cristian's wordpad & lingering thoughts

dose of Cristianism & other absurdities.

Posts from the “letter” Category

syrup pt. 2 (2nd volume to syrup- a follow-up on intimacy)

Posted on October 27, 2020

she’s smiling cheek to cheek, wide veneer cheshire feel my eyes tether through your bed side this that pressurized, bend-her-over sex drive the entry to her treasure room, legs wide find you in the vestibule, whisper at your back side cause vigors’ just a side effect to when i imbibe if pleasures just a mental boost i take pleasure in these mental boosts every damn time every touch explodes, fingers foot soldiers on a land-mine something better be boiling on the inside finger trace narcotic curves. im on a daze can’t i? concentrate on what God unfurled? my pussy. you love it when i commentate on what i deserve but you hate when i try to say that im unheard undulating hyper-wave has gone…

super conservative (the poets descent into the ‘convenience’ of a sudden rejection)

Posted on October 17, 2020

if…I get to the point where no ones’ love embroiders me,I’d mix the oils, clay, and color coordinate the sordid seamsavoid distaste. annointed is the day shes holding mehoist your rose colored lies on a crown of thorny leaveshearing voices, and allof them enjoy to screamtend to open wounds, forget the ointment and gauzenirvanas intensely consoling. and im pointing to Godfor answers. for pensive motions, for something to wantmemorized medusas feet, & my neck is at oddsalleged moments, you put me through in the darkmemory wash, collective dullness, deafness and sobtook years to look at you in the eye, and your tear ductsthe only thing set to stone was the mountain between usconsider the fact, were considering redactingwhats upsetting to me, isnt your lack…

bondage (our chains, are invisible, but trust me, they’re there.)

Posted on May 4, 2020

inept, and upset, it’s like nothing is mentioned.lifes a run on sentence, interconnecting.eclectic, electric, im a plug in the wall.a bit so perplexive. spotting the occult in the psalms.the rejection. a song in the hall of this crazy asylumstraitjacket is off, and i still feel like i’mbindedabstaining. no hiding. not restrained or assignedwhat’s a goon to a goblin, what’s 12 noon to this bondage?loudspeakers.shouts weaken as i interrupt the connection.been seasons since I slept at the suns’ dusky consentgrayscale cuts. as lovely as everIt’s only fear if we love to project iti’ve learned to accept it, in a functional senseinflections infecting, so fucking intenseinflux of attention. but none to respectfound you by looking at your pendant glow in the dark on your neckdefunct. so…


Posted on September 26, 2018

i guess this is a letter to young me, and as old me having dominion over young me, and the fortune of being older and equipped with technology and the dream of possibly time traveling by watching too much sci-fi, or something- and possibly giving you this letter. dear little boy, this is older you. and if you don’t believe me, read this letter and I’m sorry for telling people you thought you could handle the worlds pain, silly goober. but here it is: (sorry if you don’t understand a word or two, but by now you’re probably reading dictionaries, soooo not so sorry) here i (we) am (are) again. i was naive when i was a boy. i (we) still am (are)! but……


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