Sep 2016

This XML file does not appear to have any style information associated with it. The document tree is shown below.

<livejournal>

<entry>

<itemid>170429</itemid>

<eventtime>2016-09-10 17:10:00</eventtime>

<logtime>2016-09-10 21:10:55</logtime>

<subject>

A Poem Composed On WhatsApp In Response to My Mother's Offer to Send Flowers at My Grandfather's Fun

</subject>

<event>

by Emmit Other Thankyou Um I will pass on all of the (deep breath) Feelings you want me to pass on Um With the Family I may send something in your name or something I have to decide on how to do that Um As far as past goes... Dead. Deader. Pushing up Daisies. Post Mortem. The Worms Crawl In. The Worms Crawl Out. The Play Pinochle On His Snout. He's Pushing Up Daisies. They put you a whole that's deep And then the worms begin to creep Inside you eye Inside your ear But never worry Never Fear You're Dead You Don't Care Moldy Coffin Putrid Air Desperate Rhyming Deep Despair Dead. Dead. Post Mortem. Post. Post Toastie. Passed Gas. Dead People Farting. Noxious Smell. People who work in the mortuary smelling my dead Grandfather's farts These are the memories That I will have That and the stomping of diapers Nine Children Stomping One by One A full baseball team Stomping shit in water Inside a small shallow bathtub The end of an era The end of children Stomping diapers with their feet. This has been the Mormon Tabernacle Choir Have a Pleasant Evening I'll Call You Tomorrow I love you.

</event>

<security>public</security>

<allowmask>0</allowmask>

</entry>

<entry>

<itemid>170614</itemid>

<eventtime>2016-09-10 21:52:00</eventtime>

<logtime>2016-09-11 01:52:13</logtime>

<subject>Pseudomalectual Babblestorm</subject>

<event>

by Emmit Other Gotta Jam Gotta Jam Gotta Jam it down your throat I'll link and Link And link some more Until you acknowledge me My truth My way I know I'm right You're wrong I'm from a tradition Of veracity And proof I know its true I know I'm right Gonna jam it down Gonna jam it into you My girl is the only girl Fuck all anyone else Gonna jam Gonna jam it down Gonna cram it till you choke Truth is sold By industrial truck load By my Davros Davos pals These are friends These friends of mine Progressives progressively progressive We lock all the media Lock it tight Til they all say what we think Then we jam We jam it down We jam it down your throat How dare you gag Take it down Take it down Take it down your throat! I'm right I'm right I know I am I know I'm right Common sense need not apply Prove you're right Prove it Pr...hello? Hello? Is...where is everyone? Why is this chamber echoing so much?

</event>

<security>public</security>

<allowmask>0</allowmask>

</entry>

<entry>

<itemid>170787</itemid>

<eventtime>2016-09-18 22:38:00</eventtime>

<logtime>2016-09-19 02:38:10</logtime>

<subject>Revelatorium Carcosa</subject>

<event>

by Redwin Tursor When you wake up And find the nightmare is true Day after day after day The worst thing you imagine Keeps happening 16 jobs in 16 years "I never loved you" "Yes, there is a test today" "God is Dead" "The Church is False" "Every humiliating thing you have done to find a wife was pointless" "America is a shit hole not worth saving" "Humanity are desicated apes worse than almost any living creature on earth" What is one more "Your writing makes our eyes bleed" I had nothing for contempt For those two Dream Killers in Reno Five years ago But every writer fears Secretly Fears more than anything else that their writing is awful Sometimes when dark truths stare us in the face We find a silver lining But I have written most of my material for the common man All but the last Book I wrote Which I wrote for children I may now never have So much wasted time I hate wasting my time Rather I hate having it wasted I have been able to empower others Worth a damn to do worthy things Maybe I should stick to that I have one talent I believe in people People as individuals Even if I no longer give a rats ass About the collective unconcious Now I have to bang out 50000 words of shit Just to prove myself To myself Because we all die alone And since there is no after life I don't wanna die with regrets This now This darkness This is all there is And speaking of time Taking a bullet for someone is easy Dying a little inside Each time the sunrises In a city which is salt to you Takes the cake Takes the cake indeed.

</event>

<security>public</security>

<allowmask>0</allowmask>

</entry>

<entry>

<itemid>171143</itemid>

<eventtime>2016-09-23 20:09:00</eventtime>

<logtime>2016-09-24 00:09:49</logtime>

<subject>Three Fictional Characters</subject>

<event>

by Emmit Other Let my Freak Flag Fly The Reverend Said Fly the Flag of Freakness The Reverend Did Say I sit here In the City of Salt The Magic glittering And leaves my throat parched For all its hollow emptiness 6 Hours is She Gone Back to Terminus A Reality imperfect Such Pain I knew there Will never be undone But it is a place of reality Already am I untethered The clock working backwards My connection to time flowing Just as it does when unemployed. I am alone in this city. The cat doesn't really count He is nice enough And nice enough to the Emergency Backup Human I suppose But a cat lives in dreams And other realities Just as much as it does the human world And I went unstuck long ago. They had a meme Joyfully streaking the internet Its breasts and testacles flapping in the etherial wind Everyone laugh Some made out with it So did I It was a whore But a good kind Of the Old World When such things meant Equinox and Harvest Everyone wants to be understood But no one understood Or cared Or noticed Not really These fictional characters Wackaloons all Sitcoms, Movies, Action Heroes Still nearer to reality Than the flashing flickering nonsense of my esoterra I choose a cartoon And an anthropomorphic asshole And the spirit of Vengeance itself That's what I am When you make your credo Elisa's maxim Live life to every minute You see the small things The spider spinning its web At the Owl Creek Bridge Color where there is no Color Imbued in a short film by Carcosa's true creator The backside of Dream Built over and over in the real Dream Time I appreciate life And almost every moment A lover A poet A madman These are many But I fringe on the fringes of the fringes of the fringes Odd even by the oddlings standards Sometimes we squawk the same vowels Some of the more magnificent bastards mutually call me friend Some even recognize the value of my friendship Loyalty unto Death Belief until undone by declaration By word or Plural Plenary Unholy action But there is a price this exceptional connectedness There is no free ticket to the Chocolate factory for your's truly No lightning bolt or gamma bomb to imbue me with powers beyond mortal ken Just an understanding of my ordinariness Despite my esoterics I am simply one more among the disconnected Slightly more aware of it Unable to connect Unstuck Undone. On to more pleasant realities.

</event>

<security>public</security>

<allowmask>0</allowmask>

</entry>

</livejournal>