : Subdued, contained in the same past. all we tied together, some lies about the depths, confines, or limits to reality. Rules like fences no one shared. Ants and colonies that fit well under the invisible sky.an iron bar hologram. free hearts we let pass. a past we nearly did align. our dripping hands again in some wet sand. from this we rebuild a temporary structure
- guest_4567 : time passes in nature, but it was not watching you, too far behind sets of doors. Being a part of yourself, you were already wired in, to the same likely, yet disconnected future.
- guest_4567 : time passes as you were watching nature, watching you, watch it, being a part of yourself.
- guest_4567 : Open minds spaces between eyes. just a reflection, pale upon the shadow behind you. Always alone, another watchful visitor dines much later; inside another sunrise together with you.
- guest_4567 : subdued, contained in the same past. all we tied together, some lies about the depths, confines, or limits to reality. rules like fences no one shared. ants and colonies that fit well under the invisible sky (iron bar hologram). a past we all let die, before dipping our hands in again for some wet sand from which to rebuild a foreign structure
- guest_4567 : subdued, contained in the same flask, and all we tried to take back. but only: all there was to sustain us out beyond the vision. in the colors we steeped from our old vision, all we had to guide us or recreate some new depiction of. a hypothetical. a potential map. also one you could burn or let sink, don't use the same hope, on the ocean ever giving anything back
- guest_4567 : Opener minds' spaces between eyes. reflection, pale, alone dines the watchful visitor. her tea was the future, and all you saw in the outlying areas
- guest_4567 : Out in an expanse beyond our minds, with no gravity, no space between projections: you burned all your air, just remembering how to make fire.
- guest_4567 : And yet since the beginning of time, out in your tide mind's space, time dies, line, by fulfilling line. By the dirt in times cracks, our ingrained memories tell all they can.
- guest_4567 : Yes, since the beginning of time, but if youre wide awake time flies by, and the space before time seemed to fly by as well
- guest_4567 : subdued by your moments lack of angles. to view outwardly, back where you came from. To look back at that stagnant core. Seen how it was bombarded by ever piercing, future un- known. So distant and alone, when separated from all these moments moments, coming in to try to ressurect again the same dead old core; Preserved in decay, A dim fire still lit in its heart. Or so were the hopes of the even more lifeless machines. in the past, you remarked, how beautiful it was to exist there. All your moments relivable. don't you like how it was the still the future, asked your favorite friend among all the robots there. They could always recreate the past, ever so precisely.
- guest_4567 : anchored to this Earth, only a vision and a subtle pulse. Not as near, either, and not this earth. The slower pulse across that intermittent ravine. voided, another vision, you tied your eyes to. the weight stole your mind entirely anew once again
- guest_4567 : breaking lines on the sky frame. hooked on connections and a lack of perceptions
- guest_4567 : transcribed by the ocean,its open window; a view towards these starless pulses
- guest_4567 : subdued in the moment, a lack of outer angles from which to view an ever piercing future. known in the past, how beautiful it was to exist there. every moment relivable like it was the future, still.
- guest_4567 : estranged from positions, liminal pulses flow freely, no spirits so slow, no hands to feed them.
- guest_4567 : deranged by suggestions, of where the mind to wander. affected by affectations, and somehow some truth reflected in infinite disconnected reflections. truth of loss or truth of time
- guest_4567 : anchored to the earth by a vision and a subtle pulse. not as near, not this earth, either. a slower pulse across an intermittent ravine. another vision you tied your mind to, and stole your mind entire.
- guest_4567 : beckoned by the same stations. no one came to watch these moments all fall. destined by resignation. hopeless summer interludes, spring winter fall
- guest_4567 : transpose these faces in a wall
- guest_4567 : weakened by history, seething thru and thru, your body always remember the odd yellow sun, from somewhere before memory was such a thing, structural, as the very iron and carbon holding up your body
- guest_4567 : died for wine, win the game of life and forget it ever happened, put back the moments on one of the other shelves
- guest_4567 : dried by time, nothing is water when your purity is desire, emptying time out of time
- guest_4567 : cryptic thoughts that never unwound, they themselves hidden in underneath,not the process to take them or put them back. Despite your metal body you fought the canyon memory and the reflective eyes you found deep underground
- guest_4567 : rhymes that took up too much time, the same rides, you paid less to unwind. clock was ahead, anytime you went near the canyon there was that magnet pull from below
- guest_4567 : the sky with tales from these alternate ozones. the winds in the cave swept your mind along,back down: to those autonomous broken zones.
