Recent Journal Entries

  • Plebeia Ovulation-Jones takes on Putin

    by NomadMonad on October 29, 2018

      Ain't no cracka-ass Russian gone touch MY shit growled Plebeia as she filed her rhinestone-studded fake fingernails to a deadly edge. She rolled her enormous seething mass to the edge of the sofa and glared, like a feral heifer, at the massive TV screen from which Vladimir P. beamed forth like an avatar of Orthodoxy.
    Y'all betta shut yo' punk-ass mouth, bitch howled Plebeia.
    All y'all Russian girls so damn UGLY Ima hafta git me some shades so don't hafta SEE dat nasty shit.
    Plebeia then gathered her senatorial notes and prepared to present the accusations at the Russian collusion hearings. (My homegirl be crushin' the illusion of Russian collusion.)

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  • Taipei Person/ Allah Tea

    by Kosho on October 06, 2018

    We cast a long shadow
    Sucking all the cold beneath
    But there's a reason 
    A killer is a lover with a knife in its teeth

    We can settle in the dust and cave
    Raise your hands if you want to be saved
    In the middle is the bottom of me
    A Taipei person drinking Allah Tea, go We live (we live), we die (we live)
    We never wonder why
    It's not (it's not) too late (too late)
    To fight the hands of fate Well you can only scream your heart over and over for so long
    Before you know it, you're gonna lose your fucking mind
    So don't love, don't hate- everybody's dying, baby I feel great
    I'm running out of road but I'm still doing 75 Melodramatic, 
    Ooh, looking like a Ponzi scheme
    You're so sentimental
    All the weight of the worlds you've created are weak I am the voice of a rude generation
    A middle finger for the middle class invasion
    At the bottom is the only real me
    A Taipei person drinking Allah Tea, go We want (we want), we need (we need)
    We punish just to bleed
    We know (we know) this plea (this plea)
    We bite the hand that feeds Well you can only scream your heart over and over for so long
    Before you know it, you're gonna lose your fucking mind
    So don't love, don't hate- everybody's dying, baby I feel great
    I'm running out of road but I'm still doing seventy Force the pass, divorce the castration
    Another panic in a major population
    Run the course, the coarseness of a bastard
    We're in the eyes of a beautiful disaster
    Go We live (we live), we die (we live)
    We never wonder why
    It's up (it's up) to me (to me) 
    To bite the hands that feed
    We want (we want), we need (we need)
    We punish just to bleed
    We scream (we scream) this plea
    Type A personality Well you can only scream your heart over and over for so long
    Before you know it, you're gonna lose your fucking mind
    So don't love, don't hate- everybody's dying, baby I feel great
    I'm running out of road but I'm still doing 75 Still doing 75
    Still doing 75
    Still doing 75

    1 Comment   Read more from Kosho
  • Test 2

    by brian on September 06, 2018


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  • Is this thing on?

    by mike on September 06, 2018


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  • Collective Negative

    by NomadMonad on April 22, 2018

    Just say NO to global government.


    Have a nice day ☺

    No Comments   Read more from NomadMonad
  • sagittis faucibus.

    by DannyArchila on April 19, 2018

    Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Fusce vel mauris nec augue commodo dictum eu consequat felis. Morbi sed efficitur ante, eget posuere ante. Donec ultrices lacinia lorem, in commodo magna auctor nec. Etiam eu viverra orci. Nunc posuere arcu convallis ligula pulvinar, molestie porttitor diam pharetra. Integer nisi ante, aliquam eu purus nec, bibendum rutrum felis. Vestibulum ac eros pellentesque, viverra purus a, volutpat neque. Etiam interdum, velit sed bibendum porta, odio dui pulvinar risus, nec imperdiet elit diam eget ante. Phasellus semper interdum quam vitae tempor.

    Ut porttitor gravida pretium. In tincidunt venenatis maximus. Proin volutpat purus at odio blandit, non mollis orci fermentum. Etiam mattis, urna vel fermentum condimentum, neque metus rhoncus diam, a aliquet libero arcu nec dolor. Proin auctor elementum ante, et efficitur felis consectetur sit amet. Integer vel dolor dolor. Duis viverra volutpat finibus. Cras scelerisque pellentesque nunc, sed imperdiet sem rhoncus eget. Suspendisse luctus nibh id ante egestas, a porta ex pellentesque. Vivamus volutpat tellus eget dui convallis fringilla. Mauris auctor metus eget suscipit imperdiet. Phasellus vel odio non sapien porttitor pulvinar eu ac elit. Donec accumsan pellentesque facilisis. Praesent porta ullamcorper eros, a imperdiet lacus ultrices id. Cras gravida turpis a est malesuada, et sollicitudin arcu maximus.

