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365 Group 4

Political Opinions

...we went along defending this
Because blue and red
Who the fuck needs thoughts in their head
When Luck is a good boy
And brought Chance to dance
Instead of Reason without a doubt
Because that’s a thug
We could do without
The crap we’re fed
Unbelievable shreds
Proofless evidence
But we follow
Whether or not it makes sense
Because we don’t like “them” or their opinions
Essentially the same nonsense we believe in
Another jackass leading us
Secretly the...

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The Good Guys

...Slow this chit chat and shoot back!
Unless you want to be dead meats by a couple of deadbeats. ”

“White boy is right. Focus, man, fight back.” Tyrel says and squeezes the trigger
“Like that!”

Across the parking lot members of the opposing gang
Alongside the cops they were exchanging merchandise with
They’re closing in
Tyrel, Antwan and Jonathan retreat
They go from cover to cover
Car to car
Trying to make their way further
But the gunshots don’t stop
They formed a firing line
Thugs and cops
Afraid to be imprisoned for breaking the law.

Little crimes they’ve committed
Pastime they’ve never admitted
They go unforgiven
By those they’ve involved
Those unwilling...

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A Discussion Using Reason

...discussion or argument with how you feel about the subject is incorrect. That doesn’t apply in a scenario with anyone other than yourself. When having a rational fact based discussion, one must always base the argument on the most objective truth possible.

Cutting someone off because you want to be heard makes no sense, unless you’d like to be cut off too and also not be heard which is no different than two people in two different conversations speaking next to each other. A discussion requires two sides willing to hear each other and willing to base the information...

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A Hero Suddenly Appears

...above the still waveless ocean. Migrating birds with thick feathery wings hunt the schools of fish scattering and jumping from the water. The sun’s fight to the top of the sky illuminates the bubbling ocean surface. It’s as if boiling as the fish attempt to escape whatever comes from below.

The waters bubble more intensely and the fish scatter opening way for the tip of a black pyramid gradually rising. It rises and rises and goes high enough to graze the clouds. At the very bottom of the black pyramid is a gap big enough to fit a person. Before it a path begins to emerge from the water, made of grey stone.

The morning skies become grey and cloudy as a lightning storm forms from a perfect day. Thunder roars and quakes the pyramid and the stone walkway. Pieces break from the walkway and sink to the bottom of the ocean...

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To The Grave

The gentle stroke of the keys as grand as the piano they’re played on rang and danced along the walls of the theatre. Papa’s talent was the thief of breaths and master of awe. The pin drop silence of the theatre when he played was something to behold. A moment cherishable with the fondest of memories. A performance which radiated a warm velvet aura riddled with subliminal hypnosis.

It was the loveliest of experiences. It could have only turned out better had you been there with him, Mama.

-          From Jane

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I Talk

...replaying, when I open my mouth, like a cruel game, I’m told they came out a different way.

The fix is intention. Mention the apprehension of emotional criticism. Isn’t wisdom what’s been missing?

It’s pointless to question the echo on the other side of a mirror when ripples still reflects the sky. But I’m not surprised being it I have to explain why your death to others doesn’t mean you die.

The objective is what should have...

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The Darkest of Them All

A straight stride has proven fruitless and aimless as time makes no difference. Walking for an infinity no longer than a week, starvation begins to sink in. Madness has long since stricken, although the stride has not been affected.

Broken dissolved vocal cords rasp with every breath. Destroyed by the screams held for days with hopes that someone would hear my pleas for mercy, with no avail. A torn bloodied forehead shows white bone bits cracked by my skulls repeated impact against concrete. Fingernails broken off by all the attempts to hatch another.

Debating whether to lay for rest and die as a means of escape from this merciless prison I see a shadow ahead. A dark figure piled into the corner where the wall and…

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Across The Mirror

That across the mirror isn’t me
It mocks me when I say I am
Laughs to my face with a twisted smile and a malicious stare
Both of which I’m sure I don’t display
When eyes watch me they see it as if I don’t exist
And I ask why, I ask how do they see it and not me
So it tells me that I am the reflection
That I am but a mere illusion of the truth across the mirror
It tells me that my entire world is of self-deception and denial
And I refuse to believe its lies when I know that I am
But it’s always watching
With a smirk on its face
Ready for when I look its way

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A Written God

...this world began to form within the text. It wasn’t clear what I was looking at when I began, but as I continued the things written earlier became clearer. And I’d go and I’d make tiny adjustments to keep things consistent throughout the entire text. And these people within the universe I created developed personalities and lives. And as I continued to write they had families and friends. Loved..

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Maintaining Order

...can handle being high,” Isaiah says, pressing down harder on the priest’s head.

“What exactly is it you even need money for?” Finn asks.

“He can’t answer right now,” Isaiah says, “He’s got his head in the clouds,” and grabs the silver gun off the table. Inscriptions glow gold on the sides of the pistol and the arms of the Transistor. Geometric patterns and tiny engraved words and squiggles connect.

“Take it easy,” Finn cautions Isaiah as he puts the pistol to the priest’s head.

“No.” A splash of red cracks through the coffee table’s glass top and it shatters.

Presidents fall gracefully through clouds of joy and ecstasy as a head crashes down right through them into a pool of chunky red. The bang echoes...

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Miriam

...catastrophic pileup on the highway by a middle school in the middle of an afternoon. “Fucking asshole! Ugh!” She walks off in the opposite direction and shuts the front door that was apparently open the entire span of the argument.

The kids are already upstairs avoiding dad’s angry yelling. Hiding in the best most quiet hiding spot.

Moments later Miriam is back in the kitchen eating the wine bottle through a frustration induced tomato face. Vibrant deep red wine drains into the glass and then out, over and over in rapid succession. Throwing the empty bottle in the...

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Nazi Sympathizer

...has a problem with me. And I am quite dark skinned. He does simple believe Germans are better than whatever I might be.

I call it pride in his heritage.

And don’t get it twisted, he does in fact believe outside of the structure of current society he deserves more than other races and that he is genetically pure. And then we go for coffee and talk about cars.

Now, his belief must be pride, less all other none white races simply be the Nazis of their respective groups. The Puerto Rican Nazi whom finds Puerto Ricans superior. The Dominican which finds Dominicans...

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Fucking Sports!

...as long as we’re not having sex they won’t reveal themselves having sex. The only way to gain their trust is through imitation. One must undergo a symbolic ritual of imitating the sexual act in order to see them doing the sexual act.

Isn’t that weird? Why is that? It’s like a seventh sense! Super meta monk mumbo jumbo. “You must first be the fucker to see the fucker.” And its existence is air, we feel it and never see it. It goes unseen for so long we’re eventually inside it without...

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Arthur

...he spots a small town up ahead. The incoming road welcomes newcomers with a large green sign reads Welcome to Pleasant Valley.

Customers come into view going in and out of a small bodega near the sign. Upon closer inspection Arthur finds it’s a plaza at the entrance of town. A small shopping center for the kind folk of Pleasant Valley and any kind visitors who might come through.

A small family of four catch his attention. He remembers having a mom and dad, and he’s always wanted a brother and sister, so he figures he’ll introduce himself. Arthur knows they’ll love him because he’s extremely caring and very sensitive. Those are good characteristics...

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