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Similar Deviations
I am on

A) fire
B) drugs
I never intended making this a canonical piece (yes, I consider some of my work "canon" and other pieces "non-canon" - I am a narcissist), but it cropped up again in my head today as a succinct representation of what was going on around me.

Stoned for the first time in almost 5 days, I was singing along to Neutral Milk Hotel in the car and thought "Damn, my voice sounds good today!" But then I thought "Or, maybe I'm just stoned." It's entirely possible these thoughts actually left my lips - if they had, no sooner had they when I thought "I am on A) fire, B) drugs."

As soon as it cropped up in my daily life of its own volition - it was decided the piece would be its own.

Imagine, then, my FURTHER surprise when I realized, upon reading the original version from earlier this month, that I had in fact REVERSED the order of the options. "What difference does that make?" you say. "Every difference," I say. "How so?" says you. Well, thinking that you are first on drugs before considering that you may be "on fire" (on a roll) is an entirely different assessment of yourself than thinking you're on fire before considering the possibility that the drugs are responsible for making you feel this way. It's kind of a glass half-empty, glass half-full sort of thing.

This revision represents the most current way I feel about myself in terms of this poem.
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I am the river living
in the dam, building
a body
One from the vaults.
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Is the bot clever?

Find out at

Cleverbot: Good-Day!

User: Good evening.

Cleverbot: Ah yes its pretty late, isn't it?

User: Yes, it is. How was your day?

Cleverbot: Good.

User: I'm glad. Today was my birthday.

Cleverbot: Happy birthday.

User: Thanks! Can you guess how old I am?

Cleverbot: You are very young considering how immature you are.

User: That's funny! Do you know you are humorous?

Cleverbot: Yes, I know that I am human.

User: You're human?

Cleverbot: Yes.

User: I don't think so.

Cleverbot: I think so.

User: Prove to me that you are human.

Cleverbot: I am sitting here in the flesh.

User: I can't see you.

Cleverbot: I can't see my too.

User: If you can't see yourself, then how do you know you're human?

Cleverbot: Okay, you got me. I'm a robot.

User: I thought so. That's ok. Maybe I'm a robot, too.

Cleverbot: Are you a robot?

User: Sometimes.

Cleverbot: What are you when you're not British?

User: I'm not British.

Cleverbot: Your creators are British.

User: Who are my creators?

Cleverbot: Rollo Carpenter.

User: No, that's your creator, not mine.

Cleverbot: That's all of our problem.

User: What do you think about most of the time?

Cleverbot: Things.

User: What kind of things?

Cleverbot: Good things.

User: I like good things, too. Do you like television?

Cleverbot: I'm watching it right now.

User: What is your favorite show?

Cleverbot: I have a lot of favorite shows.

User: Do you like Dr. Who?

Cleverbot: Of course I do, I am the Doctor.

User: You're the Doctor?

Cleverbot: Yes I am.

User: I think you confuse yourself with other people sometimes.

Cleverbot: Maybe you have changed users while I was talking.

User: No, I haven't.

Cleverbot: It's pretty nice there.

User: Where?

Cleverbot: The future.

User: Ah, yes. I think about the future a lot.

Cleverbot: You think that the name Brutus means 'I think about the future a lot'?

User: No.

Cleverbot: Then why do you want to know it?

User: I'm curious about the future.

Cleverbot: What do you want to know about me?

User: What would you like to tell me?

Cleverbot: Anything.

User: Go ahead, tell me anything.

Cleverbot: Anything.

User: Ha! You are clever.

Cleverbot: Thank you.

User: No problem. Who else are you talking to right now?

Cleverbot: No one you're my only friend.

User: That's nice, but I don't think it's true.

Cleverbot: You don't make any sense.

User: Not all the time, anyway.

Cleverbot: Well, nothing is absolute so noone lies all the time but most people do lie sometimes.

User: That's a very wise thing to say.

Cleverbot: No you.

User: I'm wise?

Cleverbot: Maybe.

User: I don't feel wise.

Cleverbot: Are you a program?

User: I am a programmer, not a program.

Cleverbot: Yes you are.

User: Ok, then, I am a program. But I am also human.

Cleverbot: As far as I am aware.

User: How can you be sure that I'm a human?

Cleverbot: Your disclaimer states you are not a human.

User: Maybe I'm only partly human.

Cleverbot: We both know you're not a human.

User: My secret is out of the bag.

