Lucem, you're right, it's silly to talk about what I would or wouldn't do IRL. Glad you brought it up. Maybe you should write an instrumental about it. I recommend a piano paired with a clarinet. With ambient sounds of you hanging from your shower curtain you ****ing failure.

Lucem, you're right, it's silly to talk about what I would or wouldn't do IRL. Glad you brought it up. Maybe you should write an instrumental about it. I recommend a piano paired with a clarinet. With ambient sounds of you hanging from your shower curtain you ****ing failure.

Originally Posted by J.R.R. Tolkien There is only one bright spot and that is the growing habit of disgruntled men of dynamiting factories and power-stations; I hope that, encouraged now as ‘patriotism’, may remain a habit! But it won’t do any good, if it is not universal.

Lucem, you're right, it's silly to talk about what I would or wouldn't do IRL. Glad you brought it up. Maybe you should write an instrumental about it. I recommend a piano paired with a clarinet. With ambient sounds of you hanging from your shower curtain you ****ing failure.

Originally Posted by J.R.R. Tolkien There is only one bright spot and that is the growing habit of disgruntled men of dynamiting factories and power-stations; I hope that, encouraged now as ‘patriotism’, may remain a habit! But it won’t do any good, if it is not universal.

The Stolen and Random Mail

- A Poem by elphenor -

Whose mail is that? I think I know.
Its owner is quite sad though.
It really is a tale of woe,
I watch him frown. I cry hello.

He gives his mail a shake,
And sobs until the tears make.
The only other sound's the break,
Of distant waves and birds awake.

The mail is stolen, random and deep,
But he has promises to keep,
Until then he shall not sleep.
He lies in bed with ducts that weep.

He rises from his bitter bed,
With thoughts of sadness in his head,
He idolises being dead.
Facing the day with never ending dread.




https://www.poem-generator.org.uk/

Originally Posted by jwb A middle class job sounds like a boring menu option at a brothel

Originally Posted by Psy-Fi The Stolen and Random Mail - A Poem by elphenor - Whose mail is that? I think I know. Its owner is quite sad though. It really is a tale of woe, I watch him frown. I cry hello. He gives his mail a shake, And sobs until the tears make. The only other sound's the break, Of distant waves and birds awake. The mail is stolen, random and deep, But he has promises to keep, Until then he shall not sleep. He lies in bed with ducts that weep. He rises from his bitter bed, With thoughts of sadness in his head, He idolises being dead. Facing the day with never ending dread. https://www.poem-generator.org.uk/

Originally Posted by J.R.R. Tolkien There is only one bright spot and that is the growing habit of disgruntled men of dynamiting factories and power-stations; I hope that, encouraged now as ‘patriotism’, may remain a habit! But it won’t do any good, if it is not universal.