- guest_4567 : no sense for the next: of these drones to come back from
- guest_4554 : land had a beginning but wouldn't be there the time you tried
- guest_4554 : no one had been there, but no one that could even say they tried
- guest_4554 : impenetrable blackness, or no one has been there, or no one has returned, waiting for the fire light to brighten, to start to penetrate some of that darkness, or just waiting till this dim fire light is not quite enough anymore, to keep the wandering mind from finally trying to go out there. the sky always had some light, deep underground was where nothing ever returned. forgetting why the light at the beginning of the tunnel had never been enough either.
- guest_4554 : no light in the end of the tunnel, just a fire you started, at the edge of blackness, where nothing exists after the end of the tunnel
- guest_4554 : no light at the end of the tunnel, just a fire you recently started. perhaps just a mirror or some ghosts of yourself you used to recognize
- guest_4648 : catapulted into the moment's moments, unsure where they could go
- guest_4648 : keeping the silent broadcast from our (soul)wind-blown minds, barely able to hang on. never able to (fully)let go. eventually disintegrated into the air to drift up with some one's summer sunbeams.
- guest_4648 : cant talk about a dream, keep silent for our brainwashed hearts, built to die not ever told why.
- guest_4648 : still walking this path, unsure when it started.... blinded by the clouds as they parted, reminded of where it went
- guest_4648 : traced from the stack to the front of the Act didn’t know you were part of all the watchers acts.sleeping on a white stone slab by the hibernating ocean. waiting for the wind that shook you awake. shook them all apart like dried seeds. down upon dead neon sand. blacklit toes. green sunshine underground,below blueberry hills. pieces of the same memory, shattered and scattered, no longer connected holographically
- guest_4648 : guarded like her....one way home... images like garments....the naked backlit portion of the mind
- guest_2474 : wrong cue, no subjection. one place for testing out inaction.
- guest_2474 : broken views, its not a gallery, she only goes here alone.
- guest_7419 : overused like her jewelry, the painted pictures on a wall where no one goes
- guest_7419 : brined in chance,steeped in available ability,of the room to become a kaleidescope to all the other worlds next to these
- guest_5205 : rolling away, the distance of memory, as fixed as the view of the entire earth from far away
- guest_398 : turn that drop of water back into a stone, around the bend and away from your home
- guest_5386 : barely even a distance,over time
- guest_7758 : drinking electrically the unseen motion of the discarded universes, long after they finish twitching and crackling there on the dry scorched paved plain earth. still no stillness. imperceptible on the a reflective metal sheet to incinerate time and the old salty remnant of their ocean. all that beauty and memory of reason, vaporized for the sky, just spit and food slurped up through a fly's mouth tube.
- guest_441 : when time burns itself out, lost and without all reason
- guest_441 : solidity of the ocean, not moments, they use them now, still. when time burns itself out, even they will wander alone for awhile, whispering to themselves in a new language, until it makes sense
- guest_538 : edgewise in the eyes, a painted stone in the ozone
- guest_538 : framing, a border in their minds
- guest_538 : covered by the wind, broken ripplesin the sky
- guest_538 : while night washes away all the pale dreamers, a fully frozen moonlight flies endlessly, alone, above its own melted pools of light. Their same forest clouds, silent clouds once filled with sound
- guest_538 : taking back time's arrow from deep underground
- guest_538 : legend of these wings of sound
- guest_538 : the blackened sun did pause there in that moment, but had anyone else seen it or had their memories been erased
- guest_5383341 : because night deceives all the other deceivers, its the only pure place for these stars to shine
- guest_6626 : you'll have to get to freedom the first time. without knowing the way. to know you're lost, on a journey that could take forever, not to look or know the way. any one thing can be so captivating, as you start to look, you can never let go. it becomes like another whole earth to tie you down.