    Suspendisse at lorem eu magna dictum varius vitae porta sapien. Nunc cursus, lectus non euismod bibendum, mauris erat pellentesque erat, a faucibus dui enim ut lectus. Vestibulum ante ipsum primis in faucibus orci luctus et ultrices posuere cubilia Curae; Maecenas euismod porta tempor. Curabitur elementum nulla id convallis elementum. Nulla porttitor ultricies nisl tempus molestie. Integer felis ipsum, aliquet eget blandit in, porta sit amet enim. Curabitur blandit porttitor posuere. Suspendisse nec augue elit. Sed nec odio augue.

    Ut porta velit non vulputate tempor. Nulla sed purus eget tortor fringilla commodo. Integer gravida elementum nisi eu aliquam. Cras porttitor congue ante, at viverra eros sollicitudin vitae. Proin commodo urna iaculis lacus molestie hendrerit. Quisque accumsan quis lorem at rutrum. Vivamus gravida facilisis eros. Morbi in libero nec massa venenatis elementum. Aenean accumsan dui porttitor porta consequat. Ut fermentum ex sed ante vulputate auctor. Curabitur venenatis ullamcorper tempor. Cras orci quam, egestas sit amet fermentum sit amet, efficitur eleifend orci. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Integer id elit sodales, viverra sapien quis, mollis est. Suspendisse pulvinar nibh risus, sed posuere lorem congue quis. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit.

    Nullam ut aliquam purus. In hac habitasse platea dictumst. Praesent et eros magna. In laoreet magna sit amet convallis hendrerit. Donec maximus risus urna, sit amet sollicitudin nisi finibus a. Nunc tellus tortor, posuere in pulvinar sit amet, malesuada sit amet turpis. In commodo magna in sagittis faucibus.

    1 Comment   Read more from DannyArchila
  • Give your entry a title

    by RosesAtSunset on April 14, 2018

    Thoughts on Cancer:

    Cells in our body are constantly dying and being replenished. Cancer occurs when there is an error and cells multiply at an accelerated rate, creating a tumour. A benign tumour occurs when the body is able to rectify the issue. A malignant tumour occurs when the body cannot fight the cell growth. Chemo works because it targets the fastest growing cells. However chemo also compromises the immune system. I think the best cure for cancer is meditation.


    Theory of Brain Inflammation Causing Mental Illness

    I follow the stress-diathesis model which posits that internal physiology and external stressors both impact the brain. Cortisol, or stress, causes brain inflammation and depending on the localization can cause a plethora of issues, including mental illness. It’s the truth because there shouldn’t be a nature/nurture debate. It’s both! There isn’t a cure, but there is a reason. So, we can stop blaming people for being sick and help them with the tools they have, before it’s too late. And as Bukowski said, there’s nothing worse than too late.

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  • First heartbreak

    by RosesAtSunset on March 18, 2018

    “How did she look?” Ramone groaned as he peeked out of his shell of blankets. 

    “Good. You know she always does. Don’t know why you keep asking,” I sighed. It was hard to stay sympathetic after three months of answering the same question everyday. 

    “Because maybe one day she’ll look as ugly as she is inside!” He exclaimed with melodramatic anguish.

    “Listen, dude. I love you. We all do. But you can’t keep hiding from her and Ricky. She chose him and she let you down easy.” I tried my best to be as kind as possible as I massaged my temple in an attempt to repress my irritation.

    “She is a cold, heartless... she-devil! A creature of darkness and despair! Why am I the only one who sees that!?” He cried out in his whiny, juvenile way.

    “Yes, I know. It hurts when the people we love don’t love us back. But it’s been three months, Ramone. It’s time to come back to work, or at least find another job. They’re not going to let you stay home for much longer.” I sat down beside him and patted his head in what I hoped was a soothing manner.

    “I’m going to stay here and die alone, like all of us do in the end anyway!” As he sobbed, the mountain of blankets shuddered and torn up candy wrappers fell on my lap. I couldn’t take it anymore. I stood up and ripped away the blankets, revealing a pale, shaking chest and stained sweatpants.

    “Ramone. This is it. Get in the shower. Get changed. We’re going to the park for some fresh air.” I said as sternly as I could manage. He didn’t say anything in response, but he stood up weakly and ambled to the washroom.

