[Peppy]

Roses Are Red, The Last Time I looked

Did you ever see someone that was the exact replicate of you? I don’t mean in physical aspects and features. I mean the inside--inside the void of ourselves. You recognize the weaknesses you’ve grown accustomed to and the shamefulness of never getting what you wanted. You see it in your replicated being, walking around like a portrait which taunts you, “This is always going to happen. There’s nothing you can do about it. Round and round and we all fall down.” The walking portrait you hate to stare at is existing. The only hope is that the tear you hated is gone or, the very least, repaired itself.

But I wonder why we can’t see the strengths in us? It must be a blind-sight, or ignorance.


The Dakota for the Professionals Protocol

There are problems higher than any god can predict. All the crap-face cream is a downside to all that I remember, I’m not even sure if there is an origin point. Sometimes I search for the monkeys in the trees for the answers and I’m deeply disappointed to find none. What other animal throws crap at each other? Even if it’s a banal congruence, I find it’s a popular phrase I can still use.

Why all the wickedness? We are seeping some sort of venom into our veins and is instantly frozen to immobilize us. Time, time, and more time makes us go crazy that we try to occupy it by doing crap-face cream things. All of our primal instinct is now transferred to our civilized actions which at times can seem uncivilized.

Cultivate all the cows and herd them into the mouth of hell. Maybe that’s where all the crap-face cream is coming from, but from the exit I call an asshole. Crap-face cream is everywhere. Fun-ness.


There's No Such Thing as a Last Time, There's Only Stopping

I thought I would never say what I needed to say, but I guess I need it to type down whatever I am feeling now.

With contempt of the advent of forgotten children there is an unconceivable future to shape the better. Skipping ropes are used to hang their bodies. Snowballs made of bombs. Taunts that cut like knives. The shallow existence of father and mother goes down in the plaintive and selfish addictions they find no satisfaction in--no breathe of fresh air, only the putrid smell of garbage in their nostrils. Their nerve capillaries are caught in a burn never to be soothed.

Like some domino effect, the actions done now are the same actions that are going to be done until the end of time. All the acts of good will be ridiculed and thought of as “fagot acts” and “goodie two shoes”. They don’t understand how it feels to be good, being bad is just far too easy of a path to walk. If there’s no effort to clean the crap off our shoes, why shouldn’t we feel like we stink?

We blame other people for the deformed shape we’re in. You point fingers or scream at others with rage you tried so hard to bury. You’ll keep going down the rabbit hole if you follow what’s in your mind and not what’s in your heart, the thing you wish you could forget but can’t. That‘s--what I conclude--the whole point to Alice In Wonderland.

[tathi]

i'm having trouble trying to edit this because i'm not sure what you're trying to get across, you have some really insightful points in there but they get lost among the indiscernible ramblings, here are some little changes that wont change the overall meaning (whatever it is

I mean the inside--inside the void within ourselves.

Why all the wickedness? Some sort of venom is involuntarily seeping into all of our veins. It clogs our arteries with this malevolent muck, immobilising us until all we can do is crap-cream face things.

Rage buried deep within us points its disfigured finger and screams at the deformities in others.

[Peppy]

Hee hee hee, you are a very clever observer. It is true that these are ramblings; I'm starting to collect my ramblings, I don't want my "unusual" thought to slip away. It makes me human, even though I don't feel like it.

Keep commenting like this, with honesty and helpfulness, you'll get the tip of a hat and a lot of reputation points(I'll start you off).

[Gurdit]

It's easier to comment to your content here rather than your writing. There are a couple of tiny hiccups, missing words, etc. etc., but I'm pretty sure you can iron them out yourself if you read this again. Or I would, if I was less lazier. On to the content then!

The first part was my favourite. It was easier to understand (and relate to?) than the others. Ok, I couldn't really relate to it, because for me, it's easier to find my monster within me on introspection. I often find that I hate myself, and many times I find that I love myself. Sometimes, I could kill myself, and other times I'd give my life to save me. I hope that makes sense. The point I'm trying to make is that sometimes your replica doesn't make you hate yourself, it can make you love yourself. Also, I personally think that with time, we forget our bad memories and remember the good ones. That's that, of course, but that's not what you said. You said "But I wonder why we can’t see the strengths in us? It must be a blind-sight, or ignorance." Well, I'll tell you how I think it is. Some of us are always trying to be better people, so much so, that we humbly play down our strengths and instead focus on our weaknesses and defects that we can overcome them.

The second part...well, I...wait, let me read it again.
*goes off to read it again*
Ok, I think it made a little more sense to me now. Problem is...I don't know what to say about it except that as a community and as a species, I've lost faith in our ability to live collectively. That being said, not all of us are so bad.

For the third part, I yet again say the same thing I said a couple of lines ago.

[Peppy]

I ironed it as best as I could, without distorting my writing-style (which is blunt and curved).

I'll give you a clue on the third part, it is about neglected children and the intergenerational effects of parents.

Thanks for the comment, Gurdit or whoever you are this week.

[RENA HANDS]

APPLAUDS to the coloring!

Would it be more flowing to say, Did you ever see the (that) someone (who) was the exact (replica) of you?

U are after all speaking of just urself? Yes?

Possibly…We are seeping some sort of venom into our veins and (it) instantly freezes to immobilize us.(?)

Possibly…but I guess I (needed) to type down whatever I am feeling now.(?)

U mean…they find no satisfaction in—(nor) breathe of fresh air,

The period should be on the inside here…‘goodie two shoes.’

Possibly…You point fingers or scream at others with (the) rage (that) you tried so hard to bury.(?)

I am not sure what my thoughts are on this post, so for now u’ll just have to accept my inquires…lol