- guest_6626 : traced for those travelers, their map will be no good by morning, a way to follow the sky,gazing deep but not so much to get swept away. the shooting stars could make you slip into another dream, you're progress gone. you'll never make it up and out of the valley. onto the other plain. the ground itself was familiar and would show the way, but it too did shimmer and could take you away, in a rock or sand crystal grain, all so easily. memory is not your friend here. you'll have to get to freedo
- guest_3178 : some lost lights, some internal skies, or just a hole in that whole thing you call a brain, how it holds it up, the hologram itself in front of this or that other world
- guest_9745 : lead those travelers to civilization, up in the mountains or down through the desert, an artificial aurora, but the people you met there made it feellike it had always been
- guest_9745 : walking off in that door through the clouds, touching down in some sand castle grove. winter was a memory we tried to forget, like that of the broken pyramids that once did paint the sky
- guest_9745 : broken lights, one dream more than you can remember
- guest_9745 : translucent sights, one layer more than a memory
- IncalculableData : Once a snowy dream by Shadow sharp and keen Whispered ancient blight to a boy of painted sight His Innocent eyes, unwillingly glean The sound of darkness the nightmare streams. A Dreary morrow, a shaded sorrow The boy gives his brush to barrow. Where Shadow there’s Light, a valiant knight! Not sent to plea or plunder The grace of God his armor, his steed the sun and thunder By purpose hollowed, gallant in soul The right seat of God anoints in full A Crusade thus created, For God’s child
- IncalculableData : Once, a snowy dream lead shadow sharp and keen and whispered
- guest_9757 : break this gaze into your open bowl, fruit and notions we dried. it resonates when you look the way it does. even the dry dead wood does remember, their stories, those sugars, those staring contests with nature
- guest_9757 : take one of these hourglasses and use it as a spyglass smashed
- guest_9830 : pale universe, soft metal source. hollow endless outcomes, infinite freedom
- guest_6342 : or that one about; fate chooses you, or not? defines... nothing?puts into a display,all you could do to jump back into its way
- guest_6342 : between the cracks of theblues,green,and sights and sounds you use,pouring those sounds into the cracks of the blues and new memories you use;to predict analyze and enact all possible future streams where dreams might be unearthed like a boulder or grain
- guest_6342 : forgetting those memories were forgotten, or where those songs could have lead. an imaginary recollection, of where imagination might have been and gone. not a passionate glimmer in a void of hope, the hope that glimmer could turn into a spark, between the inanimate cracks of the void
- guest_6342 : were about the songs unmade. the blue or green you used, in all you can see and hear.
- guest_6342 : sad because they
- guest_6342 : (framed landscape)seeking some new angle on a new internal view. ego view, the mirror askew back to view and review the. magnetic shards it liked to pick up, with its flat metal body.
- guest_6342 : confessin to the blues, i aint got no part of my mind, just seeking, seeking some new angle on a meaningless view. ego view the mirror askew. walk in comparing and contrasting. confessing everything was once the same, then using new glasses. now its always different, i forgot i put on these new glasses again and again. i remembered the same, and then you chose to listen. you can confess your blues to a rock, it will listen just the same, perhaps better. these songs were only sad beca
- guest_8326 : Create me a poem about confession
- guest_6342 : isolation in recognition ..... on the outside, sayin we could see beyond our reality for more than a second.outside range of closing ur eyes. no difference between a dreamer and a psychic, just a different place to want to be
- guest_6342 : good for the tattered streets, she broke her back and was combined with the pavement
- guest_6342 : cracks in the pavement wore the only way we walked. diamonds to wash off and use again, not memories just eyes went crazy ways or everywhere
- guest_6342 : another peice of the hologram spawned from a prior dissection
- guest_6342 : how can that moon-view see through its own reflection?
- guest_6342 : writing letters for someone else to send, never..................or to never, and ever not a land to dwell and imagine spaces within
- guest_6342 : Nothing counted more than anything, everything counted less
- guest_6422 : forgetfulness is your friend on these dimensionless shores
- guest_4331 : do you believe in that 'color' of magic? all those colors at once....... hard to imagine unless you saw it in a dream once, then quite easy, like thinking all your thoughts at once endlessly for the rest of your time, instead of all chopped up and thrown into separate momentary clay pizza moments
- guest_4331 : your eye in the open window, only gets so far for the broken.glass
- guest_4331 : your eyes in the closed in windows, only get so far as the open glass
- guest_4331 : regret.not.the.future.cause its not happening
- OldBoy : He's stumbling
- OldBoy : Shivers down his spine
- OldBoy : Another man down the steets
- OldBoy : The copper shoots a far cry
- OldBoy : The metal vibrating
- OldBoy : Under the wood stick crushing
- OldBoy : Feel the high hat crumbling
- OldBoy : Hip Hop and Jazz measure
- OldBoy : Human nature
- OldBoy : Made of the thing they talk about
- OldBoy : Shadows made of grey matter
- OldBoy : Unleah the beast in a deep hole
- OldBoy : Those who move throug a dark void
- OldBoy : As now I speak for the dark ones
- OldBoy : Who's left awake ?
