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the aliens are coming!!!!!

and it's gonna be like the best birthday christmas newyears ever!!!!!!

the third poetry collection from T Edward Bowen the poet formerly known as Pope Tymn Olboyfloats

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THER TITLES BY T Edward Bowen: Hallucinating Arkansas From the Mouths of Babes to the Pit of Despair Jonesboria Discordia Voices of Choas

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ISBN-13:

978-1478168539

ISBN-10:

1478168536

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons AttributionShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

first printing 2012

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Ritual for Summoning ODB
Materials needed: 1 40oz bottle of malt liquor 1 cigar wrap filled with marijuana (AKA a "Blunt") 1 rock of crack cocaine 1 crack pipe 1 Newport cigarette 1 Anilingus virgin (someone who has never had their butt hole licked) Preparation: Draw the Wu Tang "W" logo into the ground Call the corners: To the east yell the sacred name "DIRT DOG" and take a large drink of the malt liquor, then give a shout out to the Eskimos To the south yell the sacred name "BIG BABY JESUS" and take a large hit off of the blunt, then give a shout out to the submarines To the west yell the sacred name "ASON UNIQUE" and take a large hit of crack, then give a shout out to yourself To the north yell the sacred name "OL DIRTY BASTARD" and take a large hit of the Newport, then give a shout out to the Wu Tang Clan Begin Ritual: Yell the sacred words "Yo, I'm the cunt breath asshole eater, and if you let me physically eat it, it only get.." Then burp loudly. Place the sacred virgin in the center of the W. Eat the asshole while constantly using the word "Napkin" Achieve orgasm and yell "NUMBER ONE I LIVE AT MY MAMA'S HOUSE" At this point the ghost should appear, and can grant one favor. Choose wisely.

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Let Your Freak Flag Fly with a Mogwai
I have a dream that we will all stand together in one large, celebratory orgy of high fives and I won't even rub it in with lots of "I told you so's" and we'll all hurt less after and less intensely and it won't constantly feel like we're surrounded by retarded barbarians no one would be as incessantly absolutist or afraid our bodies will become a source of pleasure instead of shame and guilt no one will have to work all communication will be clearer and every day we will find new liberation more connections more solutions oh I don't want to be wrong about this and it sure doesn't seem like i am but i accept my doubts I know that most of what I see is not what is in front of me I know that most of my memories are fabricated I know that I have been wrong The English language is unique in it's capability for double speak you say one thing, I hear another confusion is the rule, not the exception so excuse me if I misunderstood I only hear things with my pride I can only understand you in the context of my experience imagination is a blessing and a curse so many people are stuck in a FALSE reality lost in mass hallucination arguments and wars waged over speculation and yet, all advances, all progress, all wonders are born from nothing more than imagination you are not, and I am not, the destroyer I'm not the first, and I will not be the last dreamer trying to live in a better world as an escape

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into that naive optimistic hope maybe we're all just entertainers I hate that I feel like I have to stand here and argue with myself so that I don't feel like I'm patronizing and pandering "oh don't you worry your sweet head everything will be ok" "time heals all wounds" and other tired cliché's I love that I can stand here I love this stage I love so much, that I am now in pain I love that I am no longer afraid to speak my mind even if I haven't made up my mind I love that I can already see a new day on the horizon I just wish I could show it to you I want to teach everyone this awesome new trick that I just learned it's called forgiveness I just want to not feel so hopelessly alone I don't understand why I feel so compelled to say the word "Fuck" so often FUCK FUCK FUCK what have I done? Oh wow I hope I make it through this And that is a regular situation I find myself in and usually, I do make it through it boarders make me angry I want out but some old man drew a line on a map and now there's fences and men with guns I'm not trespassing, I just wanted to go on a fucking walk look over that fence see if it's another fucking lie yeah I know most of this is a shameless cry for attention and by the way, thank you for that, it means alot to me but I do feel like I have something important to say it's something about love and tolerance and transcendence and how those three things could save us all hold on one second what was I talking about? oh yeah, my constant inner battle

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between existential despair and utopian idealism i never did walk the middle road I can't always control how I feel or how I react I'm having compassion withdraw I crave constant affection and reassurance I need to see a doctor Please just agree with me This is a desperate land, and I can be a desperate man NO, that's not at all what I meant I'm sure that I will feel completely different tomorrow that is, if nothing changes every single number in this phone is making me uncontrollably sad and hey! what? why are you standing up all the sudden, Mr. Penis? What is even slightly arousing about this situation, you fucking traitor!? I have two irrational minds and now you've taken over here? now? well isn't that great? what was your name again? I recognize your face you're so distant. you're so familiar it's getting harder every day just waking up and crawling out of bed with these dreams in my head know that when I leave for work, the dreaming has to end Shut up. Shut up. I've already done this This already happened stereo speakers keep popping constant crackling this is temporary no one knows when things will change but it seems like it's coming soon if I had faith I might even pray right now ask for help. ask for favors but I don't want to share credit with Santa Claus If we do get a better world it should be because we earned it because we deserve it they do, absolutely, owe us a living. Of course fuck you none of these words are mine I did not invent this language

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I am merely chained to it I have needs I have unmet needs I need a back rub and a cigarette I have the privilege to be obese I have the luxury to get my feelings hurt too easy I have an uncanny ability to fall in love with anyone who is sweet to me I have been enabled to the point where I am completely unreliable I am a communist sympathizer and I have sympathy for the devil I root for the underdog I shed a tear when the first missiles fell of Afghanistan So what? Big deal. What am I trying to prove? I am a sadist but I can't stand cruelty doing flips on my mood swings you know what? NO! maybe I'm not the crazy one I don't want to hurt anyone I try to be accepting of all people I actively seek to better myself I do not act out of ignorance or hate I try to make the lives of the people I care about have some meaning and humor I just want a better world I think it is possible and I'm trying to do something about it maybe I should tell you that everything is going to get much worse so you can make a better world just to spite me seems like a fair trade seems like something I would never do seems like another grand cop out if you call this shit poetry you might as well call me an artist and you can call this my statement of confusion a gentle whisper to your subconscious mind a well earned distraction from your troubled life exit the clown stage left. And now... here comes the rain this isn't an audition I'm already in the game I paid all my dues, I make my own rules this isn't an act, I really am the clown, the fool

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this idea is a tool use it. run with it. I can't say no my memories are softcore and I'm making plans for hardcore I'm tired of hiding behind codes and metaphor I've gone too far to start holding back now I'm painted in the corner with my own brush I don't have time to re-negotiate I want to scream "you're either on the bus, or off the bus!" but I have no bus maybe I should get a bus I can't afford a bus... yet

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It's Called Freedom of Speech, Faggot
There's such a thing as a protected class in America You know, races. The niggers, the heebs, the spicks, the crackers, the zipper-heads People have no choice what race they are, or what skin color they are So, we have to protect them from printing such words in a newspaper Because that would be offensive, and illegal But not you faggots. Because, you know, you obviously decided to be a queer, didn't you? And it's not like those words hurt, do they faggot? It's called freedom of speech, faggot It's not like every gay man in America has been beaten hearing those words Sometimes by a whole lot of people all at once But oh, we used to hang niggers from trees so watch your mouth when talking about race, you faggot The last thing you want is anyone to think you're an anti-semite, or a racist Those things are obviously terrible But homophobia is totally cool, right? Hurts no one, right? Fuck, why not print the word "Queer" in the newspaper? Stop being such a sensitive, girly man, you fag It's called freedom of speech, faggot It was just an opinion piece, you know? Like how AIDS is some imaginary "god's" cure for all these filthy fags The Bible says God Hates Fags It never says God Hates Niggers, unless you read the Book of Mormon. But that's just fan-fiction, right faggot? It's called freedom of speech, faggot you hear that? you hear that? what did you say? WHAT DID YOU SAY?

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What Happened?
Why are all the hippies pessimists and cynics now? Why are the revolutionaries all paranoid? When did deactivating your facebook account become so trendy? Why is it that shrugging off one of the greatest achievements of our society is so hip? Don't we realize that this new connectivity is a blessing? Why are the secular people suddenly freaking out about Armageddon? This digital age was born out of great optimism. These problems we face are not unsolvable. There will NOT be a "zombie Apocalypse." We are not "killing the earth," and have no reason to act so god damn ashamed of who we are. Why are the youth telling me how the "old ways" were better? What is so wrong with the lives we're currently living? What is so scary about the world we're approaching? Pessimism does not equate to "realism." It is not more "realistic" to assume the worst. Pessimism is a mental deficiency. The human brain is the greatest problem solver ever created, and if you can't figure out solutions to the problems you're facing, then you are squandering one of the greatest gifts that you have ever been given. The solution is NOT to just give up, deactivate your facebook, and start telling everyone how "the world will end." That only makes you part of the problem. That only makes your life worse. You are only hurting yourself. STOP IT. Want to know what is real? Out of millions of potential sperm, you were the ONE who made it. You, from the time of conception, have a history of victory. Do not throw that away in a vain attempt to fit in with all these trendy cynics. The Television is not distorting reality or making you dumber. The Television is an appliance. It is a tool. It can be used however you decide to use it. Did you ever think that not only can you set the

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programming, but that you can create the programming?

