i was medicated not dedicated
it assisted to loosen the grip
and the looser the grip was assisted
the better the fucking trip
i wasn’t fucking sober
and i wasn’t fucking high
i wasn’t about to live my life
but i wasn’t going to die
i wasn’t going to roll over
as i waited to conform
i was about to do something foolish
but not stray too far from the norm
i was up that famous creek
a faded doctrine was my paddle
your outrageous feigned offense
was another hurdle yet to straddle
it’s not the tedium of the medium
it’s the clause within their laws
it’s my dedication to the medication
it’s not about winning and not about scores
it’s the silent voice and lack of choice
girls and boys pure white noise
schemes and dreams plots and plans
one hundred thousand different scams
the weirdness elective the process selective
blunt tool word play speculation hearsay
cheap illusions tired conclusions
worn out torn out fattened delusions
synthetic simulations genuine imitations
obscene initiations strategic limitations
the voices of scandal whisper softly
About the Creator
Bren
"It's just a token of my extreme!" - Frank Zappa
"Cause it's all in the heat of the moment It's all in the pain!!!" - Devin Townsend
Centre Stage with the wonderful Heather Hubler
I'm writing it out not acting in doubt!
Reader insights
Outstanding
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
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Compelling and original writing
Creative use of language & vocab
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Well-structured & engaging content
Excellent storytelling
Original narrative & well developed characters
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Arguments were carefully researched and presented
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Niche topic & fresh perspectives
Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
Masterful proofreading
Zero grammar & spelling mistakes
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Writing reflected the title & theme
Blowing Smoke
Thick white plume gushes from flue pipes, a balcony view. Negative five degrees; I sit. I watch. I think. Blowing smoke sends clouds a confirmation. My cloudy vision readjusts; head nod to cumulus and all things I thought I knew. Furnace breathing system exhales, and I realize false information often misleads me.
By Marilyn Glover3 days ago in Poets
Off the Book
It ended like every other stupid idea. Badly, and alone. I’m researching digital confession ethics, he said. A tech ethicist. He gestured at floating data I couldn’t see then pulled out a physical notebook. Actual paper, fountain pen. He held it up like he was showing me scripture.
By Nicky Frankly6 days ago in Fiction
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