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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 16:43:06 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 38253
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Wise Beyond My Skin
[time] => 2004-03-11 13:46:22
[hometext] => i don't need to be seventy-three to know what i'm talking about.
[bodytext] => Look, I know I'm just nineteen. Yeah, my skin's still tight over my face and it still clings to my hands just like any nineteen year old skin does. No, I haven't even started thinking about my metabolism yet. But don't use my age against me to assume that I'm naive. I'm not the "usual" American teenage ****up. I am wise beyond my skin. I take refuge in the truth, dhammam saranam gocchami. To quote my man Kerouac I know that the sky is blue just because I want to know why. Sometimes I spend a day mulling over my existence. But I guess there's no need for that since none of this exists anyway. This pen doesn't exist without my mind. I feel its shape and texture. I see that it is red. I see the inkblood bleeding my thoughts onto this neatly folded tree. But without my mind, it's nil. Its feeling its color its ink its being its existence obsolete. My mind is The Creator. My mind, she is God. I am wisdom, I am foolishness. I am truth, I am deceit. I am peace, I am war. I am love, I am hate. I am you, I am me. I am him. I am her. I am. Nineteen. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 229 [topic] => 21 [informant] => Magnolia [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )
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