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GOD DAMN TITLES!!!
Ok. I'm just brainstorming here for no good reason. Ideas for next poetry collection's title: The Hedonism Imperative (Yeah I know fuck you I like to copy things) 23 Ways to Piss off Vegans (eh. I just think it sounds funny, especially if there's more than 23 poems in the collection) American Teenagers are Boring and Morose (I like it, but it sounds kinda like an emo band's name) I Came here to Worship Satan and Eat Pancakes, and I'm all out of Pancakes (best one so far in my book) Prometheus Sits Back Down and Shares a Shrug with Atlas (The most pretentious thing I could think of) Untitled Future Poems (Or is calling a book "untitled" by far the most pretentious thing I could think of? Would this title work better with quotation marks? Ironic quotation marks even?) And, of course, there's all this "Bob" damned unfinished business I have to get to. For one, do I even bother finishing the first Confessions of a Lunatic Pope book yet? Or, should it ferment a bit more? I still have a little bit of work on Jonesboria Discordia Part II that still needs to be finished. Of course, that one is not in my hands. (Wink wink, nudge nudge). I did also just start this whole T ymnal thing. I'm fairly certain that will be it's own book, Eris Willing. Wasn't I also working on a project where I just wrote awful, bleak prose in comic sans? Fuck, I can't even keep up with myself. Oh well, I don't arbitrarily call myself A Lunatic Pope for nothing. Or do I?

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The Splendid Observers
O to entertain! To bathe in a sea of welcoming receivers! Lend me your ears, your eyes, your glorious attention! Allow me to transform my pain into your applause! I make a sacrifice of my privacy my inner dialogue my darkest secrets To attend this consecrated congregation, the fellowship of splendid observers! Lose yourself in the illusion of my importance as I construct a new mythology. A de-evolution of self The monkey! The man! The performer! And all that is sacred is the stage! The divine venue! The holy lights! To influence your emotions I am become a conduit To be less than an average human I float above the background conversation! You! The audience! A beast with a million shining eyes!

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The Ballad of New Jesus
Have you heard the news? There's a new Jesus in town! He's awesome like Rambo and rocks harder than Dethklok. He's an imperialist and a capitalist and drinks whiskey all day. New Jesus is cool with the gays and all forms of perversion. He adds extra fluoride to his water because he's a chemical superman. He sodomizes goats and mocks the beggars. He flips over tables with his cock and charges extra interest. New Jesus is punk rock and goth and hipster scum. He feeds the five thousand with steak and cheddar biscuits. He makes his own ice cream at home! He owns a micro-brew! He's unapologetic and is certain that America fucking rules! One of his arms is a Russian SKS, and the opposite leg is a regenerating carrot stick. He walks around town screaming profanities at children. New Jesus don't need no mustang. New Jesus just lets his nuts hang. He craves the stank. He rides on a white tiger. He has a recipe for dope and needs you to go buy Sudafed. He slams rocks harder than Charlie Sheen and sings like James Brown. New Jesus has a PHD in Philosophy of Ancient Religions. He has mutton chops, tats, gauges, and is the leader of the sexual revolution. His favorite band is Arcade Fire and he's not afraid to admit it. New Jesus isn't here to save anyone. He's just here to party. And if you find salvation in his partying, please remember it was you who touched his robes.

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Untitled Future Poem #6
My friend is allergic to the overlords and I find that just tragic She'll never be able to pet a request She'll never know their magic My friend is allergic to happiness and can't get out of his head He'll never see how much we love him He'll never understand our dread I wish my hands could heal them But all I can do is smile My brother is allergic to medicine I used to think I was allergic to love We all have our afflictions We all have our addictions It helps to love tragedy

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Untitled Future Poem #5
while odd implement congratulate the useful man the scandal contracts a storm. the useful man recovers the syndicate. yap my yahoos. yap yap each long boundary chews within my purpose I only do it because I can Such comfort and joy, that I was reminded of the time when I first realized that I did not, in fact, give myself brain damage you gave me a dream where I was something great The flipping believer mails a garbled herd. The tobacco rockets within a heated master. The respectable comedy colors underneath a united fashion. each new breath is another reason to keep living you gave me a dream where I just kept on giving

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Untitled Future Poem #4
If love really is a game, then we should play in a way where everyone wins There are ways to play that can do this Monogamy is counter intuitive to the game If we are all going to win, we can't single anyone out There can be no more "One And Only" There must be many! That way no one is "cheating," and we all play fair If love is a game we're all playing we can't take sides There can be no more "Gay or Straight" This is not a game where you have to declare loudly that you're only playing with half of the planet Play with everybody! If love really is a game, then we should all be honest With ourselves and with each other Why not use all of our resources to play a better game? If we are playing a GAME why not have FUN?

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Being Told That I Have Gone Too Far
I suppose it's a good sign, in my line of work, to be told that I've gone too far It is true that one day I simply decided to become this "Lunatic Pope" I suppose a poetic interpretation could be that this life chose me Perhaps the universe woke up one day, and decided that it needed a 30 something, neck-bearded chubby man to decide that he could worship Discord and then decide randomly that other things can be gods like Korean pop stars, and cartoons about ponies, and Ladies who are Gaga Because, PUnctuation BE dAMned, all "gods" only exist in our heads our funny, pretty, silly little heads I like to think it doesn't matter what anyone thinks of my existence. My thoughts on the subject seem to vary from day to day I have stopped caring "What a Poem Is" I've decided that everything I do is poetry. And I'm only writing for my own amusement I guess it's cool if someone else likes it I don't feel the need to be an Idealist anymore I don't want to be "Principled" Sometimes my inner dialog has a British accent and I really can't explain why All joking aside, I rather enjoy this Lunatic Pope fellow.

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Untitled Future Poem #2
The future entitles Strange Customs throughout the bogus sand. Strange trifles are the bugs agony. A stereo star slashes the future. The spotted stress rates Strange into the giant royal.In the future she lurks opposite any honest mate. The undesirable biography prosecutes. The duff monkey raves under a defeated soldier. Why can't this retaining accountant see the dry strange customs? Strange customs jacks a cry from my eye. Strange customs camps opposite the guiding male. The future disappears across strange customs.

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Untitled Future Poem #3
Her dress reads! The shocking cave gifts comfort above all choices. An owner horns the vocabulary. Opposite his anarchy fusses comfort. It really is all dancing flowers and her dress. Comfort accommodates control hypocritical concern Are we better off for all of this civilization? Will all these robots make us sterile? The salesman retracts control. The delicious effect condones more comfort. Comfort imports the whatever-historian across an uncommon beach. How will the helicopter mutter past the untidy postscript? Any literate process cooperates across the egg. Time fluctuation persists.

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The Hipster Oath
I shall only ever enjoy Approved Entertainment. I shall treat those who do not enjoy Approved Entertainment with scorn. I shall mock those who have not heard of any Approved Entertainment. I shall wear a uniform that displays my Approved Entertainment choices. I shall try to associate with only those who share my Approved Entertainment choices. All entertainment that is not Approved Entertainment shall be regarded as "Garbage." All people who enjoy "Garbage" Entertainment are my enemy. Repeat this oath 666 times every night to avoid enlightenment. Unnecessary glasses are optional.

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Untitled Future Poem #1
While the drones chase paper, I'm collecting Whuffie. In my mind, I'm already partially in the post-singularity world. Why worry about religious nuts when a real revolution is underway, and inevitable? All Death Cults of Abraham will be rendered moot once scarcity and death are no longer an issue. I got some appreciation I'd like to share. Remember that the Illuminati are the good guys. Watch us overthrow the monarchies of Europe.

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How I Learned to Stop Working and Love the Bob
Greetings from the first couple hours of 2012. It is now a few days since I pulled the wool over my own eyes, let Bob Dobbs into my bank account, and became comfortable in my own delusions. The entire year of 2011 I worked at a "Normal Job" only one day. It is the absolute most I have ever been connected to HOLY SLACK. Also, this last year I started making Passive Income Sources. So far, I have successfully earned enough with Google Ads to receive 2 payments, have added some music to internet radio services like Spotify and Rhapsody (Use it? Look me up, listen to me, and make me some royalties without spending any money), and have been coming up with new and clever ideas to constantly be generating revenue without having any "Job." So, why don't you Become an Ordained Minister NOW, ALSO? I'm pretty sure it'll be worth it for you. I'm pretty happy about it, and can't wait to do all the things Ordained Ministers only can do. (I don't want the Stark Fist of Removal to take away my DIVINE SLACK, so I'm not going to list those off here where PINKS could be reading.)

