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MICRO MANIFESTO
flowers have perfected a life without a sound. a flower sits, and speaks through its crown, and sends its energy around. a quiet days work is good intended and all it needs to function in this deep conjunction of society and piety- is the name of “what’s right.” a flower needs no wrong, because a flower will end up in the song: a poem that says all the lies, to hold the guilty tries, soMICRO MANIFESTO
the man looking for cans filled with souls that swing against the metal walls and clank on the cloaked feelings . the sound floating forgotten , they seep into my dreams . the trash sitters looking for treasures and coins , i can hear their carts rolling from down the street on the pavement . it disrupts my eyes , it irritates my sleeping mind . shut up ! silence is the only thing that canMICRO MANIFESTO
my dear, he was so sincere. cool as though he had not a fear for lust and it is what led me to give him all my trust . to end my year long celibacy to commit in heresy, to a man i could hold, but a love destined to be sold . it did not matter. to be engulfed by him – my spiritual twin, my past lover, my brother – was a wisdom and grace that could never be replaced . i miss him so, i wish iMICRO MANIFESTO
people are different in all walks of life. what makes anyone think it will be different in death . i could die and float away . you could die and choose to decay . some get trapped, unable to overlap or crossover, bit like a bad forever hangover . i believe that what youbelieve
WHAT HE LOVES BEST
flowers have perfected a life without a sound. a flower sits, and speaks through its crown, and sends its energy around. a quiet days work is good intended and all it needs to function in this deep conjunction of society and piety- is the name of “what’s right.” a flower needs no wrong, because a flower will end up in the song: a poem that says all the lies, to hold the guilty tries, soMICRO MANIFESTO
trying to tighten my grip as you slip into a shadow . darkness covers the sheets, the lamp's extinguished . turn the light on . - don't be so hard on my feelings, baby . be hard in my hands . be hard inside, in between: my hips. lick my lips, salivating ships in oceansLOLA LIGHTNING
walking, walking with no objective. i walk near memories and down avenues that could lead me to you. where ever you are, you aren’t looking for me. i crank up the volume on my headphones knowing that by 60 i won’t be able to hear below a shout, but i escape from the bellows, and the sirens, and the hustle, the jingling change and the over passing planes, and the trains under my feet. i’mMICRO MANIFESTO
excuse me ? what ? correct it if i am wrong , but it’s not my job to turn you on . we’re meant to be friends and friends are not lovers, certainly not a pair who shops for rubbers . lest we forget who we are and what we agreed : you and i , you and eyes that feed , don’t want to do the deed . who chose this chastity creed ? you – cannot pull me back at the given now because i’mMICRO MANIFESTO
i wish i could say i only like nice boys and that's why i'm a lesbian . but i don't like nice boys and i'm only partially gay . if even at all . it's hard to understand what we are and are not sometimes . until we dip our toes in to it . INTIMIDATING DATING ME i've been through this before it doesn't hurt anymore picking her over me doesn't hurt my self esteem because we know where you're tempted to be . we know who and who packs more steam . you call her up instead of me because you're afraid to get down on one knee, she makes itMICRO MANIFESTO
flowers have perfected a life without a sound. a flower sits, and speaks through its crown, and sends its energy around. a quiet days work is good intended and all it needs to function in this deep conjunction of society and piety- is the name of “what’s right.” a flower needs no wrong, because a flower will end up in the song: a poem that says all the lies, to hold the guilty tries, soMICRO MANIFESTO
the man looking for cans filled with souls that swing against the metal walls and clank on the cloaked feelings . the sound floating forgotten , they seep into my dreams . the trash sitters looking for treasures and coins , i can hear their carts rolling from down the street on the pavement . it disrupts my eyes , it irritates my sleeping mind . shut up ! silence is the only thing that canMICRO MANIFESTO
my dear, he was so sincere. cool as though he had not a fear for lust and it is what led me to give him all my trust . to end my year long celibacy to commit in heresy, to a man i could hold, but a love destined to be sold . it did not matter. to be engulfed by him – my spiritual twin, my past lover, my brother – was a wisdom and grace that could never be replaced . i miss him so, i wish iMICRO MANIFESTO
people are different in all walks of life. what makes anyone think it will be different in death . i could die and float away . you could die and choose to decay . some get trapped, unable to overlap or crossover, bit like a bad forever hangover . i believe that what youbelieve
WHAT HE LOVES BEST
