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my ill peripheral

Hang on tightly, let go lightly. I am alone. I am that point of light you can just barely make out from thirty-five-thousand feet above, when you are flying from east to west at night and your pilot tells you, " below is Nebraska. And so I point my headlights into the black, and lurch forward. Endlessly. God must be around here. Somewhere. He turned, and continued down into the ravine. To exist is to keep moving forward. Nature will provide, and the body will adapt. It will just be. Of eyes that vainly c...

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my ill peripheral | porfiry.blogspot.com Reviews
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Hang on tightly, let go lightly. I am alone. I am that point of light you can just barely make out from thirty-five-thousand feet above, when you are flying from east to west at night and your pilot tells you, below is Nebraska. And so I point my headlights into the black, and lurch forward. Endlessly. God must be around here. Somewhere. He turned, and continued down into the ravine. To exist is to keep moving forward. Nature will provide, and the body will adapt. It will just be. Of eyes that vainly c...
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1 my ill peripheral
2 imperfect perfection
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4 porfiry
5 late summer hymnal
6 oh me
7 oh life
8 answer
9 heard your voice
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my ill peripheral | porfiry.blogspot.com Reviews

https://porfiry.blogspot.com

Hang on tightly, let go lightly. I am alone. I am that point of light you can just barely make out from thirty-five-thousand feet above, when you are flying from east to west at night and your pilot tells you, " below is Nebraska. And so I point my headlights into the black, and lurch forward. Endlessly. God must be around here. Somewhere. He turned, and continued down into the ravine. To exist is to keep moving forward. Nature will provide, and the body will adapt. It will just be. Of eyes that vainly c...

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1

my ill peripheral: The importance of a blade of grass, of the wind rustling late summerleaves. (Thank you, Walt Whitman.)

http://www.porfiry.blogspot.com/2014/08/the-importance-of-blade-of-grass-of.html

Hang on tightly, let go lightly. The importance of a blade of grass, of the wind rustling late summer leaves. (Thank you, Walt Whitman.). Of the questions of these recurring,. Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities fill’d with the foolish,. Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless? Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean, of the struggle ever renew’d,. Of the empty and useless years of the rest, with the rest me intertwined,.

2

my ill peripheral: February 2012

http://www.porfiry.blogspot.com/2012_02_01_archive.html

Hang on tightly, let go lightly. I hate that I can feel myself withdrawing inside myself and I hate even more that I have not yet figured out how to stop the introspection. My eyes are jaundiced and tired and raw and angry. The room was packed with bodies and the swirling heat made the room smell like a thrift store. There was a literal throng of people who had given up their Monday evening to engage in the lost art of civil disobedience. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). View my complete profile.

3

my ill peripheral: February 2011

http://www.porfiry.blogspot.com/2011_02_01_archive.html

Hang on tightly, let go lightly. God, we are sick, we are so sick. This is fucking creepy. I would be like that mother, and I would crawl in next to him too, if he were cold, and I would not be able to let go. Not ever. And I did not want those thoughts in my head, not there, not when I didn’t have on my uniform, or my gun. Because I didn’t think I would be able to flip the switch if I didn’t have those things. That I would be too human, and vulnerable. Can you please close the window to my corvette.

4

my ill peripheral: Imperfect perfection

http://www.porfiry.blogspot.com/2015/08/imperfect-perfection.html

Hang on tightly, let go lightly. I am alone. I am that point of light you can just barely make out from thirty-five-thousand feet above, when you are flying from east to west at night and your pilot tells you, " below is Nebraska. And so I point my headlights into the black, and lurch forward. Endlessly. God must be around here. Somewhere. He turned, and continued down into the ravine. To exist is to keep moving forward. Nature will provide, and the body will adapt. It will just be. Save the earth by DIY.

5

my ill peripheral: August 2015

http://www.porfiry.blogspot.com/2015_08_01_archive.html

Hang on tightly, let go lightly. I am alone. I am that point of light you can just barely make out from thirty-five-thousand feet above, when you are flying from east to west at night and your pilot tells you, " below is Nebraska. And so I point my headlights into the black, and lurch forward. Endlessly. God must be around here. Somewhere. He turned, and continued down into the ravine. To exist is to keep moving forward. Nature will provide, and the body will adapt. It will just be. Save the earth by DIY.

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A Primate's Tale: 2006/01

http://howlingmonkey.blogspot.com/2006_01_01_archive.html

1When I was 7 or 8 I spent many hours dressed up as a traveling salesman. 2I still don't know what possessed me to do it. 3I'm in the mood for a cigarette tonight but I am resisting. 4I totally agree with Thoreau when he said that most men lead lives of quiet desperation. 5I'm finding it extremely difficult to write random things down about myself. 6I've been told that I am often too serious and intense. 7I find it painful to discuss inane pleasantries with people I hardly know. 11I like to bend the rules.