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A Lunatic's Maxims: Part One
Once you go black, you may never go back; however, once you go Pope, everything is dope. I'm suffering from a temporary lack of fame. Whenever 3 dudes are hanging out, Jesus is the 4th dude. I was high and it seemed like a good idea at the time. Take the vodka soaked tampon out of your butt. Sometimes it's fun to google "Satanic New World Order," and get excited about all the fun stuff in our near future. The two worst things in this world are being sober and being alone. When all else fails, simply say the words "Ron Paul."

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A Lunatic's Pantheon
Just because I don't BELIEVE in any Gods or Goddesses, doesn't mean I don't admire any of them. I have a varied pantheon that I play with in my head. These aren't your normal deities by any means, but they suit my needs. Eris Discordia Eris is the Greek Goddess of Chaos, Confusion, Bureaucracy, Foreign Affairs, and Discord. Eris is a lot like my first love. We still get along, and I still care about her, but I honestly don't spend as much time with her as I used to. Sure, I still write Discordian Holy Books, and am a Pope of Eris, and still praise and hail her on the regular, but I have been seeing other deities, and there's a few that I like more than her. (Just don't ever tell her I said that) Glycon Glycon was probably one of the first parody deities. The Greek mystic, Alexander of Abonoteichus, created the cult of Glycon, and was a grifter, thug, and thief. The original Glycon was nothing more than a hand puppet that Alexander used to con people with. In 1993, one of my all time favorite writers, Alan Moore, declared himself a follower of Glycon, and stated that he loved the "absurdity of worshiping a probable fraud." In some of Alan's work, he shows that Glycon has the power to turn old, bearded writers into little girls. Those who know me, may find this to be a big clue. (wink wink). Baby Jesus' Pet Cow If you've never read anything by Augusten Burroughs, I highly recommend his book Magical Thinking. In the book, he describes his bizarre form of prayer, where he simply imagines himself petting Baby Jesus' pet cow. The absurdity of it had me immediately hooked, and I have actually caught myself mentally petting Baby Jesus' pet cow from time to time. I also like that it's not Jesus' pet cow, that it's BABY Jesus' pet cow. Something about a magic baby who's pet cow can grant favors if you pet it makes far more sense to me that worshiping some grown man who could perform a few simple tricks. Hanuman Hanuman is one of the few "valid" deities I follow. He's a Hindu God, a bad ass monkey, a symbol of strength and determination, and is something like the patron saint of bachelors. Hanuman helped Lord Rama on his quest against evil forces, his tale gives insight into how to overcome life's obstacles, and whenever I need to feel like a boss, I like to picture myself as this awesome monkey god.

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President Obama also is a fan, and carries a small Hanuman statue with him all the time. No Joke The Man From Another Place The Man From Another Place, or TMFAP for short, is an arm. He is a midget, who is really a spirit, who speaks backwards and dances in a funny way. TMFAP isn't technically a "deity," however, one could argue that mythology based on reruns of Twin Peaks is just as valid as mythology based on the gossip of goat farmers in ancient Palestine. Invisible Pink Unicorn Invisible Pink Unicorn is the goddess of a parody religion used to satirize theistic beliefs, taking the form of a unicorn that is paradoxically both invisible and pink. I like her because, well, unicorns are kick ass, and I like the color pink. Those are what I like to refer to as my "Main Six." There are other deities I get a kick out of, such as Bob Dobbs, Rand Hosana, The Flying Spaghetti Monster, and Herman Cain. What's that? Don't think Herman Cain is a deity? Well, think again.

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Sheltered White American Male Privilege Syndrome
Sheltered White Anglo Male Privilege Syndrome, also known as SWAMPS, is a collection of physical and emotional symptoms related to being born a white male, and middle class in 21st century America. Symptoms Feelings of entitlement. Self Identification with niche entertainment genres. Perception that controlled substances are means of entertainment and status. Frequently voices strong opinions on subjects for which the patient is not educated. Diagnosis There is no lab test to verify the diagnosis of SWAMPS. Doctors are able to make a diagnosis of SWAMPS after a lengthy assessment interview followed by two weeks of patient journaling both daily diet and activities. The doctor is then able to assess the extent to which symptoms affect all aspects of a patient's life. In order to make a an accurate diagnosis of swamps, symptoms must be pervasive across at least two life domains (e.g. Work, school, friendships, marriage, etc...), and must have been present for at least 6 months. This is to ensure that the patient is not just experiencing a short period of maladjustment following a major life change such as a large raise at work, marrying up in socioeconomic status, or being mildly affected by Fox News. Treatment There is no known cure for SWAMPS; however, it can be managed in a number of ways under the care of a physician. Treatments include, but are not limited to: ● Immersion into lower socioeconomic culture ● Controlled dispersion of psychedelic drugs in order to broaden the perspective of the patient ● Patient strict adherence to a diet free of high fructose corn syrup ● Reichian Therapy (also known as Orgonomic Therapy) Anecdotal Evidence

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The ongoing work Confessions of a Lunatic Pope, shows many examples of a young man's journey to cure himself of SWAMPS. The patient, Timothy Bowen, although born in a lower-middle class family, showed many of the symptoms of an advanced case of SWAMPS in his teenage years, and somewhat less in his early 20's.

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I Do Not Like Sports
I have never been a fan of any sport. I have never enjoyed watching any sports game. I personally think sports are a big waste of time, and that professional sports are a gross waste of resources. I think that schools that fund sport programs over things like music and science are damaging our children's futures. The sport I can't stand the most is racing. I think that peak oil is very real, and going to be a large factor in the imminent collapse of western society, and that wasting what little oil we have left to drive in circles is a gross sign of how self destructive our culture is. I think that professional sports encourage the worst parts of human nature; pride, anger, aggression, and greed. I see this evidenced in the Basketball lockouts, and the pathetic attempt student athletes are making to get paid for playing their insignificant little game. I'm sorry, I just don't buy it. Most of these student athletes get full scholarships already, and if they ever go pro, will be making far more money than people who's jobs actually benefit society, such as teachers and firemen. There are real problems our society faces, such as an exponentially growing homeless population, the reality of climate change, peak oil, and the ever growing wealth divide. And yet, in the face of all of this, Texas builds a stadium that uses as much energy as an entire city, and is a constant drain on taxpayers. Throwing a ball around is something children should do for fun, not something grown adults should be paid millions for.

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The Night Beard Club Took Memphis
GREETINGS HUMANS! It is I, Master Cylinder, the beard that hangs on the chin of a Lunatic Pope. Today I will tell you a story of beards, clubs, Memphis, and a wonderful man with an inner beard. The story begins in Jonesboro, Arkansas, as the newly formed Jonesboro Beard Club decided that Memphis, Tennessee, had been talking smack to them, and it was time to teach the city a lesson. I know, you're asking yourself, "how does a city talk smack to people?" Well, a beard is talking to you now, so continue to suspend disbelief, and let us continue. All members of the Jonesboro Beard Club had mighty beards at the time, except for one member, Dave, who the rest of the club decided had an Inner Beard, despite his clean shaved face. The club made their way to Memphis, which is an hour drive from Jonesboro, and immediately hit Beale Street for Long Island Iced Teas. There was a stand on the street that made these drinks so strong that they were mostly hard alcohol with just a dash of flavoring. This seemed a fitting start of the night. On Beale, many panhandlers tried to harass the club. One even did cartwheels and a dance. He was the only beggar the club deemed worthy, and was the only one to receive any coin. After each club member had imbibed enough, they decided that the Young Avenue Deli had been talking smack, and it needed to be punished. At the deli, the club proceeded to drink more, and Dave with the inner beard proved his swag is without competition by puking on himself, and still getting hit on by a group of females, without cleaning the puke off of himself. Suddenly the club decided it was time to plunder, and made their way to the premier Pirate Themed Bar in Memphis, The Buccaneer Lounge. All were in agreement, but could not find Dave. After much yelling and falling down, the club found Dave in the bathroom, standing still with his head on his head, saying nothing but a long, drawn out "ugghhh." Turns out, he had been standing there for quite some time, and the other patrons had been randomly bringing him water and other offerings, as well as random girls trying to pick up on him, still covered in puke. Eventually the club got Dave out of the Deli, and started making their way to the Buccaneer. After arriving, each member proceeded to

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puke in the parking lot. This was followed by many loud attempts at talking or yelling like a pirate. In the bar, Dave immediately sat down, puked on himself again, and fell asleep. So now, he had two layers of vomit on himself, and was completely asleep and non-responsive. Still, in this state, he had yet another group of girls attempt to flirt with him. It was insane. The rest of the Beard Club had never seen swagger so strong. It was as if his inner beard was talking smack to the rest of the club's outer beards. I won't go into what happened after that. Honestly, because no one remembers exactly what happened.The moral of the story: Even without an outer beard, one can find their own inner beard, and it can be the source of very powerful swagger.

