Bantering with Octagons

[staryeyed]

please

I dont understand this post

 

[GreenEyedGirl]

Understanding is not everything, according to Buddah and Yoda it is precious little to be concerned with. Pickled onions sing. Beating hearts become still. Eternal beauty lubes black holes. Psyche blinds love. Hope chases chills. Rocks rain down.
Do or do not, there is no try.

 

[Guest]

 

[sigh]

take your understanding to a higher height
a wider wide
a taller tall
a sillier silly

chant the universal song
the mantra of om
or is it
layla

i can't remember anymore

 

[Guest]

 

[cymbidia]

Dancing with echoes of days gone past, we fling our arms out -suddenly - and mercilessly trade those old mold-rolled ghosts for a new reality, albeit one that's kinda crinkly and a little bit warped. Warped is okay in people though, so sayeth me.

 

[Guest]

 

[Impetus]

Light pours out from the cracks between my organ donar card and my libido. *Snif*, *Snif*, there's someone in the guardhouse. Rip out the mortician! I'll explain the first one of you that comes within a league of my copy of "Slaughterhouse 5."

It doesn't work if you don't compile the source code first.
A little more to the left...yeah, that's the spot.
I watch the fires because I like the smoke.
Good lord, he peed on the president!
*Fuck* that feels good in my pussy, pump it harder!
We'll need at least twice that much if we're going to make it back in time.
It would be unfortunate if he were to meet with an...accident.
Damnit, I forgot my pants again.
Would you like some whore with that?
My eyes are bleeding!
Yes, yes I am.

-I

 

[cymbidia]

Butt cracks like canyons shoot rays of pale flesh across the spaces between us as i scream out and jump back to avoid the noid because, after all, one must do what one can do to keep things rolling along like well-oiled machine dreams. Right?

 

[GreenEyedGirl]

Pale flesh dims against the brilliance of the sun. Retreat into the linen wrappings spun from the earthen moss covering trees, covering boulders, covering fern fronds reaching delicately upwards, ever upwards. Reaching for the forest canopy, reaching for the safety of heights.

 

[cymbidia]

Gray morning dawn drips from on high down low, way down, way way down.
It drips to the low places, all of them.
I cannot rejoice in its natural uncomplicated fitness.
At least the grass roots love it.
At least the bugs love it.
Nature abhors dried-out roots.
In the end, wet is wet.
Dirt is dirt.
Such is life.

 

[Dillinger]

The sun drools life out of dancing eyes as baby grand pianos frolic under the trees in a pool of thick, creamy honey puzzles.

 

[Guest]

 

[Guest]

 

[sigh]

full hearts and empty souls
a band in overdrive
sings of peace and pain and the diligent undertakings of a colony of termites as they strive to build a tower to baffle the chimps and their thrice damned twigs

but can mindless obedience truly overcome higher intelligence?
who can say

mechanized oneness
following chemical trails
to march ever onward

oblivious to self
slave to all
and none
but self

sing again of peace and pain and diligence
sing again
in tune
sing again
to everyone
sing again

 

[cymbidia]

Singing and dancing as the notes float past, we remain as we began, oblivious to that which does not actually strike our center. Our smooth shiny happy parts, though, they glisten as always. Red lips. Bright eyes. Bows and ruffles. Such a pretty picture. And always forever willing and able, too. Wet and ready. Oh gods yes. Little miss perfect. God forbid any hairs out of place...

 

[sigh]

one hair
under my arm
missed by razor's edge
should i pluck
or shave again

i'd rather fuck
than pluck
you know
but if well-plucked
perhaps a fuck
will find me more
fuckable

you think?

ah, lucky me
my love just came
to pluck
then fuck me
silly me
i should have known that neither is exclusive of the other


gotta love them smooth shiny happy parts!

 

[Impetus]

Today I decided to give up shaving and give up fucking. I believe I will be mad before the month is out. That's the idea. I want to feel veins of tension running up and down my soul, out to my flesh, through my body. I want my every step to echo madness. I want to be like I feel. Mad. Crazy. Round the bend. I want to cover my soul with the black paint that has started to leak into me. I want my roomates to come into my room to investigate a strange sent and I want them to find me covered in black paint, lying prone on the floor with my eyes dialated like a crack addict off the fumes. I want them to haul me away. I want the report to say: gave up fucking and shaving. Went mad before the month was out. That was the idea.

-I

 

[Guest]

 

[GreenEyedGirl]

Standing on the razor's edge, blood seeping between my toes, a decision frozen in my mind. My feet unable to move as they slip farther down, my mind cleft in twain as my heart dissintegrates. It's a fine line we walk, this path of love.

 

[Guest]

 

[Dillinger]

Life Jackets and
Bottomless Chasms

Razor's Edge and
Red Dawn Horizons

Black Paint and
Veins of Tension

One Underarm Hair and
Assorted Little Miss Perfects

These are a few of my favorite things...

 

[cymbidia]

Favorite things can become objects in the attic like the clouds obscuring the brightness of an otherwise sunny day. Obscurity is the natural end of things. Attics are our final resting places. Yes, you too.

 

[freescorfr]

My attic is my resting place, my home. Salad wit and attic days, I'll overdose on May. Santo Domingo de La Clazada is not the place to fall in love with princes. See what you can find in the attic first.

 

[riff]

big fat hairy vaginas turn me on
a cunt could eat Cleveland any day
and no one would give a damn
bye bye Browns
Goodbye Spanish Flamenco Dancers
the bigger the twat the bigger the fuck
I once knew a vagina that engulfed
an asteroid

It saved the planet,
but Cleveland was no more.