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A Primate's Tale: 2005/11

http://howlingmonkey.blogspot.com/2005_11_01_archive.html

Trouvé dans la traduction, d'une certaine façon. First ever post. What to write? J'ai peint le ciel. Avec le sang de mon coeur,. Pompé par chaque pouce de mon corps,. I've painted the sky. With the blood from my heart,. Pumped through every inch of my body,. Just like the sky. Posted by The Monkey at 4:43 AM. Northeastern New Jersey, United States. View my complete profile. Just Clearing My Head. Peace and Justice Radio. While visiting my family in Maryland last . Ani owns my speakers.

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A Primate's Tale: 2006/02

http://howlingmonkey.blogspot.com/2006_02_01_archive.html

I'm having a really hard time with this blog. I censor myself so often and so well that to spill my guts in a place where anyone can read it really freaks me out. I never write the stuff that's floating around in my head because then everyone will know what a fragile nutcase I am. It was a bad day. It was the wrong day to cut me off on the highway. Every normal man must be tempted at times to spit on his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin to slit throats. The part of my body that I like?

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Just Clearing My Head: Oxford Girls

http://euc.blogspot.com/2015/01/oxford-girls.html

Just Clearing My Head. Monday, January 05, 2015. High school can be tough, but you will make it! Be smart, don't make stupid decisions! Go out there and make a world for yourself! Talk to the people you want to, ignore those who let you down and make you feel worthless. They ain't worth it. Just remember, life is yours. You make what your life is. Every decision will impact it.". Thank you so much, anonymous senior. Posted by euc @ 3:13 PM. View my complete profile. Who else i'm reading.

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Just Clearing My Head: October 2004

http://euc.blogspot.com/2004_10_01_archive.html

Just Clearing My Head. Saturday, October 30, 2004. To All The People In The Dead Sea:. Like so many pinballs riccocheting from one bumper to the next, only the pinballs are all of us that walk this earth, and the bumpers are the myriad stimuli we encounter. Bound to what we experience via our five senses. Careering from one sensory experience to the next. One reaction to the next. Cause and effect? Cause, cause, cause. Effect. Effect. Effect. I have fit into this definition! It only asks that one examine...

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Just Clearing My Head: Obtuse

http://euc.blogspot.com/2013/12/obtuse.html

Just Clearing My Head. Tuesday, December 10, 2013. So what do you do about that? Posted by euc @ 2:59 PM. Life is the slow trek to recover, through the detour of art, the one or two images in the presence of which our hearts first opened. View my complete profile. Who else i'm reading. The Two Kinds of Change. Errant heat to the star.

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Just Clearing My Head: Bloodbuzz

http://euc.blogspot.com/2013/12/bloodbuzz.html

Just Clearing My Head. Thursday, December 12, 2013. Sun streaming East 24th and Euclid the RTA health line brushes past my toes takes my breath and I think of her, a thousand years ago, how we used to just know, a million words. Not in corners and with headphones on but all the time. And to offer no apology. Posted by euc @ 11:52 AM. Life is the slow trek to recover, through the detour of art, the one or two images in the presence of which our hearts first opened. View my complete profile.

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Just Clearing My Head: February 2005

http://euc.blogspot.com/2005_02_01_archive.html

Just Clearing My Head. Monday, February 28, 2005. Not agreeing does not preclude being excellent to each other. But breaking points exist in any relationship, regardless of the origins. Posted by euc @ 11:50 AM. I cannot live with you -. It would be life,. And life is over there on the shelf,. The sexton keeps the key to. That's you over there, in that van. Who gives a fuck-all about how thin the ice is you're about to land on. The thing is to keep driving anyway.". Posted by euc @ 10:16 AM. Negativity i...

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Just Clearing My Head: Rockefeller.

http://euc.blogspot.com/2014/07/rockefeller.html

Just Clearing My Head. Wednesday, July 23, 2014. Good vs. bad. The conversation that you so desperately wait for. And the mendacity required to allow it. He moved to Chicago, he became a professor, and you were the one he wanted to talk to about it. The way that your eyes dilate, his sweet nature, the conversation that just couldn't happen under any other avenues. Is that how people do it? Do they compartmentalize their lives that way? But actual real decisions need to be made. No they don't.

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my ill peripheral

Hang on tightly, let go lightly. I am alone. I am that point of light you can just barely make out from thirty-five-thousand feet above, when you are flying from east to west at night and your pilot tells you, " below is Nebraska. And so I point my headlights into the black, and lurch forward. Endlessly. God must be around here. Somewhere. He turned, and continued down into the ravine. To exist is to keep moving forward. Nature will provide, and the body will adapt. It will just be. Of eyes that vainly c...

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