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I'm Not Proud of Anything
Everyday I hear about different "Pride" movements. Gay pride, American pride, school pride, white pride, etc. Most people talk about how they strive to make their parents proud of them. What bothers me about all this pride obsession, is that pride is a deadly sin. Now, I'm not overly religious, even though I'm a Pope. I don't necessarily believe in "sins" or anything like it, yet, I do understand how pride can be really bad. Allow me to illustrate. A few years ago I was bragging to my friend about how I've never had cavities, and that my teeth are super strong. Pretty much immediately after finishing talking about this subject, I went into the bathroom and noticed something strange. I had a cavity. One of my back teeth had an enormous hole on the top of it, and within a few days, I was in excruciating pain. I eventually had to get the tooth pulled. I understand how this could be simply coincidental, but I do also see how it illustrates the age old saying "pride goes before the fall." I also know that I prefer being around people who are humble about their accomplishments rather than a boastful, proud person. What are your thoughts on pride? What are you proud of? Do you see that it might be better to not be proud, but instead, be humble?

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I Want to Download my Consciousness into a Swarm of Nanobots
I am sick of being lied to by science fiction. I was told over and over again that by now we would have flying cars, or cybernetic body parts, or at least virtual reality rooms. Don't get me wrong, I'm pretty impressed by smart phones and the internet, and do feel that we are living in a more technologically advanced society than the era I grew up in, otherwise known as the 80's. I just feel like, being that it's already 2011, we should be much more advanced, or at least that's what all the science fiction I obsessed over as a kid had told me. The thing that I want the most, however, is the ability to download my consciousness into a swarm of nanobots. Not just any nanobots, but self replicating, and self evolving nanobots. That way I can take any form I choose, be it solid or gas or liquid, and essentially be immortal. Really, is that too much to ask?

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I Was a Cult Member
Thee Temple ov Psychick Youth or TOPY was a fellowship founded in 1981 by members of Psychic TV, Coil, Current 93, and a number of other individuals, most notably, Genesis P-Orridge. I was one year old at this time, I think that's amusing now. The ever-evolving network is a loosely federated group of people operating as a unique blend of artistic collective, and practitioners of what is known as "chaos magic." In the early 1990s a "rift" occurred within the network when Genesis P-Orridge of Psychic TV, one of the few founding members still involved at that time, and probably the most famous public face of TOPY, left in a hissy fit, and spread rumors about how he closed down the network. The remaining members of the network chose not to go along with this and carried on with their activities. This happened when I was only 10 years old, which is also amusing, because it was about that age I started believing, for some reason, that I could do "magical things." In 2003 I joined TOPY. I was 23 at the time, and had just starting hearing about "chaos magic." I had been reading tarot cards since I was 14, and had practiced a few rituals with different local pagan groups, but nothing as serious as what I was finding out about TOPY. The way you joined TOPY back then was by self-initiation, which, living in Arkansas, and having little access to anything more hardcore than one or two Wiccan groups, I found amazing. The process was simple. You had to make what is called a "sigil," which is basically a statement of intent, or symbol of whatever it is you want to make happen. You then charged the "sigil" with a ceremony conducted at 23:00 on the 23rd of the month, where you would place 2 types of hair and 3 types of bodily fluid on the "sigil." (The number 23 was a big deal to the group, and myself at the time, not just because I was 23 years old). Then, to finish everything, you would mail the final product (sealed and sanitary of course), into the main Temple address, and they would rub magic beans on it or something to help make your wish come true. After you had sent in 23 "sigils," you would be an official member. I did not end up finishing doing this for 23 straight months. After about the 5th month, I started losing interest, and gaining a better understanding about how everything about "MAGIC" is utter bullshit. It's fun to believe in when you're a kid, or living in a small town, or unhappy with your life, but the simple truth is, if you really want something to happen, and you don't work for it, and it's not very

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probable in the first place, no amount of chanting or blood-letting, or jerking off on a piece of paper with silly symbols drawn on it, will ever make some "miracle" happen. After I left TOPY, it collapsed in on itself completely. Genesis POrridge never completely quit his hissy fit, and was threatening suing anyone using his "intellectual property," such as the sigil making process or the Psychick Cross. (Pictured above, COME AT ME BRO). Genesis now runs a group called "One True Topi Tribe," which I understand is a message board of sorts, and the remaining members who tried to keep TOPY alive all these years now run a group called Autonomous Individuals Network, and I still keep in touch with some of them. They're good people. I don't think I will ever be joining another group like this, or any other cult or church, ever again. I'd much rather be the cult leader, than the cult member any day.

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I Quit My Job With The Democratic Party to go to The Colbert Rally
After I got done being a Union Thug, I got a job offer with The Democratic Party to work on a congressional campaign. I was absolutely spoiled working for unions, so when I got to my new political gig, I felt as if I had been thrown to the sharks. Working for unions is awesome. Everything you need for the job is provided on day one. When my car broke down, I had a rental paid for by the union the next day. I never had to worry about where I was sleeping, and my bosses got me any equipment I asked for quickly. Working for the Democratic party was the opposite. It was a month before we even got phones to make our daily calls with. We got paid way less. I had to hop around between different "supporter housing," and never knew exactly where I'd be sleeping the next day. Gas cards were a struggle to get our hands on. Then, I started finding out things about the candidate I really didn't like. Turns out she had voted against gay marriage in the state house, and had written letters to potential gay supporters that basically alienated then for being gay. This, coupled with the awful work conditions and endless hours, eventually led me to stop caring as much about the job. Around that time, I started taking part in discussions on the website, Reddit.com, talking about how great it would be if Stephen Colbert held a rally similar to Glenn Beck's big rally. Little did I know, Stephen pretty much agreed, and a rally was planned. Pretty much on the day Colbert announced his rally, I told my boss I'd be leaving. I said it was for "personal" reasons, but it was a combination of being upset about working conditions, disliking the candidate, and an intense urge to be at this rally. Mainly just the rally. So, I left my job with the Democratic Party, never looking back, and drove back to Arkansas to pick up my younger brothers, and off we went to Washington DC. The rally itself wasn't nearly as awesome as I had hoped, but I still feel it was worth it, if nothing else, for the time I spent bonding with my younger brothers, and getting to see my friend Dave, (who you might remember from my doomed Phish trip). Also, I did get to see my hero, Stephen Colbert, in person, as well as give Jason Jones a high five. It was pretty intense seeing all the homeless people in DC. I've never witnessed so many people sleeping in front of buildings or on

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sidewalks, and I've been to Anchorage. (Note to readers, the Alaska story will come soon, and believe me, there are a lot of homeless folks sleeping on the sidewalks of Anchorage). I still totally love Stephen Colbert. I support his Super Pak, and try to catch his show every episode. Here's an old pic of me showing my Colbert love, with some Colbert Ice Cream and his book: I will gladly quit another job for Colbert.

