I found a device that finishes my thoughts if they're mine. Tho it could be my first conscience, my thought comports recording myself more, but could be my subconscious coping with what can't be told without sounding crazy. Antagonistic lizards from space, hyper-intelligent koalas from the future, and the sound of nature as a secret code to shine a light on the shadow governments of the world, thank you ever so.
Sixers, six act short stories, two will be written per day and the other will be posted here, so if you'd like to unsubscribe before January 1st it's now or never. When I post/schedule Dec 31 I'll add the day it was written to knowing how long it took me to do it. Replacing and timestamping the occasional post with some other projects. After that, whom knows.
I'm about to hide morals in stories and quandaries in poems for 366 days, but I'll leave this year and decade with a contradiction that can't be countered because it's a question as every answer.
The tree waves it's leaves at the giraffe, the fruit at humans, and the thorns at its thieves. Bears with honey and sharks with blood. The first newspapers attracted buyers with headlines to improve their printing press, the first blogs gather eyes with clickbait, and arguably we all cherish the truth for what truth can be, or at least what doesn't split our wigs and russell our jimmies. Is appearance clickbait, does it mirror our truth, can our opinions even be changed by who knows the truth or who doesn't?
Sing a song of the past and study the future. Not the other way around.
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Sixers, six act short stories, two will be written per day and the other will be posted here, so if you'd like to unsubscribe before January 1st it's now or never. When I post/schedule Dec 31 I'll add the day it was written to knowing how long it took me to do it. Replacing and timestamping the occasional post with some other projects. After that, whom knows.
Dekm'Hetnos.Was gift years ten for me now, On have learned nothing to me,When becoming days years how,Become growth of summer tree,In winter trees never will bow,From spring a decade's roots climb,The seeds with potential to vow,Sunlight searches all of time.Dekm'Hetnos.
I'm about to hide morals in stories and quandaries in poems for 366 days, but I'll leave this year and decade with a contradiction that can't be countered because it's a question as every answer.
The tree waves it's leaves at the giraffe, the fruit at humans, and the thorns at its thieves. Bears with honey and sharks with blood. The first newspapers attracted buyers with headlines to improve their printing press, the first blogs gather eyes with clickbait, and arguably we all cherish the truth for what truth can be, or at least what doesn't split our wigs and russell our jimmies. Is appearance clickbait, does it mirror our truth, can our opinions even be changed by who knows the truth or who doesn't?
Sing a song of the past and study the future. Not the other way around.
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