personal afflictions Archives - Page 32 of 35 - All The Wrong Topics dot com

Tulsa backwards is ‘a sluT’

medusae_asudaem

out of Context;
‘topics through the mind meat, somewhere deep that can never be touched by human hands, but torn apart with a simple command…we might have the impossible journey stillborn in our hands, but, goddamn-it!!!, we are good people…yet, where is this fascinating syndrome i have come to feel?…’




the old excuse maker…

indecision abounds, and I can’t clear the ol’ noggin, friends… gaps in time lead me to be less than fruitful, and I can’t help but classify myself in these retarded constraints, even when I know I am not that terrible… Just uncomfortably lazy…
Devil and Faust Parody




that resin left.

Kismet for the dying culture in the unquenchable age of thirst and famine for knowledge.




the philosopher owned

‘surface…the sense…to make sense…’




the carnage of pop.

out of Context;
‘pop implies that a cataclysm of conformity will bake us inside of our skulls in a way that we shall never really recover from.’




i refuse the humble opinion

‘whose…to deter…the sleeping becomes…’




grinding hell among us.

un-poetry-for-the-un-fucked-un-dividual…




13 drafts…

it crept and leaps through the ear and the eye constantly…




the 666 words

out of Context;
‘the tunnel grows sharp as it inserts and asserts itself in the anatomy of gesturing symbols… they twist apart and leave their striking point in the conscious plane… it changes from mouth to mouth for a chance to stick somewhere that it has never been before… a furious freak out that we can’t see as deftly as we need… under the surface, it mates itself sparingly with torrential outpouring of restless emotions…’




the coundensing of rhyme. the riddle divine.

Nine times…nines times, I have fought for these threads. the clerk nodded, absentmindedly.
seemed to agree with every word I said at-large. clearing his throat, he calmly replied cautiously.
What trouble would you have, sir? my defiant stand made him quite clearly affected, a silent stand.
the lone vagrant diatribe cautiously relents into the darkness of his forgotten intellect, a swine standing. there where a man just stood, relenting against a painful system infecting him. his twisting made leaps into the insecure nature of impact, as the crutches fell away to the floor, and he faced thunderous approach into a concrete surface. the flames ignited through a human anger flew and spewed to the floor. the scream at the end left no doubt at the intrigue in the wake of the apparent. Did you like that, cripple? he was not afraid to …