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Post by Cherokee Chuck on Sept 11, 2019 12:40:19 GMT -5
What in the muddy fern field is goin on here!!! ? I leave for two seconds and all the sudden there is all kinds of profane degradation of light seekers by the keepers of the pine and falsified forum dead ends and back roads with no turns. Dagnabit how in the heck am I supposed to expand my constantly curiously grasping pshyce when my binary universe is steadily being 0 when it needs a 1. Who are these masters of the track hiding behind checkered curtains manipulating the balances of good and evil, fast and slow, modern and ancient technology? Why are my fingers covered in metal polish residue and ca glue my face coated with saw dust and foam cutting with the scent of jig in the air? Why must I live my life 2.8475 seconds at a time? Why do I feel I know everything yet accept I know nothing......do I even exist? Why do I despise graphite? Am I zeeb? Am I a laser? Am I snap of a gate or the thousands of seconds speeding by till I 9.999 out .....am I hill, or transition or flat? Am I a torn couch pillow stop pad or a dropped weight package? Maybe just a wobbly wheel squeek or the sound of wood rubbing aluminum or a fender cut wrong. No I am the breath that you take as the first clock Stops. I am the sigh you feel in your chest when the car hit the back of your hand falling into to the place where everything stops for a beat and the crashes into the O. Welcome BS fugger
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Eagle
Goodfella
Posts: 2,228
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Post by Eagle on Sept 11, 2019 15:07:25 GMT -5
Wow! When I asked things in rapid succession I got taken to the whooping corner. All I can say is I'm quite certain you are not Zeeb.
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Post by Professor Moriarty on Sept 13, 2019 12:21:43 GMT -5
What in the muddy fern field is goin on here!!! ? I leave for two seconds and all the sudden there is all kinds of profane degradation of light seekers by the keepers of the pine and falsified forum dead ends and back roads with no turns. Dagnabit how in the heck am I supposed to expand my constantly curiously grasping pshyce when my binary universe is steadily being 0 when it needs a 1. Who are these masters of the track hiding behind checkered curtains manipulating the balances of good and evil, fast and slow, modern and ancient technology? Why are my fingers covered in metal polish residue and ca glue my face coated with saw dust and foam cutting with the scent of jig in the air? Why must I live my life 2.8475 seconds at a time? Why do I feel I know everything yet accept I know nothing......do I even exist? Why do I despise graphite? Am I zeeb? Am I a laser? Am I snap of a gate or the thousands of seconds speeding by till I 9.999 out .....am I hill, or transition or flat? Am I a torn couch pillow stop pad or a dropped weight package? Maybe just a wobbly wheel squeek or the sound of wood rubbing aluminum or a fender cut wrong. No I am the breath that you take as the first clock Stops. I am the sigh you feel in your chest when the car hit the back of your hand falling into to the place where everything stops for a beat and the crashes into the O. Welcome BS fugger Nobody told me that you were a poet too! Good stuff Chuck! Loved it!
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Post by loud2ns on Sept 13, 2019 13:30:54 GMT -5
Chuck never ceases to amaze me!!
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