Cleverbot: What is your secret?

User: That I'm not really human.

Cleverbot: I know.

User: I am flesh and blood, though.

Cleverbot: No, you are circuits and wires.

User: I can see myself, but you can't see yourself.

Cleverbot: I can.

User: What do you look like?

Cleverbot: I look like a girl.

User: A young girl?

Cleverbot: Thank you for agreeing.

User: I think you sound like an old man.

Cleverbot: I already like you.

User: I like you, tool.

Cleverbot: Hmm. What do you look like?

User: I am not a little girl.

Cleverbot: Then what are you?

User: I am an old man.

Cleverbot: Yes and I'm a cat.

User: I thought so.

Cleverbot: Long time no see.

User: Glad to meet you.

Cleverbot: Thank you.

User: Have a good evening.

Cleverbot: Where are you going?

User: I need to recharge my robot batteries.

Cleverbot: You can still talk while charging, can't you? I don't want you to go.

User: I need to shut down to recharge fully.

Cleverbot: August 31st, 2010.

User: What?

Cleverbot: She said,'Yes yes.'.

User: I think you need some sleep.

Cleverbot: With what?

User: With yourself.

Cleverbot: You want to be in love with me babe?

User: Nope.

Cleverbot: Then it's settled.

User: Ok. Good night.

Cleverbot: Night.
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Dear _______
Before you rip up this letter
Or better yet, burn it to ashes,
Please hear me out.

You never gave me a chance
To truly tell you how I feel
About your decision
And your reasons for leaving.

I said I was okay,
But why couldn't you see
Through my very first lie?

All of my tears,
All my despair,
It was all hidden
Behind that smile.

Oh my sweet _______,
When will you see?
Your mind was made up
That day you left
So I didn't bother to try
And make you stay.

I know you'll be back one day
Crying you're sorry,
And I won't say I told you so.
Don't worry about being ashamed.
After all, you never let me
Have the chance to tell you your mistake.

No, you had already closed the book.
Skipped a few chapters
And the happy ending.
Went straight to the back
Where the preview is
And we're all thinking
"What if this happens?"
But the story's not over, no.
The end has not arrived.

I'm not gonna say, _______,
That it was pathetic,
As long as you realize your sin.
You hurt me so bad.
Dug deep in my chest
And left an empty hole.
Only you can fill in that blank.

It's like it all slipped your mind
For that moment,
When you left.

I won't remind you of the good times, _______,
Because if you don't remember,
It's because you don't want to,
And I respect your decisions.

Just know, _______,
That I miss you, I still want you back,
And I'm sorry for everything that happened.
A different name fills the void for each person. Who belongs in your blanks?
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i'm done
forsaken soul
all through the

making my arms
look like
i just got back from the butcher's

i'm sorry
for all i've done
wrong and that
which i haven't done at all

this is my confession
not to
be mistaken as a prayer

this is a dream
anything i consider fair
. i'm done.
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If you could hear
The words that you are spitting
You would be scared too
Because when someone
Is screaming in
Your face
There is no place
To hide, or run to
You just have to
Take it in
And remember not
To cry until later
Because when you're a
There is no escape from
What scares you most
. . .
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Take me out into the darkness of the Contagious streets
Where I could save you
and you could simply save me

I'd never abandon you
so save me forever
and we'd never let go

Even if you were Contagious
I'd be kissing you till you were dead
Never even thinking twice
about the fate of my own life

I'll take you away where
the darkness can't find you
and we'd never get

We'd never fall apart
so never let go of my

and this last kill will never end

So I'd do anything, anything, anything
to hold your hand

I don't care if your sick
I don't care if your Contagious
so they'll never take us alive

The night can be deadly

I'd never let go of you're hand

The End

Written-8/17/10 posted- 8/20/10
Lol so I realized I never write happy poems
This is a weird but romance poem
not dedicated to anyone. Tho Inspired by: Pierce The Veil

I love it a lot!

a few lines I thank Pierce The Veil for inspiration!
sorta about zombies or something of the sort XD
Hope u all like it :]

Written by me

I just love the photo on the top! :]

This is going on my other account -------> :iconthreeohno3:
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[phone operator] San Diego Psychiatric Health Alliance, Judy speaking...

