Colorless Green Ideas

I am hunting you you leave a trail of black and red your smell You better watch yourself your dirty blonde hair your amber tan line and god those tattoos All . Of. Them.

I love you I fucking Love You I love the taste of Your Pussy I love the play between you and me You are like a tigress I am the hunter Corbet Bachelor of Chowndigarrh I love you I fucking Love You I love the way we fuck free I love the open honesty You are like a goddess I am the Oracle at Delphi I am the knight in shining armor Riding to your crusade I love you. I fucking love you. I've loved how we love how we cherish how we grow I'd write it over and over and over I want you in my life I want to be in yours I love you I fucking love you I love you Always

That one who was never 'found' And the one who loved you in a special way that involved writing all of those letters with special pen and ink and design It's dare. The world sees them weak and less And they slowly turn into dust So the cold Boston air fills your lungs after a Bong Rip and me and you and Ted The talking bear

What's a Daemon? It's a background process, in hackspeak. It's a program running at a lower priority thread, always running - on your computer. And they go runaway. They break. Sometimes you have to shut them down. The Trump cabinet is composed of Daemons. Trump is a Daemon. But he is not the most powerful daemon. There is a king of the Daemons. HE is hidden. He is so evil you cannot begin to imagine. The master of puppets. Resist. Peace.

I realized slowly with horror that everyone around me somehow has lost a simple part of being human I realized slowly with horror as I walked to the square that there were far too many who were there and not there People who were afraid to feel and yet feelings washed over them like rain Feelings that they could not explain Driving them on to push open the door to a new fascism I pictured them standing at a rally in salute to their heroic leader I pictured them marching down the street murdering those who were just a little different I pictured them so far gone that nothing will bring them back And I was scared And then the cold rain began to fall as I walked home turning the street into a mirror And a sense of calm washed over me as rain washes away dust And I remembered such a long time to be gone such a short time to be there

"The more obvious the failure becomes, the more shamelessly they [the prohibitionists] exhibit their genuine motives. In plain words, what moves them is the psychological aberration called sadism. They lust to inflict inconvenience, discomfort, and whenever possible, disgrace upon the persons they hate — which is to say, upon everyone who is free from their barbarous theological superstitions, and is having a better time in the world than they are." "They cannot stop (getting high), nor even appreciably diminish it, but they can badger and annoy everyone who seeks to use it decently, and they can fill the jails with men taken for purely artificial offences, and they can get satisfaction thereby for the Puritan yearning to browbeat and injure, to torture and terrorize, to punish and humiliate all who show any sign of being happy. And all this they can do with a safe line of policemen and judges in front of them; always they can do it without personal risk." — f