Daftness rhymes with deftness

[Colinsign]

I once knew a girl called Errand who was always rather busy
Turned out her name was Erin and my name was not Deafny!
*
Daftness rhymes with deftness: but that’s the only relationship they share.
Unless you’ve met my father who runs a top quality pottery making shop but cannot cook oven chips correctly (the oven cooks them of its own accord, I insist)…but he keeps in checking anyway - always undercooked. It’s not my fault - he says…but we know differently. Stick to the pots Dad! Love yee!
*
These big fake people with eyes that look like see through balloons are actually quite delicious from time to time…
*
Sometimes if you sit beside a total stranger you feel both minds pressing together like large friendly pillows or eyes turning toward each other and staring…
*
Through nights of madness, days of Fear, Lost in the Crowd, Found in Solitude, everyone we touch remembers us and the memories crystallize in the back of mind logged in the memory like a stone waiting for the final coming when all memory is shared in a neutral moment when everything is shed…
*
Sometimes you just can’t get the seatbelt into the lock on time and you just ride it out without fear…because sometimes you are this tiny brave car passenger filled with a tiny courageous distrust of seatbelts…
*
Love is a match it strikes and fades in an instant but the smell lingers and it is the smell of sentimental memories and o so private lovers heart…sometimes heart cries in secret on bed at night striking damp matches for nostalgia.
*
Laughter once raised the roof of a house when it was raining and everyone inside the house got soaking wet but they cared not because they cared only for the laughter and the laughter inside of the house: you see laughter is House with no roof filled with a herd of people soaked to the bone.
*
Feeling is quite the terror - terror-happy terror-sad - terror in the morning mad with memories mad with thoughts as fast as cars speeding down motorways. Feeling is a powerful snow - and it never melts in a season! Feeling is a power - it asks more of you - than many can handle - feeling is a big sensitive wobbly one at the top of your thoughts, in the sensitive part! Feeling is food, feeling is alive! Feeling is so short we must help it survive!

=D>

[Dan1 (Dan~)]

@Colinsign

I once knew a girl called Errand who was always rather busy
Turned out her name was Erin and my name was not Deafny!
*
Daftness rhymes with deftness: but that’s the only relationship they share.
Unless you’ve met my father who runs a top quality pottery making shop but cannot cook oven chips correctly (the oven cooks them of its own accord, I insist)…but he keeps in checking anyway - always undercooked. It’s not my fault - he says…but we know differently. Stick to the pots Dad! Love yee!
*

God damn burnt bacon.

These big fake people with eyes that look like see through balloons are actually quite delicious from time to time…
*

They’re usually better than corpses. Corpses are dirt.
I’d rather have a fake man than a real lumb of dirt.

Sometimes if you sit beside a total stranger you feel both minds pressing together like large friendly pillows or eyes turning toward each other and staring…
*

They just need an excuse to unify, and haven’t found one yet.

Through nights of madness, days of Fear, Lost in the Crowd, Found in Solitude, everyone we touch remembers us and the memories crystallize in the back of mind logged in the memory like a stone waiting for the final coming when all memory is shared in a neutral moment when everything is shed…
*

Ethereal-imprinting. Infinite memories, difficult to descern.

Sometimes you just can’t get the seatbelt into the lock on time and you just ride it out without fear…because sometimes you are this tiny brave car passenger filled with a tiny courageous distrust of seatbelts…
*

Priority. Mandate. Force. Now.

Love is a match it strikes and fades in an instant but the smell lingers and it is the smell of sentimental memories and o so private lovers heart…sometimes heart cries in secret on bed at night striking damp matches for nostalgia.
*

Not enough. Still hungry. Still thirsty. But atleast it’s keeping itself slim, and it has much time to think.

Laughter once raised the roof of a house when it was raining and everyone inside the house got soaking wet but they cared not because they cared only for the laughter and the laughter inside of the house: you see laughter is House with no roof filled with a herd of people soaked to the bone.
*

It discharges and liberates from the dogma of seriousness and truth itself.

Feeling is quite the terror - terror-happy terror-sad - terror in the morning mad with memories mad with thoughts as fast as cars speeding down motorways. Feeling is a powerful snow - and it never melts in a season! Feeling is a power - it asks more of you - than many can handle - feeling is a big sensitive wobbly one at the top of your thoughts, in the sensitive part! Feeling is food, feeling is alive! Feeling is so short we must help it survive!

=D>

Some feelings work harder than others.
Raw animance.