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Insightful Post Dump

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Manta Obscura:
Last archive post I'll do for today; 10 in one day is enough.

This is another whoring of my own work. It's a poem that I began last year at Christmas, but was unable to think of a good second half. A few days ago I reread what I had and the inspiration struck me:

The Night Before Christmas Munchies

By Manta



'Twas the night before Christmas

and all through the shanty,

not a person was stirring,

not uncle or aunty.

But through the thin walls

I heard a great thumping,

a moan and a gasp,

the neighbors were humping.

I tried to ignore them

and lay my head down,

yet even covered in pillows

my ears heard the sound.

So rising from bed

to escape the perversion,

I went to the kitchen

in hopes of diversion.

I opened the fridge

to find me a snack,

yet the food was all moldy,

bitter and black.

Unfilled and disgusted

I went to find cash,

to order a pizza

to come in a flash.

Yet the phone kept on ringing,

no answer in sight,

so I bellowed my lungs out,

cursing with spite.

"The stores are all closed now,"

I said with a sneer,

as wont they're to be

when Christmas is near.

So with no options now left

I went back to bed,

fluffed up my pillow and

layed down my head.

Christmas was waiting

just a dream's width away,

behind night's deep curtain

in the newness of day.

Thus sleep was my savior,

to bring Christmas, so dandy,

alive with bright colors,

and especially candy.

In the morning my munchies

would be gone in a snap,

but as for right now I'd

take a quick nap.

Manta Obscura:
I lied about the last post thing, because I came across this:

http://www.principiadiscordia.com/forum/index.php?topic=18143.0

The whole thread is very powerful. I'm in tears right now.

Cramulus:
:mittens: to the thread

Manta Obscura:
From Payne, the initial post in his thread titled "Chain Mail."


--- Quote from: Payne on April 02, 2007, 08:37:41 am ---Your possessions no longer interest me, neither does your fragile mental state. Your intellect has become stale and useless, wallpaper in the cage you call your life, a mere link in the chains you are to make yourself. Forced to do so by yourself.

Your friends/family/pets/rulers/employers are meaningless constructs until you accept the grim reality of this situation. Perhaps they are meaningless until they accept the reality of their very own imprisionment.

Go on, make a checklist of what you need to survive. Done? Good.

Besides food, warmth, shelter, what, if taken away, would actually kill you?

Discard as appropriate.

Now break down whats left. Do you really need your takeaway pizza every weekend? Would you really be a lesser person if you had a one bedroom housing cube in the shadowy part of the big city?

Discard as appropriate.

Now you have pressed the reset button. Feel free to add to your list again, but this time its not what you need to survive, its what you need to live.

Add your favourite art, scenic views and witticisms. Most of all, I suggest the quiet dignity of a free human. But thats only me, you are now in total editorial control.

Done? Good.

Now look around you. Does anything seem different? Do you really like that McBurgerHut down the road, the one you've been hanging around, inside and out, since you were able enough to say "I want!!" and point? Does the preacherman seem more, or less, creepy? Something never sat quite right with his fantastical tales of eternal paradise, if only you were "good" in this life. A life which, to the best of MY knowledge, is the only one you are guaranteeed to have?

Do you have any questions you have to have the answers to, answers that you know only you can find?

Good. Join the club.

This is a chainmail letter, you must now invent a way to mail it to yourself five years ago...

P.S. Have more fun, I can tell you it wasn't a barrel of laughs the first time around.


--- End quote ---

LMNO:
Surprisingly, this thread has now taken a turn for the Awesome.

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