flowers have perfected a life without a sound. a flower sits, and speaks through its crown, and sends its energy around. a quiet days work is good intended and all it needs to function in this deep conjunction of society and piety- is the name of “what’s right.” a flower needs no wrong, because a flower will end up in the song: a poem that says all the lies, to hold the guilty tries, soMICRO MANIFESTO
trying to tighten my grip as you slip into a shadow . darkness covers the sheets, the lamp's extinguished . turn the light on . - don't be so hard on my feelings, baby . be hard in my hands . be hard inside, in between: my hips. lick my lips, salivating ships in oceansLOLA LIGHTNING
walking, walking with no objective. i walk near memories and down avenues that could lead me to you. where ever you are, you aren’t looking for me. i crank up the volume on my headphones knowing that by 60 i won’t be able to hear below a shout, but i escape from the bellows, and the sirens, and the hustle, the jingling change and the over passing planes, and the trains under my feet. i’mMICRO MANIFESTO
excuse me ? what ? correct it if i am wrong , but it’s not my job to turn you on . we’re meant to be friends and friends are not lovers, certainly not a pair who shops for rubbers . lest we forget who we are and what we agreed : you and i , you and eyes that feed , don’t want to do the deed . who chose this chastity creed ? you – cannot pull me back at the given now because i’mMICRO MANIFESTO
i wish i could say i only like nice boys and that's why i'm a lesbian . but i don't like nice boys and i'm only partially gay . if even at all . it's hard to understand what we are and are not sometimes . until we dip our toes in to it . INTIMIDATING DATING ME i've been through this before it doesn't hurt anymore picking her over me doesn't hurt my self esteem because we know where you're tempted to be . we know who and who packs more steam . you call her up instead of me because you're afraid to get down on one knee, she makes itMICRO MANIFESTO
the man looking for cans filled with souls that swing against the metal walls and clank on the cloaked feelings . the sound floating forgotten , they seep into my dreams . the trash sitters looking for treasures and coins , i can hear their carts rolling from down the street on the pavement . it disrupts my eyes , it irritates my sleeping mind . shut up ! silence is the only thing that canMICRO MANIFESTO
walking, walking with no objective. i walk near memories and down avenues that could lead me to you. where ever you are, you aren’t looking for me. i crank up the volume on my headphones knowing that by 60 i won’t be able to hear below a shout, but i escape from the bellows, and the sirens, and the hustle, the jingling change and the over passing planes, and the trains under my feet. i’mMICRO MANIFESTO
people are different in all walks of life. what makes anyone think it will be different in death . i could die and float away . you could die and choose to decay . some get trapped, unable to overlap or crossover, bit like a bad forever hangover . i believe that what youbelieve
MICRO MANIFESTO
have you seen a man ? he walks around like he owns the place and i can’t find a trace or a hair , i can’t even find him under the stair . he said he would get me home, call me a car since ‘ i live so far ‘ and i’ve got something to tell him i only want a word, or a few , i hope it’s not absurd . i like your mouth and the nonchalance that protrudes , a mouth a mouth . that has soMICRO MANIFESTO
how much is this water ? - it's two dollar . well thank you anyways but no thank you . i've got one ($). it will only last me a minute . hello, i've got a problem . i've got a hold on my account and i would like to register for class . - wellMICRO MANIFESTO
trying to tighten my grip as you slip into a shadow . darkness covers the sheets, the lamp's extinguished . turn the light on . - don't be so hard on my feelings, baby . be hard in my hands . be hard inside, in between: my hips. lick my lips, salivating ships in oceansMICRO MANIFESTO
don’t be so surprised that i’ve written about you so plainly , why should you ? as if you didn’t know that daisy jane was crazy . oh , your wall got lazy , you let me in . you wanted to see what i would create so , i kissed you under your chin , on your neck and in, gave you neck and that’s how all this trouble came to begin . it doesn’t matter , it shouldn’t matter , not to youMICRO MANIFESTO
i began experimenting with naked photos at the ripe age of 14. i often craved sending people in my age bracket, photos of my bare chest. the idea of wanting to be “provocative” at that age was appalling to many; when i was caught sending these type of photos by a concerned mother, i was swiftly signed up for an extended period of therapy, given a firm talking to by my school counselorsMY SUICIDE LETTER
sitting a few bar stools down from my murderer . daisy must die - the dumb bitch . so full of love and hope and flowers. didn't she know that life doesn't work that way ? everything isn't what is seems and everything is unknown . hello barbara, it's nice to meet you . i'mDEAR MR . BONES
“maybe it’s a hungry ghost” is it much too soon to be writing to you ? when i can still smell hints of you at the brush of my hair, only hours away from our secret affair . the morning after, of moaning after: the corrupting, where the tip of you breached the mouth of my dripping, dripping sweet seat. lilacs that droop, a pounding loop. one fake orgasm, maybe two. pulling me acrossMICRO MANIFESTO
