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Banner by ~ The Wife of Rengoku
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Normal, right?

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and I just Ate the Lot

Please leave the chicken by the side of the road and tell us what lapsed it. I know of no corners that would tell them and they know no vertices. I only know of straight lines. It's all I see, so they can't get a fact out of me. Don't some lines intersect and make explosive corners? In my neutral world, no. Only implosive parallel lines exist. Now that I've explained that, let's move the dresser; I'm sure the smiling faces will be angered.   Don't you just hate it when that lead pipe you just

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An Anxious Mind

Stop, please. These potatoes don't fit right! Nothing does and I have had it up to here with the pounding of a rock. Just cease all of these fibres and be done with the washing. If you don't, then I will smash in your face with a loaded bookcase. I'm scared, I'm scared, I'm scared of the floor. I don't want to feel the slush and the slish of the world on my damned face any longer! I want to go to sleep. I want to sleep on a marshmallow, mountain range and sing a song of a comforting environment.

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From me to you...

Dear Steak, Why do they kill for a grave or a pencil? They should be fighting for a pen. The pencil is the colours of both rice and rat vomit. Repulsive. But I could never see a steak fight along with them. Tender, soft, easy to sunder. Why do you have to be way, steak. What have the lords of hell ever done to you? Put itching powder in your drawers. Pathetic! Here they are, in war and you lie there complaining about being itchy.     P.S   And don't reply to me with 'moo', you rotting clump

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Yummy :D

Let the structure bleed into the veins of textures. I don't hope to see them inject the veins into my liver. "Them" being the wicked screwdrivers and my oranges. God not the oranges. I need the oranges for the sake of being ill. If I am not ill, then how will I paint a house with green candles. Green candles are the perfect choice for mathematicians. Green plus candle equals crime. See what I mean? I'm sure you do.   Food for a penny is not a penny in my manual. It's a dollar. Why must we try

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It's short.

My window shattered! My sanity blanket, corrupted with rusting nuisances of a past. The window was my crutch. My friend. Damned brain! You shattered it. It was you!   Who me? I never shattered your window. I am your window. You shattered me. It was you who corrupted the blanket. You dropped the crutch. Hah! You can't bring it back together now. Let the panic begin.   I panic because I forget. Mice gone forever. Never to return to my cage again.

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Smile and Wave

Smile and wave to the red, glass cube that tried to slaughter your family. It wants all the eateries it can get, so it does not grow into a mushy sphere. Mushy like apple-sauce or lead. Squishy, mushy lead. Too bad it can't hear the oracles who speak against it's heroic ways. Even the chauffeur wants to hug it.The palm trees rise across the sky to threaten the puppy. Raining down their coconuts upon him. The puppy can't slither away. It got caught in air, so it must read the red, glass cube a be

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Crunchy Error

Error... Error... Error. The knight fell before me and the floating smiley face came above him to send him off to the land of the predictable. The land of null variables and flavourless integers. The knight hovered through the television static and earmuffs. Hovering away to this land where he will dine with a dragon and a robot who speaks octet. Smiling embers are in his favour, after all. But if the algorithmic function of his being is inverted, then he will be the dragon and the robot will b

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Morning Thyme

I let the tea rub between the ridges on my fingers like a mad wallet. Then he lets the drippy run dry and makes the candles feel like silk. We sunk a ship tomorrow and everyone will drown yesterday. Time is more nonsensical than two and two making four and the pit of the peach must have gone really deep to see that high up. Even perception of height is illogical here. In this room, everything is a party. Everyday, every night. Logic sits in his corner of the room looking at his feet with a gun i

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Steel Fever...

I wondered why the porch always coveted the trails of dead men. What was he hiding beneath his supports and beneath his frame. Was he faulty? Was he not in line like the rest of the house. Did he like to rot on purpose or did was he just ill. Either way, he kept the cereal box open to long and now my toasties are stale. I don't like stale toasties. They are soothing. Like tea. Only more handsome. Handsome toasties they are, yes?   My hand blew up with a steel fever and It was quite beneficial

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Who knows why... *shrug*

We saw him slice a piece of couch cake and listen to the radio as loud as he could. He would dial for the phone when the phone was a regular phone. Such a corn rebel. I heard he likes to toss the water buckets in the fish tanks out of the island to see what kind of televisions he can catch. He only caught a small LCD. But who cares, right? The lemurs praised him for it and so did the sighing cirrus clouds in the heavens above. I met him in the middle of a football field during a swaddle warning.

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My Dog

Please corner the fear and accept the hate of the volley ball. We can negotiate with it when my pet comes back from the mental hospital. He spat on 43 coffee cups and lost the 23 dollars I gave him for his birthday and they diagnosed him with amnesio-spittism. He spends his day beating the wall of a dead man in the back room of the cafeteria. Then he sleeps on top of the hospital provided clothing that belonged to now deceased patients. I think my dog is normal. Says the watermelon who mooed dur

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