

A poemIt makes me feel uncomfortable, the way you look at me; Expecting me to be something that I can never be. I'd like to be a novel, but there's no use in pretending - I'm a poem, one short stanza, and I'm ending.A poem


The fightShe is shouting at him. He is shouting at her.The fight
They halt on your arrival, and stare - they did not see you approach. It seems that it is true: you cannot observe the action without affecting it. I forget whether it is Heisenberg or Schrödinger I should thank for this trick.
Never mind; as the author, I can lead you behind a veil and allow the couple to continue. They will forget we were here.
"You always tell me what to do!" she says, irritation showing in her voice. Her shoulders tensed, face obscured by her hair, looking at the ground. "And whenever I do things my way, you act like I'm a huge disa
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The existence of flamethrowers proves that someone, somewhere, at sometime, said: "I need to set that thing on fire, but it's too far away."
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The existence of flamethrowers proves that someone, somewhere, at sometime, said: "I need to set that thing on fire, but it's too far away."
I'm good thanks. Though I do seem to have strained a muscle in my back at some point today, so I'm having issues finding a comfortable position to sit in. It seems I can sit comfortably, but if I try to find a position in which I can also type then it hurts. So writing this reply is taking a small age. I hope you're suitably impressed by the lengths I'll go through to reply to you
You don't have to be that impressed, it's ok.
And my hand hurts from 2 hours of mandolin practice. But that's self inflicted and needs no sympathy either.
I'm sure I have other more exciting things to tell you but I can't think of anything right now.
So instead I've got you this nice penguin
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The existence of flamethrowers proves that someone, somewhere, at sometime, said: "I need to set that thing on fire, but it's too far away."
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