Dream | work | poem

in #meme16 days ago

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The wheels of the bus go round and round

His mother left him with me for a couple minutes to learn sign some language. He then started moving his hands and arms in anger. I couldn't understand what was going on or why he was angry. I couldn't understand what he was trying to say. He could read lips and I just kept going what? What? What do you want? Why you angry?

Then his mom came running to him and grabbed him and told me he was having an epileptic episode.

Ffs

I never seen an epileptic episode the way he was having it. I thought he was cussing at me or something. Like what the fuck is up with this kid? Do I punch him in the gut? Call the hospital? What?

And the great part was, she understood my point of view and even laughed when I said that above. At least she has a sense of humor. Bonus points. So we went out to get a bite to eat, then as I'm crossing the street to grab a drink from the store, a bus runs me over. And then I woke up.

Wtf. That was a dream!?

I remember the smell of her perfume, the laughter and her sweet voice. The sounds of passing cara, birds chirping, the breeze of the air, etc. i remember the pain of being hit by the bus. I never been hit by a bus in my life.

I am dumbfounded by how realistic dreams can be to even trick your bodies 5 senses.

I woke up feeling immense pain on my front side of my body for a few seconds as I woke up from the shock of it all.

Do others not experience this or is this just me?

Good Mourning I guess.

Not even out of bed yet and I'm already getting traumatized.


I wrote a poem this morning but didn't quite finish it and now I don't remember how it was going to end. It started off a bit dark but was going to progressively get to something positive and have a deeper meaning. That was the intention anyway.

So here's another untitled poem I hope you enjoy. And no it has nothing to do with the dream. Or maybe it does. IDK.

I was listening to prophets of war by dream theater and I was motivated to write a poem based on 911 events. I didn't finish because I had to leave for work.

Poem is down below in the next page divider if you want to skip ahead.

But this is what I got to look forward to today and tomorrow. An industrial air compressor. And boy is it dirty.

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So first is first. Getting this cleaned up so we can work on it, take it apart and clean internal parts and change them if it needs it.

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Yes, this is going to take all day just cleaning.

And we cleaned all day between the engineer and I.

My hands were way to dirty to show you in pictures the progress of it. But I would say we have 75% cleaned from top to bottom. Enough to take apart the main engine tomorrow.

Smoking weed and cleaning while jamming. The day was pretty good I would say. I could be digging trenches to lay electrical down.


IDK. Poem. No title.

Proof of writing:

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Editing a little too

Where's my 1911
They've just dished out 9-11
I'm only 7
Thousands burned alive
how many gone to heaven.

Right in between the lines you see the patterns in the rhymes
Millions murdered by the state and who will pay for their crimes
We the people isn't that great, when their the ones who put the fines
When will the sheep Le ever read the signs

So I guess it's up to me
Walk with me if you agree
Follow the rings in the tree
This is all a fantasy
Towers fall to the 33rd degree
Heros die when the holy cup spills free

The hour is dark and all I see is ashes
Listen to the sound of the crashes
Bodies flying around thousand glass slashes

Let's head for cover
Here comes another
Don't tell your mother
Go grab her brother
It's off to war amongst each other

What is the real story
Are we in hell or is this purgatory
"Sounds of the bell gives us your glory
raise another shell and make them sorry"

Wait a minute there
This is not the way
No need to poke the bear
Let us all live another day
Internal flame that burning
Shine the light today
Tell the world that's churning

Go fight for the right to fight back
No attack unto the pack we don't lack the sight

We need to see and stop the media crazy they make us lazy with idiocy like Beyonce and jay Zee

It's all a trick to ick your pick in the next el lick they dick up your chick and now she's a hick with a new hat how slick

Wake up to the sounds of the bell
You've entered the spell
Take a dive into the well
She'll be coming for you don't yell

Until we meet again
In the hour of the insane
Go and fetch your pain
You have everything to gain




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The most vivid and most powerful dream your mind ever concocted to exist for you is the one your living in right now.

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You know what's great about burning my rewards, I don't have to follow your stupid rules. Nor am I obligated to keep up with a schedule on your behalf. I write what I want, when I want how I want.

Peace!
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"I write what I want, when I want how I want."

The essence of free speech.

Thanks!

!LOL

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