walking, walking with no objective. i walk near memories and down avenues that could lead me to you. where ever you are, you aren’t looking for me. i crank up the volume on my headphones knowing that by 60 i won’t be able to hear below a shout, but i escape from the bellows, and the sirens, and the hustle, the jingling change and the over passing planes, and the trains under my feet. i’mMICRO MANIFESTO
my dear, he was so sincere. cool as though he had not a fear for lust and it is what led me to give him all my trust . to end my year long celibacy to commit in heresy, to a man i could hold, but a love destined to be sold . it did not matter. to be engulfed by him – my spiritual twin, my past lover, my brother – was a wisdom and grace that could never be replaced . i miss him so, i wish iMICRO MANIFESTO
My essay will describe my experiences as an identified groupie chasing rockstars in the Internet era. I will share my opinion on what a groupie is; what it's like being a groupie - the drama, the love, the energy; how I am viewed and treated as a black female, in a male dominated music industry;MICRO MANIFESTO
have you seen a man ? he walks around like he owns the place and i can’t find a trace or a hair , i can’t even find him under the stair . he said he would get me home, call me a car since ‘ i live so far ‘ and i’ve got something to tell him i only want a word, or a few , i hope it’s not absurd . i like your mouth and the nonchalance that protrudes , a mouth a mouth . that has soMICRO MANIFESTO
trying to tighten my grip as you slip into a shadow . darkness covers the sheets, the lamp's extinguished . turn the light on . - don't be so hard on my feelings, baby . be hard in my hands . be hard inside, in between: my hips. lick my lips, salivating ships in oceansWHAT HE LOVES BEST
flowers have perfected a life without a sound. a flower sits, and speaks through its crown, and sends its energy around. a quiet days work is good intended and all it needs to function in this deep conjunction of society and piety- is the name of “what’s right.” a flower needs no wrong, because a flower will end up in the song: a poem that says all the lies, to hold the guilty tries, soMICRO MANIFESTO
i began experimenting with naked photos at the ripe age of 14. i often craved sending people in my age bracket, photos of my bare chest. the idea of wanting to be “provocative” at that age was appalling to many; when i was caught sending these type of photos by a concerned mother, i was swiftly signed up for an extended period of therapy, given a firm talking to by my school counselorsMICRO MANIFESTO
where are you ? you are here . you are not - in the walls on the ceiling, not physical, more like a feeling . hoping for a glimpse , a sweet relief, a sigh, something to imply your existence -MICRO MANIFESTO
i wish i could say i only like nice boys and that's why i'm a lesbian . but i don't like nice boys and i'm only partially gay . if even at all . it's hard to understand what we are and are not sometimes . until we dip our toes in to it .MY SUICIDE LETTER
sitting a few bar stools down from my murderer . daisy must die - the dumb bitch . so full of love and hope and flowers. didn't she know that life doesn't work that way ? everything isn't what is seems and everything is unknown . hello barbara, it's nice to meet you . i'mMICRO MANIFESTO
walking, walking with no objective. i walk near memories and down avenues that could lead me to you. where ever you are, you aren’t looking for me. i crank up the volume on my headphones knowing that by 60 i won’t be able to hear below a shout, but i escape from the bellows, and the sirens, and the hustle, the jingling change and the over passing planes, and the trains under my feet. i’mMICRO MANIFESTO
my dear, he was so sincere. cool as though he had not a fear for lust and it is what led me to give him all my trust . to end my year long celibacy to commit in heresy, to a man i could hold, but a love destined to be sold . it did not matter. to be engulfed by him – my spiritual twin, my past lover, my brother – was a wisdom and grace that could never be replaced . i miss him so, i wish iMICRO MANIFESTO
My essay will describe my experiences as an identified groupie chasing rockstars in the Internet era. I will share my opinion on what a groupie is; what it's like being a groupie - the drama, the love, the energy; how I am viewed and treated as a black female, in a male dominated music industry;MICRO MANIFESTO
have you seen a man ? he walks around like he owns the place and i can’t find a trace or a hair , i can’t even find him under the stair . he said he would get me home, call me a car since ‘ i live so far ‘ and i’ve got something to tell him i only want a word, or a few , i hope it’s not absurd . i like your mouth and the nonchalance that protrudes , a mouth a mouth . that has soMICRO MANIFESTO
trying to tighten my grip as you slip into a shadow . darkness covers the sheets, the lamp's extinguished . turn the light on . - don't be so hard on my feelings, baby . be hard in my hands . be hard inside, in between: my hips. lick my lips, salivating ships in oceansWHAT HE LOVES BEST