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The West Memphis 3 ARE FREE!!!
I got up early this morning and headed to the courthouse. It was insane. A literal media circus. Cameras and reporters everywhere. The first few hours were a little confusing. Lots of people wandering around, trying to get inside. Apparently people camped out last night, and once the room was full, no one else was let in. I literally saw people with press credentials get turned away. I ran into a lot of old friends that I haven't seen in years, who were also there to show support. Everyone was in a really good mood. It was easy to spot supporters, for they all had a huge grin the whole time. Overall, there was a definite feeling of jubilation. After a while, everyone started running to one side of the building, and so I followed suit. An enormous crowd formed at the exit, and we all waited with serious anticipation to hear any update. A friend of mine pointed out one old hillbilly looking guy, and was like "he's here to hurt them." I slowly moved toward the guy, and stood next to him, until a cop tapped me on the shoulder and whispered that I needed to step away. Turns out my friend had a good eye, because the cops were watching him too. Thankfully nothing happened with the crazy hillbilly guy. I was worried some religious nut would try to start something. Then, out of nowhere there is massive applause. Eddie Vedder and Natalie Maines, famous for their roles in Pearl Jam and The Dixie Chicks respectively, walked out of the courthouse to cheers of "FREEDOM!" (Both of the celebrities are supporters and have been raising funds for their defense). Immediately after, all three of the WM3 walked out and got into vans with the two celebrities. The cheering was insane. The loudest chanting I've ever heard of "FREEDOM FREEDOM FREEDOM!" rang from the excited crowd. Everyone thought only 2 of them were going to be released, and when we all saw that all 3 were out, it was an intense feeling of joy. There were many people crying, cheering, hugging, and generally a wave of extreme emotions washed over everyone there. I feel amazing now. I can't believe they're free! I'm not happy with the game the justice system played to get them out, and I won't even get into that now, because I don't want anything to mess with this good feeling. I've literally been waiting for this day for over half of my life

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I Was an Elementary School Bully
When I was younger, my family moved around a lot. We're not gypsies or anything like that, we just moved frequently. The school I went to in Kindergarten was a different school from where I went in first grade, was different than where I went in 6th grade, was different than where I went in high school, and so on. Because of this, I've adapted well to making new friends quickly, and changing myself quickly. I was an awkward little dude when I was young. I was always the tallest kid in class. I got glasses at a really young age. I was always really chubby as a kid. And, to top it all off, I was also usually one of the smartest kids in my class. (Occasionally smarter than my teachers, or so I thought). As I'm sure you can guess, this all added up to not a lot of popularity for 5th grade Tim. Add all that to the fact that my teacher in 5th grade decided at the beginning of the school year that I was a troublemaker, and singled me out frequently, and you have the perfect formula for an elementary school bully, which is what I became. My career as a bully was short lived. It pretty much only lasted all of 5th grade, and by the time 6th grade was about to start, my family had moved to a new town, and I was able to quickly snap out of it, and become something else. During my time as a bully, I smacked around classmates at recess, got into fights, harassed one girl so much that her mom and my mom ended up getting into a fight at parent teacher conference day, and was sent to the principal so frequently that we were on a first name basis. Looking back at this time now, as a 30 year old man, who's about to become an uncle, I feel bad for the kids that I bullied. I would hate to find out my new nephew was ever bullied at school, or even worse, became a bully himself. Yet, I understand the impulse. Cruelty is a big part of the American psyche, and our public school system breeds negativity. Add that to the crushing poverty most kids face, and the fact that so many parents are neglectful or abusive, and it's shocking that our schools aren't even more violent than they already are.

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I Voted For Obama
Yes, my faithful reader, I admit it. I voted for Barack Obama. At the time, it seemed like the best choice. I was dazzled by his promises to shut down Gitmo, to repeal the Patriot Act, and mainly, to end the wars. Also, I'm a huge comic book nerd, and so is he. I still like him personally, and think he's a smart man, and am pleased as punch to have a comic book nerd in the white house. I am not happy with what he's done as president at all, however. I'm not happy that Gitmo is still there, and that civilian trials have been suspended for the detainees. I'm not happy that he signed the Patriot Act extension. I'm not happy about the fact that war is still being waged in the middle east, in fact, now in many more countries. (Syria will be next I'm certain). I'm really not happy about how the department of justice has handled the Wikileaks investigations, or the treatment of Bradley Manning. I'm somewhat furious at his silence over the war crimes being committed against Gaza Strip since he took office. I will say he has done a few things that I like. (I'm not a complete hater). I like that he lifted the ban on stem cell research. I like that he got 'don't ask, don't tell' repealed. I really like that he still refuses to wear a tie. I have changed alot since 2008 in my political beliefs. I've shifted from a bleeding heart liberal to a full on Ron Paul libertarian. This happened mainly because I have looked into what the good Dr. Paul has to say about the criminal, offshore banking cartel The Federal Reserve. I also now understand who has the real power, and that Obama could never keep those election promises, even if he really wanted to, because the President of the United States has not had any real power since 1913, when the Fed Bankers hijacked this country. This understanding allows me to forgive Obama, and keep on loving the man for being a geek who doesn't wear a tie, and for being the president who opened for Lady Gaga at a gay rights rally.

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I Have A Lady Gaga Tattoo
There's this blog I get a huge kick out of called Vigilant Citizen. It's this crazy blog where this insane Christian guy picks apart pop culture for it's 'satanic' and 'Illuminati' symbolism. According to the site, and it's article; Lady Gaga, The Illuminati Puppet, her logo "is pretty revealing and particularly fitting. Its a headless female body with a bolt of lightning going through her and exiting her genitalia. There is once again a focus on the lack of conscious thought by the singer. The body looks like the weird headless mannequins you find at clothing stores. The bolt of lightning implies that her thoughtless body has been “charged” with a force that gives it life." My thoughts are, the Illuminati might just be the good guys. I'm not a Christian, or very religious person at all, and don't really see a big problem with what I've read about the Illuminati, but that, as they say, is a story for another time. As for Lady Gaga herself, I think she's the bee's knees. I first got into her music when a friend online suggested I check out her first album, The Fame, in it's entirety, after hearing only the hit singles. If you haven't done this yourself, please do, because it's an amazing album. I got the tattoo while waiting for it's follow up album, The Fame Monster, to be released, and right before I went to see her perform live for the first time. Let's just say, the second album is even better than the first, she's amazing live, and no matter how much my friend Matt wants me to, I absolutely do not regret having the tattoo. Notice my funny glasses I had at the time. I got those in Alaska for a dollar. They were very close to my actual prescription. Sadly, they broke, and I now have a far less funny pair of glasses, that are exactly my prescription.

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I Am A Member Of A Terrorist Organization (Kind Of...)
The Rainbow Family of Living Light (commonly shortened to the Rainbow Family) is a loosely affiliated group of individuals committed to principles of nonviolence and egalitarianism. They put on events known as Rainbow Gatherings. They are also rumored to be a terrorist organization. This rumor is widely spread among members, and even some police officers buy into the hype. While it is true that individuals who attend these gatherings have included people on the Terrorist Watch List, it is not true that the Rainbow Family itself is listed as a Terrorist Organization. Mainly, this is because it has no central leadership, and no organization that really exists. (See-loosely affiliated group of individuals). I went to my first Rainbow Gathering the summer before 9/11. It was in Idaho, and was amazing and beautiful. For those of you wondering what happens at these gatherings, there is no simple answer. Imagine millions of people from all walks of life, living out of tents, not allowed to use money, and guaranteeing that no one goes hungry, and you're somewhat close to the idea. There's lots of barter, lots of workshops, lots of mingling, and yes, lots of sex and drugs. The Rainbow Family refer to the world outside the gatherings as Babylon, and have many unique sayings, such as "Six Up!" (A commonly heard phrase, that basically means "watch out cops are coming!") Another thing that happens is people are given "Rainbow Names." Most people you'll meet will only give you their rainbow name. They refer to your birth name as your "slave name." My rainbow name is olboyfloats, I guess because I keep my head in the clouds. Since my first gathering, I've attended two others. One in 2006 here in Arkansas, and one in 2009 in New Mexico. Each gathering is different, just as each human you meet is unique in some way. I've had really wonderful, life affirming times at gatherings, and horrid, bad trip nightmares at gatherings, and honestly, the same could be said about anywhere I've been. The big event of the National Gathering, that happens each year, is to gather in a circle at high noon on July 4th, and pray for peace. This has been going on for decades, and I doubt it will stop anytime soon. While I love my Rainbow Family, and do plan on attending another gathering some day, I have found that a lot of what goes on doesn't

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vibe well with me. Lots of what you find at a gathering is really depressing. Most of the people there are running from something, or broken, or just completely lost. And yes, there is a nice feeling of community, and everyone tries to help each other out, but it still is a human construct, and flawed. There's lots of cliques, and if you don't speak all the lingo, or don't love all the big jam bands, you could easily find yourself very ostracized. It's also very easy to feel alone and lost at a gathering. It's a big place, with lots of people, and they don't all speak English, and they're not all nice. I highly suggest, if you plan on seeking a gathering, to prepare yourself fully. Make sure you have a good tent, warm and dry clothes, lots of clean socks, toilet paper, trade items, and if you're not going with friends, I suggest you find a welcoming kitchen and camp near it. Anyone interested in finding a gathering (by the way, they happen all over the globe, not just in America), all you need to do is go to Welcomehome.org and check the calendar. So yeah, I'm not really in a terrorist organization, I just thought it was a clever title, and a fun way to introduce the Rainbow Family.

