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2008 - September

09/01

Why am I here typing in this big block of text?
When I have no clue of what might happen next?
Why am I here typing in words without context?
Why, Why, Why, Why, Why ...

Why am I typing in these secondary lines?
Why am I typing in a hundred words combined?
Why am I doing this when I know I have no time?
Why, Why, Why, Why, Why ...

I don't know, I don't know, I don't know!
Is it my soul, is it the flow, is it for show?
It's just a challenge, just a goal, nothing more than oath.

Lets go.

09/02

The second has arrived and I'm here without regret
Typing in my second rhyme to see what happens next

Up till second I've survived and I know I can't forget
All the words their in my head all the words with which I'm fed

Day and night, when the moon is bright, when the sun is high, in the clear blue sky
Night and day, when the clouds fly past, when the clouds move fast, when they float away

Mind minds it's own and my bones they let go
Of my body like a lobby and I float without control

09/03

Up into the wind with white wisdom on my chin, to the clouds, out and in out and in out and in
And we roll like crystal crows until the soothing night spins sin

Spins like cotton candy clings to my chin and church bells ring
They ring out of fear, to let us know that they're there
They tell us not to come closer
They tell us to justly dissapear

In the night, pitchblack, left for dead in the back
Of my trunk, in the rear, the darkness cries in fear

We light fires everywhere and forget

09/04

Three times in a row I've written rows of swervefull words, without counting, and when I've stopped writing to count the words I've written there have been 79 of them. All three times! Why 79? Why do I stop writing exactly at 79? This time I'll keep writing and stop writing when I think I've hit exactly one hundred, and I won't count the words this time, I'll just let it be, just stop. I'll leave it alone like this.

09/05

One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twentyone
Twentytwo
Twentythree
Twentyfour
Twentyfive
Twentysix
Twentyseven
Twentyeight
Twentynine
Thirty
Thirtyone
Thirtytwo
Thirtythree
Thirtyfour
Thirtyfive
Thirtysix
Thirtyseven
Thirtyeight
Thirtynine
Forty
Fortyone
Fortytwo
Fortythree
Fortyfour
Fortyfive
Fortysix
Fortyseven
Fortyeight
Fortynine
Fifty
Fiftyone
Fiftytwo
Fiftythree
Fiftyfour
Fiftyfive
Fiftysix
Fiftyseven
Fiftyeight
Fiftynine
Sixty
Sixtyone
Sixtytwo
Sixtythree
Sixtyfour
Sixtyfive
Sixtysix
Sixtyseven
Sixtyeight
Sixtynine
Seventy
Seventyone
Seventytwo
Seventythree
Seventyfour
Seventyfive
Seventysix
Seventyseven
Seventyeight
Seventynine
Eighty
Eightyone
Eightytwo
Eightythree
Eightyfour
Eightyfive
Eightysix
Eightyseven
Eightyeight
Eightynine
Ninety
Ninetyone
Ninetytwo
Ninetythree
Ninetyfour
Ninetyfive
Ninetysix
Ninetyseven
Ninetyeight
Ninetynine
Onehundred!

09/06

I write with delight with my visions set.
I want to reach a hundred but I'm not there yet!
I write with a smile on my painted face.
I write just to write just to write just to waste!

Space in this textbox, words that you left.
Words you didn't use when you to a hundred stepped.
I write for the challenge and I write just to see.
How many phrases of a hundred words I can flee.

I'm one step away from the phrase I pursuay
I pursue, everyday! Every night, full moon sways.
In the dark sky shimmering.

09/07

Why are you so weak? Why do you keep. Piling miles of leash to the niles of flesh. Why is Do deceased neath piles of plush? Do you feel the breeze? Why do you flee the streets? Why do you eat and eat? With a hunger that can't be satisfied, that takes you from your life, fills your soul with lifeless vibes. Why do you feel the lice? Why do you lease the ice? Why do you flee the freedom when you best need it? The world is wide, and greedy.

09/08

What AM I doing here? Wasting my viewtiful time on sensless mindboggling pieces of text people most probably won't even read, and after a century or two it'll be completely forgotten, hidden under piles of other garbagable junk the net keeps throwing out. We live in a world with too much information. We can't take all the information to us, not even the information we want to claim, and that gaping chunk of useful info we can't have is just growing larger by the decade. In the good old days people used to fight for the information, now it's irrelevant.