flowers have perfected a life without a sound. a flower sits, and speaks through its crown, and sends its energy around. a quiet days work is good intended and all it needs to function in this deep conjunction of society and piety- is the name of “what’s right.” a flower needs no wrong, because a flower will end up in the song: a poem that says all the lies, to hold the guilty tries, soMICRO MANIFESTO
i began experimenting with naked photos at the ripe age of 14. i often craved sending people in my age bracket, photos of my bare chest. the idea of wanting to be “provocative” at that age was appalling to many; when i was caught sending these type of photos by a concerned mother, i was swiftly signed up for an extended period of therapy, given a firm talking to by my school counselorsMICRO MANIFESTO
where are you ? you are here . you are not - in the walls on the ceiling, not physical, more like a feeling . hoping for a glimpse , a sweet relief, a sigh, something to imply your existence -MICRO MANIFESTO
i wish i could say i only like nice boys and that's why i'm a lesbian . but i don't like nice boys and i'm only partially gay . if even at all . it's hard to understand what we are and are not sometimes . until we dip our toes in to it .MY SUICIDE LETTER
sitting a few bar stools down from my murderer . daisy must die - the dumb bitch . so full of love and hope and flowers. didn't she know that life doesn't work that way ? everything isn't what is seems and everything is unknown . hello barbara, it's nice to meet you . i'mMICRO MANIFESTO
flowers have perfected a life without a sound. a flower sits, and speaks through its crown, and sends its energy around. a quiet days work is good intended and all it needs to function in this deep conjunction of society and piety- is the name of “what’s right.” a flower needs no wrong, because a flower will end up in the song: a poem that says all the lies, to hold the guilty tries, soMICRO MANIFESTO
trying to tighten my grip as you slip into a shadow . darkness covers the sheets, the lamp's extinguished . turn the light on . - don't be so hard on my feelings, baby . be hard in my hands . be hard inside, in between: my hips. lick my lips, salivating ships in oceansMY SUICIDE LETTER
sitting a few bar stools down from my murderer . daisy must die - the dumb bitch . so full of love and hope and flowers. didn't she know that life doesn't work that way ? everything isn't what is seems and everything is unknown . hello barbara, it's nice to meet you . i'mMICRO MANIFESTO
vroom, through the lane straight to my room where we both can bloom, like a cloud during a june rise, and maybe we can both find a surprise in one another . i would like to spend time with you and see what us two can get up to . what we can find, whatMICRO MANIFESTO
where are you ? you are here . you are not - in the walls on the ceiling, not physical, more like a feeling . hoping for a glimpse , a sweet relief, a sigh, something to imply your existence -MICRO MANIFESTO
don’t be so surprised that i’ve written about you so plainly , why should you ? as if you didn’t know that daisy jane was crazy . oh , your wall got lazy , you let me in . you wanted to see what i would create so , i kissed you under your chin , on your neck and in, gave you neck and that’s how all this trouble came to begin . it doesn’t matter , it shouldn’t matter , not to youMICRO MANIFESTO
how much is this water ? - it's two dollar . well thank you anyways but no thank you . i've got one ($). it will only last me a minute . hello, i've got a problem . i've got a hold on my account and i would like to register for class . - wellMICRO MANIFESTO
excuse me ? what ? correct it if i am wrong , but it’s not my job to turn you on . we’re meant to be friends and friends are not lovers, certainly not a pair who shops for rubbers . lest we forget who we are and what we agreed : you and i , you and eyes that feed , don’t want to do the deed . who chose this chastity creed ? you – cannot pull me back at the given now because i’mLOLA LIGHTNING
walking, walking with no objective. i walk near memories and down avenues that could lead me to you. where ever you are, you aren’t looking for me. i crank up the volume on my headphones knowing that by 60 i won’t be able to hear below a shout, but i escape from the bellows, and the sirens, and the hustle, the jingling change and the over passing planes, and the trains under my feet. i’mDEAR MR . BONES
“maybe it’s a hungry ghost” is it much too soon to be writing to you ? when i can still smell hints of you at the brush of my hair, only hours away from our secret affair . the morning after, of moaning after: the corrupting, where the tip of you breached the mouth of my dripping, dripping sweet seat. lilacs that droop, a pounding loop. one fake orgasm, maybe two. pulling me acrossMICRO MANIFESTO
walking, walking with no objective. i walk near memories and down avenues that could lead me to you. where ever you are, you aren’t looking for me. i crank up the volume on my headphones knowing that by 60 i won’t be able to hear below a shout, but i escape from the bellows, and the sirens, and the hustle, the jingling change and the over passing planes, and the trains under my feet. i’mMICRO MANIFESTO
My essay will describe my experiences as an identified groupie chasing rockstars in the Internet era. I will share my opinion on what a groupie is; what it's like being a groupie - the drama, the love, the energy; how I am viewed and treated as a black female, in a male dominated music industry;MICRO MANIFESTO