    I surveyed the apartment of my emotionally devastated friend, and decided to start with the overflowing trash can.

    3 Comments   Read more from RosesAtSunset
  • One man’s trash is another man’s Ash

    by RosesAtSunset on March 07, 2018

    I draw marigolds

    And let them curve

    Between the folds

    Watch the rooms in a city

    Dressed up in finery

    Always dark

    Or always curtained

    Let me peek between the times

    The good the glad and the lost souls

    Listen to your laugh

    And let it explode

    Tiny knives that disappear

    Marking the soul beneath the skin

    Listening in

    Living in the present

    Dragging out the peasants 

    Listening to your smile

    As I rip my heart from my throat

    And force it into your eye socket

    So you can see the damage 

    You did to me

    I could break into your old house and smash your dads shit

    I could send all the chicks you like pictures of your diseased dick

    But all I do is try to be present and good and kind

    As I try to swallow down the fact that you’ll never be mine

    I don’t know how to let people go

     But I swear I’m learning

    One day at a time

    I need some new friends

    And I promise to make the time

    You couldn’t handle my worst

    But neither could I 

    I needed you to make my heart work

    And now my life is a faint squiggly line

    I know you’re happy in that big city you moved to

    I just hope you remember the girl who used to sing to you

    And never wore make up

    Because she didn’t care what she looked like

    When she thought she was already loved

    The girl who wore the same 2 pairs of tights

    And never wore a bra

    And smoked too much weed

    And too many cigarettes

    Her car was full of trash and still is

    And she was always late

    But she brought you flowers every week

    And always sucked your dick

    But I guess I didn’t care who you were

    And I guess you didn’t either

    And now you’re a big shot lawyer in a big city with a fat bank account

    And I guess I don’t fit into that

    And I’m trying to move on

    But the betrayal weighs heavily on my heart

    And I don’t have anyone I can talk to


    We’re just a buncha cells fuckin anyway

    Why the fuck you gotta call me bae


    If I had your baby in a toilet

    I’d flush

    6 Comments   Read more from RosesAtSunset
  • Your Enlightened Posterior

    by NomadMonad on March 07, 2018

    ABBA kicked your pedantic ASS.

    Deal with it.


    4 Comments   Read more from NomadMonad
  • Global Renewal

    by NomadMonad on January 28, 2018

    Another false prophet, another beast—
    Another peace process for the Middle East . . .
    Another massacre, a newer war;
    A bright new scarlet global whore.
    Another poem, another curse
    A further plunge from worst to worse . . .
    Another sociopathic brute,
    Another bitch in a business suit.
    Another smiling psychopath;
    Another angel’s bowl of wrath
    Another data-driven plan
    To twist yet further fallen man . . .
    A bolder data-driven lie
    As LUCIFER ascends the sky,
    Another depression, another bust—
    In MAMMON we supremely TRUST !

    partake of my wares

    1 Comment   Read more from NomadMonad
  • Fake News Wets Bed

    by NomadMonad on October 28, 2017

    HEAR YE, HEAR YE:  It’s a wedding bell for bedding well while we’re crushin’ the illusion of Russian collusion! CNN wets on Russian bedding but Trump bets on Russian wedding, and you’re invited to the bridal shower. Punking the monkery, dig the debunkery; from Rasputin to Putin it’s time for some straight shootin’. Hillary looks old and glowers at Donald’s rumored golden showers. Our media owes US an explanation for streams of steaming urination, but we are willing to forgive and use their wet diapers as debt wipers. My poem’s appeal may take a toll, but let its little peal now roll:

    Tinkle, tinkle rings the bell
    A Fake News warning; time to spell
    out what was wet with Moscow girls.
    Putin’s putas?  Wisdom’s pearls
    were pried from Truth’s reluctant shell,
    banishing Hillary straight to hell.
    None. It’s what we want left over
    from this hag. We now discover
    beds were dry; it all amounted
    (all those golden tricks recounted)
    to less than a tepid bowl of kasha. . .
    Russia laughed from her summer dacha.
    InfoWars was on it first
    while Dems spun lies from false to worst,
    awarding cash for faked dossiers
    embellished with the CIA’s
    well-trained performing circus-seal.
    The FBI endorsed the deal
    as RINOS horned in on the action:
    Washingtonian distraction;
    a democrat-concocted fuss—

    . . . but we ALL paid Hillary to piss on us.

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  • Thanks, SM.

    by solvent_d on October 18, 2017

    This is x-posted from the Forum entry I just made:

    I just want to leave a note of thanks to the administrations and community who started and are keeping SM alive.

