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It’s a cold loneliness that burrows deep into the bones icing any sort of action and smothering any emotion besides those attributed with despair. The moments pass too quickly any other time. In a relatively “normal” state time blitzes past and there’s always an underlining uneasiness of the present slipping away too quickly before you can fully immerse yourself into it. This is usually followed by a reflection on how fast the time elapsed and wondering where we were during it. How we could have possibly missed all the seconds passing by. The old “where did the time go” nonsense that never seems to straighten us up, but just leaving us more concerned every time we have this revelation. Now, however, the time doesn’t pass. The fear of it passing without my knowledge is now replaced with the fear of being so firmly grounded in the present consumed with a dull boredom sentencing me to death. I am your memories. I am your emptiness. I am the words you can’t find. I am nothing. BTW I belong to a group of people who are actively recruiting members for our family. We’ve scheduled a departure from this physical plane in the upcoming months and would love for you to join us. For more info we’ll be lecturing next Thurs. at the Church Underground on the corner of Palm and Nail at 9pm. See you there!
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There will be a lag in time as we recalibrate the reality projectors. WARNING: MOMENTS WILL BE LOST. Expect words to stick like glue, faces to blur, and glitchy gestures made in good faith to cause brief hallucinations. Possible gaps in reality are also to be expected. In such cases events may lose all logical sense. There’s a good chance you may even recall knowing someone you never met before. Don’t be surprised if you experience a never-ending rest for approximately three seconds. We want to apologize for any inconvenience this may cause you. We really do want to apologize. Honestly we do. But we can’t. Because we feel this is for your benefit as we do our best to give you, the people, a sense of belonging to this puzzle that’s falling apart. Sincerely, the government agent people of Unthinkable Cramps. Peace.
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Harvesting party and you’re invited! It’s been a beautiful season and the fields are in full bloom ready for picking. Help us in a fun-filled day of festivities as we pluck fresh soul pods and gather them for their new homes. The grassy hills will be behind us as we cross them on our way to tidy up the cemetery from overabundance of bodies. Is there a law against this you may think as we dig up sleepy graves, and I can assure you that I really don’t know the answer. But we do have spectacular music playing as we wish these souls well, urging them into their rotten shells. Regrets? You’ll have them if you miss this semi-spiritually rewarding activity. Fun for the whole family!
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Flying joy from the chest of a young lady standing in town square is upsetting many elderly folks. I speak as an elderly folk. She’s so loud I can barely hear my coffee machine talk to me. What if it rains? She’s not wearing a jacket. I’m not buying her tissues if she catches a cold. On top of that I can’t even walk outside without practically slipping in puddles of love and good intentions. At our age we can’t recover from slipping in something like that. Down we go for the count. Who’s raising these kids nowadays anyway? Don’t they teach them not to rub their excitement for the future in the face of those who barely have one left? Shall I sit here and think of brighter days gone by as she strikes chords of nostalgia within my bones? Bones I promised my coffee maker. How? How can I be expected to stay in my youth? To stay in her youth? It is sad beyond all conceiving. So please someone come and scoot her away before loneliness becomes my permanent address.
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