- OldBoy : So here we lay some poetry ?
- OldBoy : Hey
- OldBoy : Hey
- OldBoy : Hey
- guest_4333 : times in the left barn,stable in forest land with horses
- guest_4333 : notions still rumbling,please give your eyes back to me
- guest_4333 : mountains are crumbling, dyes are in the sea.
- guest_4333 : dried wings few other things,
- guest_4333 : just touch time in this broken stone, now, once was a memory
- guest_4333 : had to have it take effect for it to be noticed, registered here. we were apart from the same force that destroys us, drifting to separate points, alone with your back against the light, alone to be watched by the shadows, only the ones you created, you hoped. there you had to destroy the city you built. there where memory was not a thing. so you could come back this way. build anew. with fresh perspectives in a muted 5d world
- guest_432 : had some awareness but lost it (last moment somewhere).think back, how was that last moment the first you could remember
- guest_432 : had some solidity, but awareness was the sea itself, unlike in that bubble, that glass candle under a pressurized sea
- guest_432 : shaky fingers held one moment by its disintegrating handle, one infinitely broken and frozen memory, a condensed version you wouldn't leave behind, infinite memories of those imprinted hologram's plastic wrappers, infinite space for these things to happen, and be preserved forever some distance within a quiet fog
- guest_431 : held one moment by its disintegrating handle, one memory infinitely broken and frozen, a condensed version you couldn't leave behind, infinite memories of those imprinted holograms, deep within a quiet fog
- guest_431 : all i had was memory,there was no recording, some reordering but no pre-aging
- guest_431 : just keep touching, in that world only the smoothest stone will painstakingly softly reveal the images you seek
- guest_4351 : timed the sign to the meaning too, so you'd never notice
- guest_4351 : because this one had begun, another one is left behind....part of a still burning but useless dead sun
- guest_443151 : because another one began, this one imploded,part of a still burning but useless dead aluminum can sun
- guest_443151 : you're just seeing memory, hoping it one day again will be me
- guest_443151 : had it existed before, could you create it and not even know
- guest_443151 : you just keep dreaming but no-one seems to care... breaking into the attic - examining everything you find there
- guest_443151 : dont know, i just dont know what time it is there on your world - where you wear these skies like sunglasses, making new memories break - like beaches between broken dreams
- guest_443151 : dont touch just keep breathing these forgotten dreams as such
- guest_4451 : touch ample suggestion in the mindlit cloud that blocked your eye
- guest_4421 : just suck up the air you need till dying, any song is just as real as the next, its just an accurate depiction of the creator, what were you again?
- guest_4421 : nothing is real nothing can be known, everyone is in a bubble hit by 2d recreations, the song is wrong and noone is listening
- guest_4421 : who knows i think nothing is out there, i wish time would go by slower but this stupid song should end right now
- guest_4421 : am somewhat sure someone is out there, but i think it'll take awhile and the Bpm is a bit high
- guest_4421 : im pretty sure someone's out there, not sure how long it'll take think itll take too long or the beat is too slow
- guest_4421 : dont want you to watch me dying, but i come back for one taste more
- guest_44 : can you combine the beams? two eyes piercing space and time. to maybe touch something that could not be seen
- guest_41 : in the conspicuous data stream, an obvious error in code displayed the man's hand as an arrow.....pointing to where he wanted to be.............palms open to the sky above.............with a twisted thumb to everything that once was
- guest_41 : bowls of clouds, a valley away. fingertip on the forgotten phrase. how you knew the world some moments ago
- guest_41 : time flip flopped between deaths, thinking back, now looking ahead
- guest_41 : take it apart from beginning to end. to dissect your old self, so as to let it end. vendors in time. like a dose of a desired death, briought on by a something from the other realms.
