Postmodern
- NakedLunch
- Vault Scion
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- Joined: Sat Mar 08, 2008 5:43 am
Postmodern
In the middle of the spaceship I was trying to figure out the puzzle Ga’meon, the sage of Alzan, gave me when I realized I hadn’t eaten for five days straight. I look over at Straight Street and said “Hello gods of the new world.� The wizard? The wizard is destroyed haha back between the eighty three dimensions. Why eightythree is become the property of Alzan, CO box 0203. Do not try and purchase it. The story has been copyrighted. The spaceship? Oh yes the spaceship of orbiting the earth 4003 times since the year of the ancient ones (4992 for reference) the dictionary I smoked it and the bible was broken. There is no marijuana, no more will it be seen as the curse. No more jokes will be eaten. Im not kidding, the drugs are believable. Reality has been a forsaken curse, this is what the television god says. Those are unreadable. Get out get out get out there is no humor hear. WHERE ARE THE HORSES WHERE ARE THE HORSE “Where are the heroes?� The horse screamed when it was found. What is the house that we built out of timber! Fire creates love and the only passion of fire believed with the music lost in a crown, too many thorns has been driven into the ancient spike of my brain. The hunger has subsided, picking at the bones of jesus. Hear this, foolish chrononauts! Next time you try and spacetravel, never touch the horns of the sun. That would’ve been the ending if I didn’t drink too much but as a matter of fact I don’t. Sorry chad I cannot afford the acquiesnece of this sip. Sip too much on the sexual content, sip too much on the charred remains of the small children. Furnace of Hatred, the furnace of paint that was spilled when I awaoke this matter to my mind. The spaceship? The smell of the spaceship was like water when the bombs start to burst. Midair I flew to the new realms. The children lied to you. Outside of the scribbled ink is here I am midair burst to me, burst to the kiss you plant on my lips hello beautiful kiss how are you kiss let’s fall kiss kiss the burst of enigma, the silence milked. My stomach has become a love story. This is a love story without love, the moral serves as the erotic fruit of disgusting parody. “I am Ga’meon, god of the ancient gates� Open up into the fountains. There is no youth anymore the age is past the nails spliced into eyeball. This is the over. Spaceship 3211 has exited the perimeter. EXITED THE PERIMETER?! WHERE HAVE THEY GONE THE PERIMETER WAS NEVER THERE. DEAR GOD, WHAT HAVE WE DONE. They sit in the room, lights flashing all around them and the men put their faces into the palms of their hands.
- Thor Kaufman
- Mamma's Gang member
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