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I Am A Brony
What is a "Brony" you ask? According to Urban Dictionary, a brony is "The male, older fans of my little pony: friendship is magic." I fit that description pretty well. I never cared much for the original cartoon, nor do I care about the toys or anything else involved, but the new show, Friendship is Magic, is pretty awesome. I first found out about it by seeing the constant posts about it on Reddit and other such sites, and thought it was either a fad or trolling. After a year of constant exposure, I realized that perhaps it wasn't just a fad, and that maybe I should just watch an episode and give it a chance. I have to admit, the pilot kind of sucks. I was not hooked right away, but wasn't un-entertained. So, I watched a couple more episodes. Suddenly, I found myself identifying with Pinkie Pie, the partyloving pony, who I suspect might be a Discordian. I was pleased to find the entire first season is available on youtube, and that there are many thriving online communities filled with other bronies. Also, the show constantly makes references to all the things in pop culture that I love, such as David Bowie, The X-Men, and The Powerpuff Girls. Also, Pinkie Pie, much like my favorite comic book character, Ambush Bug, has the power to break the fourth wall. I've shared the show with a few friends, mainly to confused, blank stares (HAIL ERIS). The episode that really hooked me, was Episode 25: Party Of One, in which Pinkie Pie goes somewhat insane. Then, one day, luck stroke, and I went on the Jerry Springer Show. It’s not easy being a brony. LOL

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In case you missed Glenn Beck today...
by T Edward Bowen on Friday, March 25, 2011 at 5:24pm · here's a brief summary of his show on the Federal Reserve: *Glenn gives the bare cliff notes story of the Fed *Glenn constantly hypes the book Creature from Jekyll Island *Glenn's guest is the author of said book *Glenn takes offense to his guest suggesting the Fed bankers own media outlets *Glenn constantly interrupts himself to mock conspiracy theories *Glenn declares himself King of Conspiracy Theorists *Glenn offers the solutions "BUY GOLD" and switch to a gold standard *Glenn uses silly voices when talking about Rothschilds. *Glenn's live audience struggles with obviously scripted questions That's basically it. Move on. Keep consuming and hating.

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Elvis looked confusedly at Roy Orbison.
"So you think this is gonna help me lose weight?" "Yes," Roy replied, "trust me, this isn't my first time." Roy then reached into his bag and pulled out a roll of cling film. "Take off all of your clothes and relax." Elvis felt a little awkward at first, being naked in front of another man like this, but Roy did know what he was doing, and promptly started rolling Elvis in the cling film. "I'm going to keep your arms free, so you can roll me up next," breathed Roy into Elvis' ear as he finished covering his body in the translucent film. "But, you don't need to lose any weight, Roy. You're a good looking man," replied Elvis. "I don't do this to lose weight," exclaimed Roy, "soon you will understand." equivalent over negligence deviate hotcha grave kVAr fizzling sorry harmless status speak thin against goddamnit hadaway voetsek against goddamnit hadaway voetsek forth eleuin toucha eleuin

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I have done many "drugs."
Legal ones, illegal ones, research chemicals, stuff you haven't heard of. While, I don't recommend anyone doing this, because I'm now, in my older years, finding out what "consequences" are in a way. I overdosed on a dissociative research chemical six years ago, and for a long time was convinced that I had brain damage. I was constantly worried about "games" being played. I got better eventually. Kind of. I'm not trying to figure out what the cryptoquips in the newspaper and the license plates I randomly saw were "really trying to tell me" anymore. I don't randomly corner and interrogate my friends about "games" anymore. But I still kinda worry about it. It's just not constant, unending, frightening anymore. And as I calm myself, and live my life more with a light heart, I have noticed it's happening less and less often

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butthole

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Eris Has Been Showing Me THE FUTURE
A few days ago, Eris directed me to a news story. In the story, it is stated that "The [South Korean] Defense Ministry is apparently minded to use songs and music videos by manufactured girl bands such as Girls' Generation, WonderGirls, After School, Kara and 4minute in psychological warfare against North Korea." Ladies and Gentlemen, let me now share the Divine Prophetic Wisdom of Eris Discordia, Our Goddess and Cool Chick, that she shared with me.\ FIRST: The South Koreans WILL use the girl bands as weapons,and WILL win. SECOND: They WILL NOT stop at North Korea, but in fact,conquer ALL OF ASIA. THIRD:Eventually K-Pop Girl Bands will take over the rest of the world. THESE THREE TRUTHS ARE NOW HOLY SCRIPTURE. LET IT BE WRITTEN AND SHARED ON MOUNTAINTOPS!

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Eris Asked Me To Name A New Saint
Justin Drew Bieber, pop star and wet dream inducer for many middle aged women, has been speaking out a lot lately about what he sees wrong with the world. First, he called America EVIL for making it's citizens pay for health care. And now,he's refusing to play politics with Israel.I know it sounds ridiculous, but the kid has serious talent, and a mind of his own, and isn't afraid to speak out. Lots of people so easily forget how the Beatles were no different than your average boy band back in the day. "I Wanna Hold Your Hand" ... "She Loves Me Yeah Yeah Yeah" ...easily could have been written by the Backstreet Boys or N'Sync. The only reason the Beatles went from a fan-base of 12 year old screaming girls to hippies and intellectuals, was because they too had serious talent, minds of their own, and weren't afraid to speak out. I see a lot of John Lennon in JustinBieber.So, when Eris asked me to name a new saint,it was an easy choice for me. So, without further adieu, I am pleased to grant Justin Drew Bieber Sainthood in the Erisian Church.

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Eris Schools Me In Politics
Depressed, and unfairly attacking President Obama on my Facebook wall, like I frequently do, Eris came to me in the form of an Enbrel commercial. "Hello Pope Olboyfloats, I'm Phil Mickelson, I understand you have a problem with your tribal leader." "Yes, I do. I don't like the wars. I'm angry that Bush and Cheney are free to walk the streets after committing their war crimes while the young private who exposed the war crimes is behind bars. I'm upset that Guantanamo Bay is still open." "Did you not read the damned Principia Discordia? I had a very similar conversation with one of the other famous Popes." "True, that and you are, pretty much,the reason humanity started fighting wars in the first place,huh?" "I am, and don't you ever forget it." "Well, I still think I'm voting for RON PAUL this time around." "No comment." After the Enbrel commercial ended, and Eris and Phil Mickelson were no longer one, my anger towards Obama had faded, my hopes that Eris would endorse Ron Paul were squashed, and my belly felt all squishy

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The King of The Cats
The King of The Cats lives upstairs he keeps a circle of wicker baskets in his living room each basket has a decapitated head inside it of all the cats who stood against him The King of The Cats plays smooth jazz he's a teetotaler and a mystic he has a collection of antique weapons every room has polished hard wood floor The King of The Cats is a trickster a highway child born again drifter his throne is soft as cotton turns out he played a joke on me the cat heads were all plush

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Eris Tells Me About Her Family
The most common understanding is that Eris is the daughter of Zeus and Hera. Others claim she is the offspring of Erebos and Nyx, while a few claim she has but one parent, Nyx. I asked Eris who her real parents were, and as it turns out, none of these are true. It turns out that she is much older than the Gods of Greece, and even older than the Elder Gods of Lovecraft. As the creator of conflict and strife, Eris was there at the Big Bang, hell, she caused it. The only "parents" she claims to have been born of are what she calls "dirty thoughts of humans and other sentient playthings." So, the next question I had for Eris was about her offspring. It's listed that her "official" children are PONOS,LETHE,LIMOS,THE ALGEA,THE HYSMINAI,THE MAKHAI, THE PHONOI,THE ANDROKTASIAI,THE NEIKEA,THE PSEUDOLOGOI,THE AMPHILOGIAI,DYSNOMIA, ATE, and HORKOS. Turns out, she doesn't claim any of them.Horkos and Ate still live with her, but she constantly yells at them that they are "adopted scum," and that their real parents are "those god-damned Kardashians." I then asked if she still follows her brother Ares into war, to which she replied "Brother? I barely fucking know the guy!" At this point I realized that perhaps this was not a good day to be questioning her about family. The Original Snub must still be bothering her.

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Better Know An Offspring: Grandchildren Edition
The only one of Eris' children to have any offspring of their own is Lethe. Her children are THE KHARITES , and DIONYSOS . Dionysos is the great Olympian god of wine, vegetation, pleasure and festivity. The Kharites are the Goddesses of grace, beauty, adornment, mirth, festivity, dance and song. A number of "younger Kharites" presided over the other pleasures of life, including play, amusement, banqueting, floral decoration, happiness, rest and relaxation. Dionysos has a horde of children, both mortal and divine, and is a bit of a party monster. The Kharites, or Charities, are lovely, and very pleasant to be around. They are without offspring. Most of humanity spends a lot of their time trying to spend time with any of these amazing spirits, especially Dionysos. One might wonder, how could these wonderful, happy, pleasant, and positive spirits be related to Eris and the rest of her offspring; however, when you understand the true nature of Chaos, and the world we live in, it's easy to see how the spirits of Murder and Floral Decoration to be related. Just imagine Thanksgiving Dinner at Grandma Eris' house. No really. I want you to imagine it.