    I just logged back in last night and discovered the full list of lyrics I had transcribed over the years (dating back a decade), which not only led to me on a dangerous iTunes spree to recover all that I had loved but lost between numerous computer break-downs, but also brought back many fond memories of a thriving community back in a day when crowd-sourcing was but a notional practice without a name. Because of the many people who lend to the community their time and energy to transcribe and comment on the music that they love, the paucity in archiving/ documenting music is partially filled.

    SM doesn't seem to be as sparkly or as popular as other sites like Genius thesedays, but I really cannot think of any other sites that can quite claim to have contributed to the centralisation and proliferation of English lyrics online. I know this intimately because I see many lyric sites with lyrics ripped off from here hook, line and sinker--importing the many idiosyncracies, mistakes, misheard words and notations that SM contributors have.

    So thanks again, SM, for this amazing and wonderful resource over the years.

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  • From: ME To: ME

    by blueplates on September 28, 2017

    I scare people, they don't wanna hear it. They dont want to know, even if they ask. I'll never see you again and it won't mean anything to you but I'm going to be missing you for months. Or not at all. It's hard to say, because my humanity is just a bet. I feel everything violently or not at all with no in between. Get away while you can, because I only ever cry for myself, it's all about me, I deserve the best, the most, all. I love myself to diefication and yet somehow still violently hate myself. I'm a hedonist that doesn't deserve to eat. My hands and wrists are bony and I look at them with their bracelets and rings and I hate that I have a human form because it's all i will ever truly care about. ME, ME, ME, ME. I don't love myself back. 

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  • A Gentle Zephyr Wind of Love

    by NomadMonad on September 16, 2017

    My liberal friends, who love to preach
    who deign to enlighten and to reach
    the lower orders with their light
    to guard what’s left and set things right
    must deal with recent facts unkind
    which threaten the Progressive mind.

    Your narrative took a massive hit
    so suck it in—acknowledge it.
    Your media, misinformed and lame,
    now limping, has to bear the blame
    for polling as they hoped to hear
    leading (and speaking) from the rear.

    Indeed; you claim we won by Hate?
    in this you tend to underrate
    your sanctimonious fusillades.
    Your nemesis, against great odds
    was voted for by US, and won.
    (So sorry that God’s will was done.)
    Our diverse voters clinched the fight.
    You thought we had none on the Right?
    Hispanics? Thirty-odd percent.
    And black votes came in (Heaven-sent),
    more numerous than they were for Mitt
    so shut your pie-hole. Deal with it.
    Without them Trump could not have won;
    we’d be deprived of all this fun!
    The people did not buy the goods
    you foisted on our neighborhoods.
    And patriots now meet brand-new friends:
    political correctness ends
    when Truth joins hands with common sense.
    The truth will ALWAYS bring offense
    to smug elitist hypocrites
    and democratic counterfeits
    projecting their neurotic fears
    upon the Right. Oh the things one hears.
    We’re fascist and unfit to live
    We eat our children; never give
    a damn for the poor or a prayer for a soul.
    The “War on Women” our evil goal.
    We hear ourselves described as bigots.
    Bilious brew—and we must swig its
    bitterness in constant sips
    as insult pours from your spiteful lips.

    We’re rigid, White, misogynistic
    (my, how you wax antagonistic.
    Thought you were about tolerance
    and doing that Multi-Kulti dance…)
    We’re gender-biased (and repressed)
    unkind, unwise, uncouth, unblessed.
    What—since we don’t like Globalism,
    technoid One-World Kommunism
    we dwell in some hateful Nazi state?
    (You blather on… it’s getting late
    to re-use all your leftist smears
    which barely reach our deafened ears.)

    As young folks like to say: tough titty.
    You’re stranded outside the holy city.
    Our vast right-wing epiphany
    out-sang your PC tyranny.


    2 Comments   Read more from NomadMonad
  • I Just Found Out

    by NomadMonad on September 05, 2017

    ...that Walter Becker died on Sunday.