09/09

So where's the fun now? Where's the joy in telling tales? Mastering the different forms of speech to tell it the best way possible, learning new words, describing places with better phrases. Today everythings available in overflow, there's too much. There is infact so much knowledge that we have to prioratize and take to mind only what we think will be useful to us. We forget easier, we can't control the growing amounts of informations we keep, we're not happier for it - other way around. We should just forget about this modern technology and go back to peaceful cave life.

09/10

In the good old days we had everything. We had more food than we needed, we had social communities people couldn't isolate themselves from, we had laws that benefited mankinds future - strong surive, all of that - we still had fascination over the mysteries in the world. We didn't know about the universe outside our tiny piece of solid rock floating around in space defenseless to all dangers, our religions we're simple, we didn't have any economical trouble, no relationship trouble, no deadlines, no lack of physical activity, and the hardships we had we handled with our heads. The Good old times ...

09/11

It seems to me that computers just suck your energy right out of you. Even after a few days extremal exercise patterns, completely living outside the boxes that we call houses, feeling strong, happy, content - you come back inside the world with powerful steps shouting good considerations to all near neighbours and then after a few hours sitting infront of the bright informationlyfilled screen your back is bent like a half moon, you're eyes are tired, dry, and you're fingers ache from all the endevorous typing. It's just not healthy.

09/12

I have a thousand ideas about how to improve all this computerly sitting we age from, and it surprises me that noone else does, seemingly. At least noone with money, or the will to make money of others benfits. A few of the products I have in mind I'd rather save for the future, and produce them myself when I'm rich and maybe famous for a little extra pocketfillings, but let me tell you about dynamo. Dynamo is something I know barely nothing about, but I know it lets you through physical strength charge up certain energy sources.

09/13

The great thing about using physical energy to charge up certain sources is that it can be applied to anything you apply force to. Like: bicicles, flashlights, electric drills & probably even computers. All the energy you give in pressing down keyboard buttons could be transformed to electricity. It definetaly won't be enough to drive an entire computer, but it could contribute to it, at least it's an enviornmental insurance for the world. There could be pedals produced that you keep pumping infront of you while sitting to generate a little extra, or an exercise bike to charge it up before start.

09/14

It's been a few days since I walked away
Out through the door to New Jersey
It's been a few days since I came here to
Problem is I forgot what I came to do

I've wandered round the town, round and round, round and round
I've walked along the streets, up and down, up and down
I've talked to all the folks here just to get a clue
I've gone through a lot, but all to no ado.

Why am I here? What was I sent to find?
Can only feel fractions of my hopeful mind
No use, so I stay here confused

09/15

I used to like Limp Bizkit, I thought they were the greatest band in the world! And I still do, it seems like their music style has evolved in pace with my taste the past decade or so. I still listen to their first albums sometimes, but no longer with the same amazement as I did before. After all, it's just bad words and heavy rhythm. Some of the songs are really good, the music is good, DJ Lethal does a great job, but sometimes the amount of indecent words they use just seems way exaggerated. They're much better now.

09/16

Have I lost my inspiration? I find myself babbling on about things that have no use to me, or you, or anyone else for that matter. Like this. I suppose that's what happens when you try to fill a 30 day batch with one hundred word sections in two days. After a while all loses color, reason and difference. It all becomes just one big pile of garbagle. But that doesn't matter, no person here writes serious onehundred words commentaries anyhow, it's not needed. It's just supposed to be like this, like a fictionative driction of figmental war flares. Tomorrow.

09/17

I really love freeware. The word says it all, it is FREE, and it's still Warez! Technically all Warez are still free, but with free warez where it's all legal everything is so much better. The motive is good, couldn't be better, free programs, but the outcome isn't as groovy. Turns out most creators decide to include some kind of catch in their freeware application. Limitations or certain features that you can turn off only if you buy the "real version". So suddenly it's just like shareware, I'm all open for opensource programs now. The future of this foreign world!

09/18

I mentioned shareware, so lets talk some more about that. Do I like shareware? No, I like the name, and the concept of sharing instead of simply selling the programs is a good one as well, but who wants to use an uncomplete or limited program? It's old now when there are just as many opensource programs to be used, with much better features. In the good old days (not as far back as the stoneage this time) there used to be bigger gaps between shareware and freeware programs, and a multitude of similar licenses, but how about now?