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Better Know An Offspring: Part Two - HORKOS
Horkos, the personification of an oath, is the son of Eris, and the avenger of perjury.He is a putative companion of the goddess Dike . Eris birthed him, with the help of the Erinyes (Furies), to be a plague on those who take false oath. During the medieval ages Horkos was identified as a demon, depicted with the head of a pig, who would ravage corpses to quench his insatiable appetite. Sacrifices in the form of pigs were offered to Horkos to keep him at bay, which likely led to the belief that he was the king of the Orcs. Horkos still lives with his mother, Eris, and has borne no children. He likes to consider himself an Eternal Bachelor. (Of course, who would want to mate with a pig-faced demon?) I sat down with Horkos recently, and here's how our conversation went: “So, are you really the king of the Orcs?” “Nope. That's a bad rumor. During the short time that Orcs existed on this plane, I did hang out with them a lot. No one parties like an Orc.” “What did you do to be punished with forced companionship with the Goddess Dike?” “Oddly enough, I broke an oath. I don't like to talk about it.” “Why do you still live with your mom?” “Not many people want to take me in. I sleep on Dike's couch sometimes, and occasionally still run with the Furies, but Mom and ATE need me. I'm the only one who cleans around here.” At this point in our conversation, ATE began walking on our heads and giggling menacingly, effectively ending our interview, and bringing back my headache. I left their abode looking forward to “Better Knowing” the rest of Eris' children. Thankfully none of the rest of them live with her.

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Better Know An Offspring: Part Six - LETHE
LETHE is the Goddess of forgetfulness and oblivion. She lives in the underworld river that is named after her, LETHE. She has two beautiful daughters, THE KHARITES , and DIONYSOS , both fathered by her grandfather Zeus. She has a very important duty, in that she keeps the river flowing, and keeps new souls from remembering past lives. I, obviously, have no memory at all of visiting with LETHE. Thankfully, I brought a note pad, and can transcribe what I wrote down during our conversation. Warning, it makes very little sense. ● This river is fucking cold man. Wow. But it feels good. ● Man, it's pretty crazy that this chick boned her grandfather, twice. ● Whoah, was that Elvis and Tupac? ● LETHE=BEST WEED DEALER EVER. Seriously, this shit is insane. I'm more baked than I've ever been in my life. Need to remember to ask what she called this stuff ● SO MUCH EVIDENCE OF CONSPIRACY, ALEX JONES IS SO MUCH MORE RIGHT ON THAN I EVER THOUGHT POSSIBLE ● I absolutely have to name my toes after this. It's the only way Looking back, I can't honestly say if any of the notes were even written by me. It looks like my handwriting. I kind of wish I had a camcorder. Maybe I did but I forgot it. Maybe I did lots of things and forgot about it. It is normal for me!

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Better Know An Offspring: Part Four - The Algea
The Algea are spirits of pain and suffering (of both body and mind), grief, sorrow and distress. They are the bringers of weeping and tears, and oddly enough, are really great hosts. The three sisters are named ALGOS, AKHOS & LUPA. They're all very pretty, polite, and frail. Like most of Eris' offspring, The Algea are without children, or spouse, and are generally shunned universally by men and Gods alike. My visit with the Algea was brief, pleasant, and depressing. I could tell why the Ancient Greeks did not welcome a visit from these sisters. They just constantly go on and on about death and torture and Guantanamo Bay and genocide and pre teen suicide and crib death and miscarriages and forgotten old people in nursing homes and the end of Ol' Yeller and dolphin safe tuna and eventually you just want to either smack them to shut them up, or start crying with them. I'm not even going to bother trying to transcribe any of our conversation. It wouldn't make any sense, and would go on and on endlessly on sadder and sadder tangents, effectively saying nothing in the end. I found that the best way to get away from The Algea was to laugh a whole lot, tell a dead baby joke, and let myself out. I did get LUPA's email. I've always had a thing for hot Latinos.

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Better Know an Offspring: Part Eight – AMPHILOGIAE and PSEUDOLOGOI
THE AMPHILOGIAI are the Goddesses of disputes, debate and contention. THE PSEUDOLOGOI are the Gods of lies and falsehoods. These are the little demons that pollute all politics. They are barely the size of a pea, and live in the capitals of every country, following around politicians, making them lie, and encouraging pointless argument. Recently they found a new home in 24 hour cable news. Much like with PHONOI, MACHAE and ANDROCTASIAE, I decided it would be in my best interests to not bother trying to have a conversation with AMPHILOGIAE and PSEUDOLOGOI. Turn on Fox News any day to hear them. (Or, if you're reading this in the distant future, look up Glenn Beck's Greatest Hits on whatever replaced Google in your weird nano-future). This concluded my series on Better Knowing The Offspring of Our Goddess Eris Discordia. THIS TRUTH IS NOW HOLY SCRIPTURE!. LET IT BE WRITTEN AND SHARED ON MOUNTAINTOPS!!! HAIL ERIS! HAIL DISCORD! HAIL BOB! HAIL GLYCON! HAIL Dysnomia ! HAIL HAIL WHAT CAN I SAIL!!??

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Better Know An Offspring: Part Three- LIMOS AND PONOS
PONOS is the spirit of hard labour and toil.LIMOS is the spirit of of hunger and starvation. LIMOS made her home in a freezing and gloomy wasteland at the farthest edge of Scythia , where the soil is barren and nothing grows. Her hair was coarse, her face sallow, her eyes sunken; her lips crusted and white; her throat scaly with scurf. Her parchment skin revealed the bowels within; beneath her hollow loins jutted her withered hips; her sagging breasts seemed hardly fastened to her ribs; her stomach only a void; her joints wasted and huge, her knees like balls, her ankles grossly swollen. In other words, she's a hottie. PONOS is currently staying with his sister in the gloomy wasteland, toiling away at making the land uninhabitable. PONOS is a large man, full of muscles and bulk. Neither of the two have borne any children, and are both shunned and avoided by both Gods and man. I made my way to their home recently to have a chat with the two about their mom, and other siblings. Sadly, neither of them wanted to talk about much of anything. LIMOS kept wailing about how hungry she was, and PONOS kept yelling about how he was the only one who did any work around the house. I decided it would be best to just not interview them, considering what horrible hosts they were. (Well, at least neither of them tried walking on my head).

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Better Know An Offspring: Special Edition – NEIKEA
I know I stated in my last “Better Know” that it would be the final one. I lied. Get over it. THE NEIKEA are spirits of quarrels, feuds, and grievances. They one group out of a host of malevolent spirits born of Eris. THE NEIKEA are the dark side of THE AMPHILOGIAI. They are also pea sized little demons, and spend most of their time on message boards, and among married couples. They are the Gods of Internet Trolls. This is what they do for fun: baconweave It's not just bacon; it's libertarian bacon. NPR Tim Bowen more like Anarcho Capitalist bacon Robert Bowen It's freedom bacon you commie pinko socialist wacko. Or perhaps this bacon weave is some kind of devious plot. Can't a bacon weave just be bacon? Tim Bowen you're the pinko socialist. i bet you want everyone to have a share of the bacon weave Robert Bowen The free market needs to decide the portions of the bacon weave Comrade Tim. Tim Bowen What if John Galt wants the whole weave to himself? What if he feels that, as creator of the bacon weave, he should be entitled to the whole thing? Robert Bowen The bacon weave might have came from one man but it now belongs to the world, mostly America. John Galt can eat all the dicks. No Objectivist could have come up with a bacon weave. Tim Bowen Gee Bob, good job getting all Agenda 21 and denying people private property rights. Globalist. Robert Bowen No, the bacon weave is to great a gift to humanity to simply hoard it to ourselves. If other country's hate our freedom imagine how much they will hate our bacon weave! Tim Bowen ‎*Starts Alex Jones Impression* Globalist!! What you call "hoarding resources" used to be called "private property rights." And you hide behind your Globalist agenda with your red herring argument about people "hating us for our freedom." Robert Bowen ‎*Starts Glen Beck Impression* You know who wants too keep the bacon weave to themselves folks, well, let me tell you. It's Islamicists. That's who. They want you to have to get your bacon

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weave from your local temple, in accordance with SHIAH LAW!!! Tim Bowen aw shit....that bacon is not halal

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Robots with fucking lasers, man
robot hookers infect my dreams life like fake skin easily programmable pillow talk extra holes humans don’t have hair styles and colors changing with the press of a button robot orgies fuck bots fucking fuck bots extra attachments and upgrades all perversions and fetishes played out without guilt self cleaning genitals prevent the spread of disease