my dear, he was so sincere. cool as though he had not a fear for lust and it is what led me to give him all my trust . to end my year long celibacy to commit in heresy, to a man i could hold, but a love destined to be sold . it did not matter. to be engulfed by him – my spiritual twin, my past lover, my brother – was a wisdom and grace that could never be replaced . i miss him so, i wish iMICRO MANIFESTO
have you seen a man ? he walks around like he owns the place and i can’t find a trace or a hair , i can’t even find him under the stair . he said he would get me home, call me a car since ‘ i live so far ‘ and i’ve got something to tell him i only want a word, or a few , i hope it’s not absurd . i like your mouth and the nonchalance that protrudes , a mouth a mouth . that has soMICRO MANIFESTO
trying to tighten my grip as you slip into a shadow . darkness covers the sheets, the lamp's extinguished . turn the light on . - don't be so hard on my feelings, baby . be hard in my hands . be hard inside, in between: my hips. lick my lips, salivating ships in oceansMICRO MANIFESTO
i began experimenting with naked photos at the ripe age of 14. i often craved sending people in my age bracket, photos of my bare chest. the idea of wanting to be “provocative” at that age was appalling to many; when i was caught sending these type of photos by a concerned mother, i was swiftly signed up for an extended period of therapy, given a firm talking to by my school counselorsWHAT HE LOVES BEST
flowers have perfected a life without a sound. a flower sits, and speaks through its crown, and sends its energy around. a quiet days work is good intended and all it needs to function in this deep conjunction of society and piety- is the name of “what’s right.” a flower needs no wrong, because a flower will end up in the song: a poem that says all the lies, to hold the guilty tries, soMICRO MANIFESTO
where are you ? you are here . you are not - in the walls on the ceiling, not physical, more like a feeling . hoping for a glimpse , a sweet relief, a sigh, something to imply your existence -MICRO MANIFESTO
i wish i could say i only like nice boys and that's why i'm a lesbian . but i don't like nice boys and i'm only partially gay . if even at all . it's hard to understand what we are and are not sometimes . until we dip our toes in to it .MY SUICIDE LETTER
sitting a few bar stools down from my murderer . daisy must die - the dumb bitch . so full of love and hope and flowers. didn't she know that life doesn't work that way ? everything isn't what is seems and everything is unknown . hello barbara, it's nice to meet you . i'mMICRO MANIFESTO
walking, walking with no objective. i walk near memories and down avenues that could lead me to you. where ever you are, you aren’t looking for me. i crank up the volume on my headphones knowing that by 60 i won’t be able to hear below a shout, but i escape from the bellows, and the sirens, and the hustle, the jingling change and the over passing planes, and the trains under my feet. i’mMICRO MANIFESTO
My essay will describe my experiences as an identified groupie chasing rockstars in the Internet era. I will share my opinion on what a groupie is; what it's like being a groupie - the drama, the love, the energy; how I am viewed and treated as a black female, in a male dominated music industry;MICRO MANIFESTO
my dear, he was so sincere. cool as though he had not a fear for lust and it is what led me to give him all my trust . to end my year long celibacy to commit in heresy, to a man i could hold, but a love destined to be sold . it did not matter. to be engulfed by him – my spiritual twin, my past lover, my brother – was a wisdom and grace that could never be replaced . i miss him so, i wish iMICRO MANIFESTO
have you seen a man ? he walks around like he owns the place and i can’t find a trace or a hair , i can’t even find him under the stair . he said he would get me home, call me a car since ‘ i live so far ‘ and i’ve got something to tell him i only want a word, or a few , i hope it’s not absurd . i like your mouth and the nonchalance that protrudes , a mouth a mouth . that has soMICRO MANIFESTO
trying to tighten my grip as you slip into a shadow . darkness covers the sheets, the lamp's extinguished . turn the light on . - don't be so hard on my feelings, baby . be hard in my hands . be hard inside, in between: my hips. lick my lips, salivating ships in oceansMICRO MANIFESTO
i began experimenting with naked photos at the ripe age of 14. i often craved sending people in my age bracket, photos of my bare chest. the idea of wanting to be “provocative” at that age was appalling to many; when i was caught sending these type of photos by a concerned mother, i was swiftly signed up for an extended period of therapy, given a firm talking to by my school counselorsWHAT HE LOVES BEST
flowers have perfected a life without a sound. a flower sits, and speaks through its crown, and sends its energy around. a quiet days work is good intended and all it needs to function in this deep conjunction of society and piety- is the name of “what’s right.” a flower needs no wrong, because a flower will end up in the song: a poem that says all the lies, to hold the guilty tries, soMICRO MANIFESTO