- guest_41 : real on time. are you on this reel? see you in the next picture, motion, static and so open its empty
- guest_41 : they have meaning because they're visible, computer forecast; low visibility in your world,nearby, then mostly clear or mostly cloudy you couldn't tell which
- guest_41 : 'oh ur so compact i think i can put you in my phone.' I wrote you these two messages but im still sitting here all alone. "
- guest_41 : take me lonely by the hand, to the only river.only the new winds would remember. putting their old minds behind that lightning way out at sea
- guest_414 : disable these broken wings, only fly in one circle
- guest_414 : will she tell me when its over? let sweet death come flowing in. won't you disable my wings? dispose of this body as trash
- guest_414 : where was it? it wouldnt last thru the changing of the worlds. shadows of hands across hands. anchors and letters across the river.another bearing on the heading of time,destination arc,arrow. too narrow and non-deliberate. try to carve the next words out of sheer bedrock.took longer to recreate. this whole inner world was an imitation.it couldn't help but become twisted.
- guest_6414 : break through this trance, by the time you reach the surface,and forget. what could prevent your remembering. just trying to forget how you failed to act? do anything? or become fully awake? where were those special drops of liquid, still solidified in those brain channels? some reflections,on water droplets, further down the cave, you were able to shine some electric light of your own, otherwise there was no escape
- guest_6414 : see used,to be dry.all parts as narrow. as two folds of an infinite sky
- Sw33tT86 : hi
- guest_6414 : it wouldnt last. cause it wasnt even a moment, over there they just give youthese fucking sound waves to get blasted by or to slowly unravel or analyze, sound you could look at, hold in between your hands, and reverse or make forward the time or replay. it held you there forever. you had to haveyour memory wiped to even agree to come back here. to this slowly pulsating light. every strand had a separate hologram and every hologram had one peice or detail that lead back into the whole, the begi
- guest_6414 : just called to see if you were back from your two week vacation, gone to fix your phone. do you live on that island all alone? i dont expect you to show your dreams tome,but how about somethingyou made? something they made you make somehow
- guest_6414 : gone retire to the afterlife, you wont see me till im back with my dead wife, in the back of the garden, there yet not. back with grandpa's knife to give bACK TO the kid that stole it
- guest_6414 : your fear? their eyes were peeled behind the glass.... looking at you. watching your every move. in the best way possible, they all were..... staring directly at you,,,, endlessly with wider open eyes.... behind those fairy bright shadows, only their darkest of designs
- guest_6414 : just wanted it to last..... that moment between her two glances at you
- guest_6414 : always regret not knowing. always regret not finding out. what was regret? shadow lines across those dim lights, those forerunners of hidden possibility
- guest_6414 : images from the quarry, was it free will if these stones only had so many possible uses? how many shapes did it take? to call it infinite? or finite.could you only dream up what youhad already touched?howcould youknow her in the dark where your eyes had nothing to imprint
- guest_6414 : get the symbiosis of meaning.... connections behind the strange new symbols.... get the meaning and then give it back, before it changes.
- guest_6414 : get the symbols straight,,,,before heading underground. blasted by a steamvent your eyes may recalibrate. your words readjust to the old words, ..........or new words you mistakenly thought you forgot long ago. the repetition without the sun, it was hard to remember in the dark, what was a memory and what was cut off from where it came from. carved a new form of stone understanding....a repurposed fantasy of the mind
- guest_6421 : cat sleeping out in the rain. forget her fuzzy cold wet fur, she is warm,you loved her once before
- guest_6421 : body. dead. or only one part missing. now broken down. forever. to need a belt. or to break a thought. why memory disintegrated into possibility again. too fluid. gas.oil.waater. how. is a static location worse than this disembodied death
- guest_6421 : that bird starts singing another harder song to see if you are really a blue bird of his kind
- guest_6421 : it wont, ,,,,but......take this, will take away the pain u couldn't ever feel till it was gone
- guest_643 : its up against the wall. no one listens, no one knows where you go
- guest_643 : but is it magic? do you know where you go when you close your eyes?
- guest_643 : to come up against that window, to see a closer view pass before your eyes
- guest_6425 : guess our intentions, we swell to see the sea thru our own eyes, a wave, a broken window, filled with glass, a new suggestion, a temptation let pass before your eyes, come back to land, see who is still alive
- guest_6425 : feeding our intentions into the sun, for a glimpse of some timeless world
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