09/19

Now those are all that's left. Not a tragedy, evolution, all for the better. I rarely ever visit the download sites I used to, packed with trials and freeware, nor do I buy programs in regular shops. I find most of what I need with creative licenses and the rest I use other methods to get ahold of. To shareware and freeware all I can say is: RIP. I hope they give you short and satisfying execution, and I'll be looking forward to taking care of OS sometime in the future as well, in hopes of better things to come.

09/20

I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting, I'm counting...

09/21

The twentyfirst September passed like any other day
The minutes ticked in the hour glass and the seconds blew away
The twentyfirst September I was riding the highway With the wind in my hair, sitting on a dark chair

Waiting and Waiting, for new times to come

The twentyfirst September I was staring at the sun
At its defiant glory, at the shine that it spun
Around and around, with it's head high above ground
Looking down upon us pawn, from early night to spawnful dawn
Waiting and Waiting, for new times to come

Lately, the whispers begun

09/22

I've written poems since I was ten, or even further back, I don't remember. And it's baffled me a bit, why I write poems, and why I like writing poems, what a poem contains that intrigues me? It's not the rhymes, always, not the format, not the fact that poetry is a sublime flow, scribble of subliminal messages. It's not the length of the lines, not the context, the content, nothing like that. It's just the words, the way their put together, maybe, maybe something deeper. The thing I don't like about these philosophical thoughts- they give no answers.

09/23

How many roads must a man walk down
I don't have a clue
How many roads must a man walk down
I don't think I do
How many roads must a man walk down
Does it apply to me, to you?
How many roads must a man walk down
42

How many roads must a man walk down
How many roads must a man walk now
How many roads must a man walk down
In this time where we walk like cows

Slow, bent over, not happy, unfast
The times that are, they will never, last
I hope

09/24

The twentyfourth
Is it an important date?
Does it mean something to me?
The numbers are even
The numbers they double
Is there a pattern?
Does something follow?
Can there be a reason behind something we made up in The first place?
Should I take my time today
Or should I give it away
Should I waste it
Or waste my life using time like I had no other
No other

Should I speak for others who say
Or should I speak about myself
Should I speak about the delay
That we keep for something else

Tomorrow
Maybe Tomorrow
Maybe Then

09/25

Don't!
Don't try to leave these lines undefined like a road three hundred years old

Don't!
Don't try to hide you're crimes when times come that they crash and take some

Don't!
Say you won't or you will when you stay and stand still

Just be ready, just be ready, be prepared, for those who see

Don't!
Say you believe me, say you see clearly, say that you know

Don't!
Stand out in the cold with the heaters ablazing beneath your window

Don't!
Be lethal, be easy, please

Just be ready, just be ready, be prepared, for those who see

09/26

Round and round we go!
Around the woven folds!
That flow down our smooth roads
And roll by our windows

They smell, they reek, they define
The borders of grass they reside beside
The streaking monsters rely on
Dotted white lines inside

Round and round we go! Around the slower sloth!
We drink it up and cough
And gurge and complain and complain

They stink, they sting, they are
The universe is filled with cars
And they all roll along predefined paths
Under the bloodred stars

Round and round we go!
Around the roads that roll
Up and Down
And Down

09/27

I have a cup of tea infront of me, Salvia tea, herbal, great for the the throat. It resides in a regularly sized tea cup with two closed eyes, a stroll of red hearts rising up on one side, a smiling mouth with dimples and a multidimensional nose that makes this cup so very special. Green is my favorite color, the favorite gradient being a mixture of matt nature and light neon. I can't describe it, but I could post the hexadecimal value, but what use are hexadecimals in the real world. None.

09/28

There are
There were
There will
Always be
A place
For someone
Someone like
Like me

There was
There is
There will
Always be
A place
To where
Us humans
Can flee

And hide
Through life
And life
And die
And hide
In side
All lined
With lies

And reap
The rows
Of corn
We close
In side
Our closet
And hope
We hold

The key
In our
Barren hands

There is
There was
And yet
So still
The shade
In which
The rest
Rest will

But I
Have a place
That is special

09/29

Endless
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09/30

When it's over, that's the time that I have time again. That's the time I take my time to waste my time and enjoy the toys and gadgets that define my life as so near sublime. But what's happiness without a little doubt, there has to be a balance or all good will fall out. There has to be malice for there to be good, so we should appreciate everything, we should. I spin lines like cobwebs on the sear, everything in panic, yet sl crystal clear. If you see it you can make a change you need. Do whatever you like, indeed.

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