where are you ? you are here . you are not - in the walls on the ceiling, not physical, more like a feeling . hoping for a glimpse , a sweet relief, a sigh, something to imply your existence -MICRO MANIFESTO
flowers have perfected a life without a sound. a flower sits, and speaks through its crown, and sends its energy around. a quiet days work is good intended and all it needs to function in this deep conjunction of society and piety- is the name of “what’s right.” a flower needs no wrong, because a flower will end up in the song: a poem that says all the lies, to hold the guilty tries, soMICRO MANIFESTO
trying to tighten my grip as you slip into a shadow . darkness covers the sheets, the lamp's extinguished . turn the light on . - don't be so hard on my feelings, baby . be hard in my hands . be hard inside, in between: my hips. lick my lips, salivating ships in oceansMY SUICIDE LETTER
sitting a few bar stools down from my murderer . daisy must die - the dumb bitch . so full of love and hope and flowers. didn't she know that life doesn't work that way ? everything isn't what is seems and everything is unknown . hello barbara, it's nice to meet you . i'mMICRO MANIFESTO
vroom, through the lane straight to my room where we both can bloom, like a cloud during a june rise, and maybe we can both find a surprise in one another . i would like to spend time with you and see what us two can get up to . what we can find, whatMICRO MANIFESTO
where are you ? you are here . you are not - in the walls on the ceiling, not physical, more like a feeling . hoping for a glimpse , a sweet relief, a sigh, something to imply your existence -MICRO MANIFESTO
don’t be so surprised that i’ve written about you so plainly , why should you ? as if you didn’t know that daisy jane was crazy . oh , your wall got lazy , you let me in . you wanted to see what i would create so , i kissed you under your chin , on your neck and in, gave you neck and that’s how all this trouble came to begin . it doesn’t matter , it shouldn’t matter , not to youMICRO MANIFESTO
how much is this water ? - it's two dollar . well thank you anyways but no thank you . i've got one ($). it will only last me a minute . hello, i've got a problem . i've got a hold on my account and i would like to register for class . - wellMICRO MANIFESTO
excuse me ? what ? correct it if i am wrong , but it’s not my job to turn you on . we’re meant to be friends and friends are not lovers, certainly not a pair who shops for rubbers . lest we forget who we are and what we agreed : you and i , you and eyes that feed , don’t want to do the deed . who chose this chastity creed ? you – cannot pull me back at the given now because i’mLOLA LIGHTNING
walking, walking with no objective. i walk near memories and down avenues that could lead me to you. where ever you are, you aren’t looking for me. i crank up the volume on my headphones knowing that by 60 i won’t be able to hear below a shout, but i escape from the bellows, and the sirens, and the hustle, the jingling change and the over passing planes, and the trains under my feet. i’mDEAR MR . BONES
“maybe it’s a hungry ghost” is it much too soon to be writing to you ? when i can still smell hints of you at the brush of my hair, only hours away from our secret affair . the morning after, of moaning after: the corrupting, where the tip of you breached the mouth of my dripping, dripping sweet seat. lilacs that droop, a pounding loop. one fake orgasm, maybe two. pulling me acrossMICRO MANIFESTO
flowers have perfected a life without a sound. a flower sits, and speaks through its crown, and sends its energy around. a quiet days work is good intended and all it needs to function in this deep conjunction of society and piety- is the name of “what’s right.” a flower needs no wrong, because a flower will end up in the song: a poem that says all the lies, to hold the guilty tries, soMICRO MANIFESTO
This is a text widget, which allows you to add text or HTML to your sidebar. You can use them to display text, links, images, HTML, or a combination of these.MICRO MANIFESTO
people are different in all walks of life. what makes anyone think it will be different in death . i could die and float away . you could die and choose to decay . some get trapped, unable to overlap or crossover, bit like a bad forever hangover . i believe that what youbelieve
LOLA LIGHTNING
walking, walking with no objective. i walk near memories and down avenues that could lead me to you. where ever you are, you aren’t looking for me. i crank up the volume on my headphones knowing that by 60 i won’t be able to hear below a shout, but i escape from the bellows, and the sirens, and the hustle, the jingling change and the over passing planes, and the trains under my feet. i’mMICRO MANIFESTO
how much is this water ? - it's two dollar . well thank you anyways but no thank you . i've got one ($). it will only last me a minute . hello, i've got a problem . i've got a hold on my account and i would like to register for class . - wellWHAT HE LOVES BEST
flowers have perfected a life without a sound. a flower sits, and speaks through its crown, and sends its energy around. a quiet days work is good intended and all it needs to function in this deep conjunction of society and piety- is the name of “what’s right.” a flower needs no wrong, because a flower will end up in the song: a poem that says all the lies, to hold the guilty tries, soMICRO MANIFESTO