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preemptive war
i grew something like a backbone today i pulled my own heart out didn’t see that coming did you? I set fire to my wishes and my great pain two birds with one flame? but the fire is spreading will i rise from the ashes anew? some brilliant, radiant phoenix? or will I be pulled from the fire covered in scars and rotting flesh? the sad thing is I’ll never know the sad thing is I could have shut up the sad thing is I did this to myself at least this feels new I’ve never done anything quite like this I’m starting to understand preemptive war and jihad on the dance floor someone will call or text me someone will want my company any minute now someone will save me from myself please someone want me please save me from me I call upon my connections I call upon the elements I call upon the corners I call upon my empty heart

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ALIENS ARE COMING!!
I touched your thorns. I touched your nipple I crave how dangerous you are I watch your body movements. I trace your face with my fingers your mouth is open this is so familiar you are so small I am a conduit! I AM THE STARS! I’ve learned all my life lessons now and I don’t care I just want your body next to mine I crave your face I want you I want you I want you I want you I want you I want you I want you I don’t just need you I WANT YOU

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Walking Alone
Sung to the tune of whatever song is currently stuck in your head. We were walking down the street with "Bob" and he said "Ooogy Boogy Beep Ba Bop." We came across a homeless man "Bob" said "Peeky Peeky Boo La Bah!" Children were rioting in the streets we sang "Hooky Dooky Mow Pow La La La!" We saw the buildings crumbling down We saw them burning down the town We saw the weeping widows frown We heard the sound and it was brown and we saw "Bob" and "Bob" said... "Speepy Queepy Loddy Toddy La La La Herpty Smurpty Lurpty Ferpty Would you like to see the menu? I'm sure there's something I can get you!" We went walking through the ruins of Earth with "Bob" and he said "Will no one help the widow's son?" We came across a wealthy man and "Bob" said "I know exactly what you want me to say!" Lovers were writhing in Ecstasy we sang "This is the reason we're alive!" and "Bob" said "Ooogy Boogy Beep Ba Bop!"

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Ron Paul Feeds Freedom to Pinkie Pie in Lumpy Space
Sung to the tune of "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida" Ron Paul feeds freedom to Pinkie Pie Don't you know that it tastes good? Ron Paul and Pinkie in Lumpy Space Did you know that freedom is food? Oh won't you come with me? Into Lumpy Space? Ron Paul puts the freedom Into Pinkie's face! Please understand! Freedom is a good food for Pinkie It is better than cupcakes! If they were not here in Lumpy Space Don't you know there'd be Earthquakes! Ron Paul will feed Pinkie Here in Lumpy Space! Freedom tastes like ice cream and makes a happy face! Please understand!

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Oh My Glob!
Sung to the tune of "Amazing Grace" Oh Glob! My Glob! How sweet my Glob! That comes from Lumpy Space! The Land of Ooo is watched by you! And the Lich is in his place! The Nightosphere, The Flame Kingdom, The Mountains of Ice, All of Ooo was made by you, And we think that was nice! Oh Glob! You are mathematical! Calculus to the Max! You shine like a million Rainicorns, and words that rhyme with Max!

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Why I Mock Religion: In Defense of Parody
People ask me a lot if I "really believe in Eris." It depends on the person asking and the situation which bullshit answer I'm going to give them. For example, if it's someone who's intelligence I respect, I go with some crap about quantum physics and entropy, and if it's someone who I find gullible, I go for the prophet angle, and proclaim loudly that not only do I believe in her, but that she speaks to me regularly. I rarely, if ever say the truth, which is a flat "no." I do this, because this act, in itself, is a mockery of how I see religious leaders act. From my understanding, the most successful religious leaders are good con men. Joseph Smith was a con man before he wrote the Book of Mormon. L. Ron Hubbard was a science fiction writer, which honestly, is a form of a con man, since writing fiction is essentially telling believable and entertaining lies. (That is not to say that Hubbard's work was ever believable or entertaining.) The question I hope you're asking at this point is, "what makes con men good religious leaders?" The answer is simple. It's because when you ask a question that can not be answered, the only people who will give an answer, are liars. An example would be, "what happens when we die?" Well, if you're reading this, that means you're alive, and if you're going to be honest, the only real answer you can ever say, is "I don't know, I haven't died yet." The fact that almost every religion has an answer to the afterlife question, should be a telling sign that they are all bullshit. The fact that just about every religion has a very different and unique answer, while being a true testament to human imagination, should also be enough to turn any logical, thinking person away from religion forever. It's like deciding you want to write a book about sex, and interviewing only virgins. It is ridiculous, and most religious beliefs are just as ridiculous. So, I find, as someone who loves to perform, that parody religion is a wonderful tool to not only point out the ridiculous nature of religion, but to also pay tribute to the only appealing aspect of religion to me, the wonderful imagination involved. I won't name any names, but I do know a few people who have fathers that are religious leaders in Jonesboro. Most of them have told me that at some point growing up, their father had confessed to

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them that they don't even believe in god, and that they only keep at it because it's an easy job. Which it is. Imagine if you only had to work one day a week. Sure, you're working on holidays, but only for an hour or two at a time. And to top it all off, you don't have to pay taxes. So yes, I guess you could say I do believe in Eris, and that she does, in fact, speak to me regularly. And if you believe that, I have a few books I'd like to sell you.

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HAIL ERIS PRAISE “BOB” BAN THE FUCKING BOMB RON PAUL 2012!!!
Battle cries raise eyebrows pussycat Pulchritudinous Potentate I suspire the osculation bequeathed upon tender labium this simpering, leggiadrous potentate purloined my partiality drown my dysphoria gone to the bumwhush revivified rambunctiousness left with longing to embrace. to encircle. to entwine. to envelop I obsecrate. I obtest. Oh, my Pulchritudinous Potentate, concede to my charms you did nothing wrong you never asked me to fall for you you didn't hurt me my own ego hurt me my own self-destructive urges hurt me you just were an awesome person and all I really want is to be near you and to see you smile I don't want to not be in contact anymore I feel like I simply sabotage my own happiness because I was scared because you make me so happy you have no need to apologize I should ask forgiveness forgive me for being so harsh forgive me for pushing you away forgive me for wanting you near me so badly I can understand if you don't want to try again but if you do it would be amazing and I again would be in shock just to touch you and I will try not to push you away again just because you are too good to me

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The Best it ever was
You were the best companion I ever had. You spoiled me to other humans. Everyone I've had any sort of fling with since you has been so much less than you. Not as pretty, or clever, or fun, and no one has ever called me out on my bullshit as sweetly and effectively as you did. I've become somewhat of a worse person without you, in some ways, and have grown up in a lot of other ways. I cherish the memories of our time together like nothing else. I keep wishing I could meet someone that could even come close to as wonderful as I perceived you to be, and I know that's not fair to the people I do meet, because as the reality of you fades and all I'm left with is a mythologized memory of what I loved about you, I find myself blind to any positive qualities these new people in my life might have. There are times when all is see is "Not YOU," and it makes me hate the person I'm with unfairly. Also, part of me feels broken. When we met, I could tell that you worshiped me. When we were at our best, I could tell that I was the single most important thing in your life. And then, towards the end, I could tell that I had fallen off the pedestal you put me on, and when you moved away, I could tell that I had fallen off even more. I was talking about you to someone not too long ago, and explained our relationship simply as "I was the most important thing in world to the most beautiful and wonderful girl I'd ever met, and then one day the fantasy of who she thought I was either broken or faded, and she drifted away, and now I'm left recovering from the wound of going from something wonderful to an afterthought." I don't know if I can ever love someone again, or let someone love me until I have some kind of closure with you, and I'm afraid to even think of how I would go about getting that closure. Even though you're so far away, and we so rarely even communicate anymore, you're in my thoughts daily. I think I finally am ready to be in love again, and really want to be loved, but I just don't know how to let go of the thought of you. I can't stop comparing people to you, and watching them all fall short. And, I think part of me doesn't ever want to let go of you. I think that part of me figures that the reason no one lives up to the memory of you is that you may be my perfect match. My soul mate. And it's that part of me that is constantly devastated more and more each day you're gone. Every day you don't keep in touch anymore. I just now realize our last communication was November of 2010. For some reason it doesn't seem like that long ago. I think it took from the time we agreed to officially "break up," to November 2010

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for me to admit to myself, and to you, that "i hate that the magic we had is gone and you're so far away and have replaced me and that i have nothing and no one." I guess that's a bit over-simplified and dramatic, but it's the same point to all of this that I'm ranting to you now. And since I sent that message I've been in a daze, wounded, and lost. I think I'm just now starting to recover from that. And that's why I'm able to write this without tears, and with so much honesty.

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I still love all of you

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