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  • Leave Me Alone

    by Ylena on August 09, 2017

    Hello darkness, my old friend,
    I've come to talk with you again,
    Because a vision softly creeping,
    Left its seeds while I was sleeping,
    And the vision that was planted in my brain
    Still remains
    Within the sound of silence

    In restless dreams I walked alone
    Narrow streets of cobblestone,
    'Neath the halo of a street lamp,
    I turned my collar to the cold and damp
    When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
    That split the night
    And touched the sound of silence

    And in the naked light I saw
    Ten thousand people, maybe more
    People talking without speaking,
    People hearing without listening,
    People writing songs that voices never share
    And no one dare
    Disturb the sound of silence

    "Fools" said I, "You do not know
    Silence like a cancer grows
    Hear my words that I might teach you,
    Take my arms that I might reach you"
    But my words like silent raindrops fell,
    And echoed in the wells of silence

    And the people bowed and prayed
    To the neon god they made
    And the sign flashed out its warning,
    In the words that it was forming

    And the sign said, "The words of the prophets
    Are written on the subway walls
    And tenement halls"
    And whispered in the sounds of silence

    7 Comments   Read more from Ylena
  • Mansplain THIS

    by NomadMonad on July 18, 2017   hinting at hitting on
    intersectional hinterlands
    intersexual undercourse
    underpar for underwear
    off-course, of course
    interCIS sissiness interests
    rests a cisgender-ender
    on a bi-gender bender
    genders endanger engendering
    male delivery of femaleman
    chain letters in chain-mail maelstrom
    higher matriarchy of the mail-room
    hire patriarchal malarkey
    good knight
    and good luck

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  • Poetry Wars

    by NomadMonad on July 11, 2017

    Oh Atlantic is swell and New Yorker is gay
    and the Times remains solid, a trusted mainstay…
    but the greatest of all, and eclipsing these bores
    is the valiant field-marshall of Info Wars.

    When the dinosaur media die in the flood,
    and our nation is thirsting for globalist blood
    and what’s news is left leaning towards formula-fake
    every patriot knows: there’s a vaccine to take !

    Yes, there’s Time for a Newsweek or Washington Post
    and a glib documentary from CNN’s host;
    there’s a Fox for your henhouse, there’s Anderson C.
    with a wink for the pretty-boys on your TV—

    And of course there is Megyn (forgot her last name)
    who lined up a hot date to accuse and to blame
    but our wily commander escaped from the fray
    with the evidence taped and the hounds still at bay.

    We love Rachel Maddow. She’s pert and she’s quick
    as she bludgeons the foe with that MSN shtick
    but our Alex is scourging these media-whores:
    the intrepid commander of Info Wars.

    With his supplements ready, he’s up for the fight.
    He’s the heart of God’s own anti-globalist Right.
    He’s enraging the tyrants. He’s on to their tricks
    (just like seventeen-hundred and seventy-six).

    You can love him or hate him, support or berate
    at your peril (our own Alexander the Great),
    but please—do not misunderestimate.
    He is less a George Bush and much more a Tom Paine
    whose pure diatribes render the traitors insane.

    So we love him. He’s right. He has answered the call,
    and we are the resistance. Let wickedness fall.
    He possesses their gates. He’s unhinging their doors;
    the untouchable captain of InfoWars.

    Yes, he’s hoarse and abrasive—a cowboy with grace
    as he spits it right back in the globalist’s face.
    He’s got millions of hits for each hundred of yours
    not to mention his elixirs, ammo, and cures.

    He’s the lion of Austin, renowned for his roar
    that empowers the zoo while he’s upping the score.
    An attempt to suppress him will bring on the worst
    and his beasts will defend what his enemies cursed.

    Transnational sociopaths, bankers and thugs
    and the globalist criminals pushing their drugs
    when the dust finally clears will be scrubbing his floors:
    he’s king of the castle of InfoWars.

    If his martyrdom happens, he’ll rise from the dead
    and then multiply YouTubes like fishes and bread.
    Resurrected, revived, he’ll ignite civil war
    till you wish you had known what the Lord had in store.

    If you hate him, you suck; you’re a traitor at heart.
    Don’t belittle his gifting, his talent, his art.
    If you cannot discern what is writ on your wall
    then get out of the way. Let your empire fall.

    Do not act cavalier, or he’ll Cromwell your town
    it will only blow up if you take the man down.
    He’s our knight; come the day and the laurels are ready…
    hold back; keep your wit and your armaments steady.

    My words bestow honor where honor is due:
    on the crown of each head of the InfoWars crew—
    till his voice, with a vengeance, shall break on far shores;
    the tsunami (and swami) of InfoWars.

    No Comments   Read more from NomadMonad
  • I am only a reflection of generic desires

    by blueplates on June 18, 2017

    The devestating truth is that some people complete themselves. You may feel like something is missing but nothing humanity has to offer can fill that empty space. People will try but even the most determined person will get tired of staring into eyes that act as a mirror instead of a window. It does make you feel inhuman after a while. Subhuman. 

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