I never really was one for shitting gold but it's starting to get a tad ridiculous.1
The more I seem to delve deeper into avant-garde arts the more drained of the idea I seem.2
My metaphors are becoming so obscure they're all beginning to mean the exact same thing.3
I also noticed my forms are surprisingly similar (if not, inverted) forms of my original poems.4
I need inspiration; something really crap to happen so I can create obscure references and feel like I'm making something new again.5
Until then all I've got is music; and those darnded music teachers make me feel like I'm doing nothing new either.6
Just thought I'd share that with the magistical people that don't care, especially those silly people that favourite me without either talking to me, or even reading my poetry.7
Oliver
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I must say it is really quite refreshing to come across someone with such an impressive intellect who already, at 18 years, impresses as being much more playful than arrogant. Most of us have to be humbled by the Fates for a few years before we manage that. Stick to that road, friend, and you will do wonderful things in the time you're given. No matter how brilliant they are, narcissistic people stay too busy forever wanting more to find happiness, and they don't learn how to be better people, either.
By the way, you are the only person I have ever run across whose style of critique reminds me of my own. I had nearly concluded I was E.T. the Extra Terrestrial. Perhaps the mother ship has landed somewhere in Great Britain. Care for some Reece's Pieces?
~Morgan -
I care, Oliver.
You'll get there. Just give it time. -
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Bleh bleh bleh!!
It doesn't help that I'm a master procrastinator to which this homework is going to rape me.
HUZZAH!!!
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Да есть большая очистка на моем молекулярном нарушеon Nov 17 5:26 PM, 600 words. → 2 comments, Add one?
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