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Parsifal 2. Aufzug 1. Bil, 1958 Wieland Wagner
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I didn't know what I was getting at with all this reading.. on a topic about meaning. Was it all just misleading?
Maybe not all of it. What was "misleading" anyhow? What is "anyhow"? No fine print like the paper.
Away from reality I went to find reality. Id come out sometimes. Wondering what it meant to be alive. What was next id ask myself? We all knew the one way out. We'll know if its nothing or we'll know that it is everything. There is no such thing as nothing thus far.
All sharing the same moment right now. There's no more than that, really. Other than what we make ourselves see.
They say we're made to create, meditate, contemplate fate, stay in shape, buy that car, work so hard, travel far. While we are held by the chains of those who usually wear crowns.
Inevitable. Always a master of control. We did not create ourselves.. maybe the ones who did, come from other realms. Starts in darkness in a cave, ancient means that paved the way.
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And she had to break- before she broke free
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Half and half
The cat that balances on the wall.
No whiskers or tail, he'd fall
The clock with hands is how it speaks without its arms, we would not reap.
The calculations, the time and placement of who and where and what should be.
Freedom of choice, an illusion any of us will see?
I go here, I go there. I can go anywhere!
In my pocket is something we all hold.. a block of black that is a mine for data gold.
Its okay, I click accept. Fully aware of my decision to neglect, the wall between who's really me and the image they create of whats expected to be.
A video cut in half, she said this, she said that!
Fear instilled, rising numbers with the ill.
Benzos is richer. Not only from covid, the plot always gets thicker
Names you've never heard of rule the sky above.
But you'll stay here. Fully compliant, reliant, dependent, spendin, time, money, illusion. Just to prove to be something you'll never be.
#thoughts#original poem#my poem#poem#poetry#politics#benzos#modern day slavery#illusion#writers of tumblr#writers#writing#life#art#newyear#corruptgovernment
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One soul
I had the world to go, i could not stay stuck on one soul. I hear her whisper in the trees, not just one lover was made for me.. Sun soaked with blacklist lips, ive traveled this far with no one in mind to kiss. Not reciprocated, modern love for her was over rated. Not danty, nor cold. Only waiting until the next eclipse. No one can shatter my sun. Unbroken, completely open. That place that I so often stands still. Where she lies her head, one touch will claim a kill. I cannot travel back, therefore i have the world to go.. i cannot stay stuck on one soul.
#life#thoughts#my poem#poetry#writers of tumblr#writing#my words#words#original poem#poetic#loveyourself#onesoul
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Maybe
It's kinda hard when your only lookin foward to the weekend
The file cabinets in your mind are slowly leaking.
When the fuss is all around one simple thing. There, crowded all around, they all loose their dreams
Take a punch to the face to hopefully erase all that you know
Learn it all over again and then on you go
Maybe in the next life
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Timeshare
Materialistic. I seem to be so different.
I do adapt. In my head, I still can't help but to laugh. How these objects bring them joy. An addiction?
Trying to cover an affliction that is untouched by them consciously?
The clothes they wear, why do they seem to care?
I guess the world around us, that surrounds us has made it so. Instead of the heart that grows, our closets are full, items brand new. The heart stopped growing, the shirts we wear are ever showing.
#timeshare#old love#inthemoment#thoughts#life#my poem#poem#poetry#whyyyy#then and now#good vibrations
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How persuasive and invasive you dont want to be. It all somehow feels like some fucked up dream
Im compared to those who surround me
Be careful want you bring up
They just might around crowd me
Stuck in a cycle
Taking food from the hand that so easily smites you. But your fed. Lay, rest in your bed, in your box The clock they made always tocks.
Something I've never expected coming from someone so nice, they say.
As if words and expressions meant the world to these people.
You do the same thing, but now your criticizing?
Somehow denying the fact that in this moment your just now realizing?
That the money rolls In. Their perspective and attention starts to grow thin. As almost always, the heart diminishes, the mind deteriorates then forms itself into something anew.
Oh what power can do to one's self.
Oh how that power can trickle.
Oh how I'm glad that I cherish the small things little by little.
#writers of tumblr#poem#power trip#poetry#late night#thoughts#my words#questions#why am i like this#writing
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