Accidentally in e-prime
Bite and groan.
Hackey and alone. Same as ever without a context for the routine. Hunched. Weird lights in the distance that outline ghetto dystopias. Forced alien and unattainable expectations - setup from the getgo to make me undeserving. Hilarious gossip spreading of unattainable self-precedent. Talent as obligaton; a kind of mockery but which lets me pass through as a member.
Sitting down, feeling terrible grief over a feeling of unfeeling, all the while posturing to reposition lack to advantage. Gradually the misses seep in. I don't know how to lose, although certainly I do so. Repeating yardsale of method hawking.
A maelstrom of unassailable perspectives surround? What? Something I'd expect, but who knows. Some kind of fulcrum I hope. Something to arbitrate the ingoings and outgoings as proper. Locus of control is an arrogant housecat though.
Sitting around with my angels and demons in congress. Bored. Annoyed. They all defer to me, but all miss the point. Mercurial lubrication, but what is the machine? The function? Nothing made dream made flesh made dream made nothing.
But in the end, I'm a bottom feeder. Easy my friends, easy! And through.
Oh to be a magister of myself like you dear reader!
Hackey and alone. Same as ever without a context for the routine. Hunched. Weird lights in the distance that outline ghetto dystopias. Forced alien and unattainable expectations - setup from the getgo to make me undeserving. Hilarious gossip spreading of unattainable self-precedent. Talent as obligaton; a kind of mockery but which lets me pass through as a member.
Sitting down, feeling terrible grief over a feeling of unfeeling, all the while posturing to reposition lack to advantage. Gradually the misses seep in. I don't know how to lose, although certainly I do so. Repeating yardsale of method hawking.
A maelstrom of unassailable perspectives surround? What? Something I'd expect, but who knows. Some kind of fulcrum I hope. Something to arbitrate the ingoings and outgoings as proper. Locus of control is an arrogant housecat though.
Sitting around with my angels and demons in congress. Bored. Annoyed. They all defer to me, but all miss the point. Mercurial lubrication, but what is the machine? The function? Nothing made dream made flesh made dream made nothing.
But in the end, I'm a bottom feeder. Easy my friends, easy! And through.
Oh to be a magister of myself like you dear reader!