when i was 4 i had a magic system
it required me to find three successive portals, that must be satisfying to behold and also naturally must be two young birches butting heads as they bow for me, freeze in awkward chock and preen. these must be passable in an agreeable way. the first must be accessible from a system of secret passages that only i know exist and i cannot understand who or what made them. the last must lead into a pleasant clearing where surrounding pines would obscure all other birches, from all angles. I would then start roughly forming with my hands the vegetation in the clearing to spell a big die. improve it with every visit, i always came alone, unafraid and empty handed. the place would always fall to love before to long. and my hated mark would die die die and after that i never return or treat it with respect, as you can see., and it would always folllow me and a good thing too. corpses have no enemies there. every third person is your mortal enemy and whatever you are, do or feel will doom u. SleeP

boomers dream, millennials realise
not unlike a lil boy they would ponder
if they in turn could, on legday in the sea of lies,
be weak enough to consumtion to die. Beyonder.

gaimans caracters all suck, really
we will all exise them from our minds
i have often said there is somethig Fucked with his sexrelated bits in sandman, it is like he blushes at the thought of sex and you can see the disconnect from his bullshit by lookin at the images. always creeped me. does this mean that tim hunter would have to go too, unrevenged against harry who would now be myrrdin his racist and vapid dog breed pisspoor copy of tim. remember molly

she rode the ultimate straw to me
the manosphere was on her heels
i kept her hidden and provided more
while the days became our nights and years

my ex never saw her tho she was close
but far too into her self, crying on toilets
the rooms agreed our love would pay her way to hell
as our voice united transcendant to pacify her

freed from the real my love became elvish
every moment was a song of solomon
we could never risk acting on our feelings
until we have found real enough to realise