i began experimenting with naked photos at the ripe age of 14. i often craved sending people in my age bracket, photos of my bare chest. the idea of wanting to be “provocative” at that age was appalling to many; when i was caught sending these type of photos by a concerned mother, i was swiftly signed up for an extended period of therapy, given a firm talking to by my school counselorsMICRO MANIFESTO
don’t be so surprised that i’ve written about you so plainly , why should you ? as if you didn’t know that daisy jane was crazy . oh , your wall got lazy , you let me in . you wanted to see what i would create so , i kissed you under your chin , on your neck and in, gave you neck and that’s how all this trouble came to begin . it doesn’t matter , it shouldn’t matter , not to youDEAR MR . BONES
“maybe it’s a hungry ghost” is it much too soon to be writing to you ? when i can still smell hints of you at the brush of my hair, only hours away from our secret affair . the morning after, of moaning after: the corrupting, where the tip of you breached the mouth of my dripping, dripping sweet seat. lilacs that droop, a pounding loop. one fake orgasm, maybe two. pulling me acrossLOLA LIGHTNING
i began experimenting with naked photos at the ripe age of 14. i often craved sending people in my age bracket, photos of my bare chest. the idea of wanting to be “provocative” at that age was appalling to many; when i was caught sending these type of photos by a concerned mother, i was swiftly signed up for an extended period of therapy, given a firm talking to by my school counselors andMICRO MANIFESTO
flowers have perfected a life without a sound. a flower sits, and speaks through its crown, and sends its energy around. a quiet days work is good intended and all it needs to function in this deep conjunction of society and piety- is the name of “what’s right.” a flower needs no wrong, because a flower will end up in the song: a poem that says all the lies, to hold the guilty tries, soMICRO MANIFESTO
This is a text widget, which allows you to add text or HTML to your sidebar. You can use them to display text, links, images, HTML, or a combination of these.MICRO MANIFESTO
people are different in all walks of life. what makes anyone think it will be different in death . i could die and float away . you could die and choose to decay . some get trapped, unable to overlap or crossover, bit like a bad forever hangover . i believe that what youbelieve
LOLA LIGHTNING
walking, walking with no objective. i walk near memories and down avenues that could lead me to you. where ever you are, you aren’t looking for me. i crank up the volume on my headphones knowing that by 60 i won’t be able to hear below a shout, but i escape from the bellows, and the sirens, and the hustle, the jingling change and the over passing planes, and the trains under my feet. i’mMICRO MANIFESTO
how much is this water ? - it's two dollar . well thank you anyways but no thank you . i've got one ($). it will only last me a minute . hello, i've got a problem . i've got a hold on my account and i would like to register for class . - wellWHAT HE LOVES BEST
flowers have perfected a life without a sound. a flower sits, and speaks through its crown, and sends its energy around. a quiet days work is good intended and all it needs to function in this deep conjunction of society and piety- is the name of “what’s right.” a flower needs no wrong, because a flower will end up in the song: a poem that says all the lies, to hold the guilty tries, soMICRO MANIFESTO
i began experimenting with naked photos at the ripe age of 14. i often craved sending people in my age bracket, photos of my bare chest. the idea of wanting to be “provocative” at that age was appalling to many; when i was caught sending these type of photos by a concerned mother, i was swiftly signed up for an extended period of therapy, given a firm talking to by my school counselorsMICRO MANIFESTO
don’t be so surprised that i’ve written about you so plainly , why should you ? as if you didn’t know that daisy jane was crazy . oh , your wall got lazy , you let me in . you wanted to see what i would create so , i kissed you under your chin , on your neck and in, gave you neck and that’s how all this trouble came to begin . it doesn’t matter , it shouldn’t matter , not to youDEAR MR . BONES
“maybe it’s a hungry ghost” is it much too soon to be writing to you ? when i can still smell hints of you at the brush of my hair, only hours away from our secret affair . the morning after, of moaning after: the corrupting, where the tip of you breached the mouth of my dripping, dripping sweet seat. lilacs that droop, a pounding loop. one fake orgasm, maybe two. pulling me acrossLOLA LIGHTNING
i began experimenting with naked photos at the ripe age of 14. i often craved sending people in my age bracket, photos of my bare chest. the idea of wanting to be “provocative” at that age was appalling to many; when i was caught sending these type of photos by a concerned mother, i was swiftly signed up for an extended period of therapy, given a firm talking to by my school counselors andMICRO MANIFESTO