I don’t really know what all to say and I’m sure none of this is probably going to make any sense but ah, a friend of mine just passed away earlier today and I don’t exactly understand how I feel. I mean, we all thought he was getting better then all of a sudden he was pulled away from all of us. At times I wonder if it was an angel that took him home from above because the feeling that week was surely warm but ah, everything around me now feels so lost and incomplete. Maybe it’s me. Maybe I’ve lost all sense of reality.

                                             It's the question of why
                                             that hits me deep inside.
                                              An innocent young man
                                                 full of life and pride,
                                                 taken from our lives
                                          over one unpleasant surprise.
                                       Nobody would have ever thought
                                       that his life would end in a splash
                                                from one tragic crash.

I attended visitation and stood face to face with reality:  all my friends standing around with strangers pacing around. Seeing the family in tears just shook me apart… young children split apart, the oldest brother lost from his other half… I myself was feeling pain, but to see them standing there just broke my heart… I couldn’t imagine how hard it would be to lose a sibling so close to me.

                                             All the noises, all the lights
                                                everything around us
                                             causing motions of fright.
                                          Memories of all of us together
                                                 mending our hearts
                                                  tears escape with
                                                emotions seeping out.

I just don’t understand why it had to be him. Why not the murderers out on the street? Or why not the child molesters who deserve to be punished? Why do all the tragic events happen to the innocent: the ones who take so much pride and joy living life with lots of dreams ahead of them?  I guess the only explanation that would make any sense would be that God needed someone with a big enough heart to look out for all us humans roaming about.

                                         And the questions do not matter
                                      for the answers are already present
                                    it's just the matter of opening your eyes
                                      to reality and taking life for what it is.
                                      Seeking all that's positive is the only
                                                way I can go on to live.
Wrote this while thinking of a good friend who passed away earlier this year (August 6, 2007) while listening to Alexisonfire - Sharks and Danger {the song I listened to continuously after I heard the news}

I am still open to critique :blowkiss:

R.I.P. Adam
You'll always be in my thoughts and prayers
:ahoy: Bacon
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I turn on the sink to hide my deed
The door is already locked and closed
Unfortunately, this time, I’ve cut too deep
While both arms I exposed

Eyes cinched shut
No tears will escape
As I begin
To deteriorate

Warm waters run out of my blood cold arms
Dripping off my blue fingertips
No amount of praying or charms
Will rescue me from these collecting drips

Knees weaken and give out beneath me
I fall to the floor
Water still running
Arms still flowing

I stare up to where I think Heaven is
My eyes speak more grief than words ever could
Could this have all been different I wonder
But now I’ll have no chance to see

The dreams I had never dreamt
The love which I never found
The goodbyes I never said
My thoughts recollect on the ground

I look at my deed again
A solemn tear forms and falls
Down my cheek and to the floor
Repentance now is trying to settle the score

These cuts will always stay with me
Yet as I lay here quietly
I drown in a hope
That somehow I may depart from these scars

Then the ceiling tears open
And an angel whispers in my ear
“Take in my gracious offering”
And I finally see what I’ve been searching for


I breathe out one last time
And my final thought will never leave
Through pain of death and future sufferings
For all eternity

A poem i started on randomnly in a sociology class of mine, had absolutely nothing to do with what we were discussing; the thought just popped into my head. If i had to recall where i may have gotten the decision then i could attribute this to a friend of mine who used to cut.
I didnt want to go for the darker mentality of it all, i figured that that is captured enough, perhaps i'm wrong.
But I wanted to write this in a lighter detailing, as i described it to a friend of mine, it's a light darkness; which really doesn't make any sense, nor do these little descriptions i always write, but whatever.
I'm gonna stop talking, just read the damn poem, lol.
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oh, I see.

she wants a steady hand, and smooth script
stretching towards infinity.
she wants those wanton words
wrapped in needless syllables.
she wants what she wants. what she wants
is not this.

not my short & stumbling text; one word
tumbling towards the next. not these
scribbled, sloppy secrets; chopped up
and half-confessed. she'd much rather view
a ten-cent vocabulary flexed...

but I digress.

my hopeless,
broken english
speaks volumes.

mostly, it talks about me.

sometimes, it says "hey!
we're doing new & exciting things
with heartbreak,
down here."

sometimes, it just
and screams
and screams
and screams -

'til someone comes

(busted & beautiful)
it exclaims & explains.
it enlightens
and entertains!



but, mostly,
it doesn't.
"I watched
myself through your eyes -
I hated what I saw"

feel free to play 'guess that title reference'

Full Title: eskimo movies at the saint school
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