walking, walking with no objective. i walk near memories and down avenues that could lead me to you. where ever you are, you aren’t looking for me. i crank up the volume on my headphones knowing that by 60 i won’t be able to hear below a shout, but i escape from the bellows, and the sirens, and the hustle, the jingling change and the over passing planes, and the trains under my feet. i’mMICRO MANIFESTO
The lord sent me an angel their name is toe knee he is beautiful in all angles and makes me feel less lonely The lord sent me a demon their name is toe knee pulled me out ofMICRO MANIFESTO
how much is this water ? - it's two dollar . well thank you anyways but no thank you . i've got one ($). it will only last me a minute . hello, i've got a problem . i've got a hold on my account and i would like to register for class . - wellMICRO MANIFESTO
i quickly molded into their conversation and enveloped in to their atmosphere. they were all very smart musically and skilled in barking conversation. it emitted off them . as they drank more it became wild and comical . their talk and communication was outstanding , speaking in howls and growls – yelps to the city jungle scrapers and the moons golden glow . it was a spit of vowels thatMICRO MANIFESTO
have you seen a man ? he walks around like he owns the place and i can’t find a trace or a hair , i can’t even find him under the stair . he said he would get me home, call me a car since ‘ i live so far ‘ and i’ve got something to tell him i only want a word, or a few , i hope it’s not absurd . i like your mouth and the nonchalance that protrudes , a mouth a mouth . that has soMICRO MANIFESTO
trying to tighten my grip as you slip into a shadow . darkness covers the sheets, the lamp's extinguished . turn the light on . - don't be so hard on my feelings, baby . be hard in my hands . be hard inside, in between: my hips. lick my lips, salivating ships in oceansMICRO MANIFESTO
where are you ? you are here . you are not - in the walls on the ceiling, not physical, more like a feeling . hoping for a glimpse , a sweet relief, a sigh, something to imply your existence -MICRO MANIFESTO
i wish i could say i only like nice boys and that's why i'm a lesbian . but i don't like nice boys and i'm only partially gay . if even at all . it's hard to understand what we are and are not sometimes . until we dip our toes in to it .MY SUICIDE LETTER
sitting a few bar stools down from my murderer . daisy must die - the dumb bitch . so full of love and hope and flowers. didn't she know that life doesn't work that way ? everything isn't what is seems and everything is unknown . hello barbara, it's nice to meet you . i'mMICRO MANIFESTO
men are so inspiring . the way they walk, the way they move, the way they fuck. i love dick, i wish i had one in me right now .MICRO MANIFESTO
walking, walking with no objective. i walk near memories and down avenues that could lead me to you. where ever you are, you aren’t looking for me. i crank up the volume on my headphones knowing that by 60 i won’t be able to hear below a shout, but i escape from the bellows, and the sirens, and the hustle, the jingling change and the over passing planes, and the trains under my feet. i’mMICRO MANIFESTO
my dear, he was so sincere. cool as though he had not a fear for lust and it is what led me to give him all my trust . to end my year long celibacy to commit in heresy, to a man i could hold, but a love destined to be sold . it did not matter. to be engulfed by him – my spiritual twin, my past lover, my brother – was a wisdom and grace that could never be replaced . i miss him so, i wish iMICRO MANIFESTO
My essay will describe my experiences as an identified groupie chasing rockstars in the Internet era. I will share my opinion on what a groupie is; what it's like being a groupie - the drama, the love, the energy; how I am viewed and treated as a black female, in a male dominated music industry;MICRO MANIFESTO
have you seen a man ? he walks around like he owns the place and i can’t find a trace or a hair , i can’t even find him under the stair . he said he would get me home, call me a car since ‘ i live so far ‘ and i’ve got something to tell him i only want a word, or a few , i hope it’s not absurd . i like your mouth and the nonchalance that protrudes , a mouth a mouth . that has soMICRO MANIFESTO
The lord sent me an angel their name is toe knee he is beautiful in all angles and makes me feel less lonely The lord sent me a demon their name is toe knee pulled me out ofMICRO MANIFESTO
trying to tighten my grip as you slip into a shadow . darkness covers the sheets, the lamp's extinguished . turn the light on . - don't be so hard on my feelings, baby . be hard in my hands . be hard inside, in between: my hips. lick my lips, salivating ships in oceansMICRO MANIFESTO
i began experimenting with naked photos at the ripe age of 14. i often craved sending people in my age bracket, photos of my bare chest. the idea of wanting to be “provocative” at that age was appalling to many; when i was caught sending these type of photos by a concerned mother, i was swiftly signed up for an extended period of therapy, given a firm talking to by my school counselorsMICRO MANIFESTO
where are you ? you are here . you are not - in the walls on the ceiling, not physical, more like a feeling . hoping for a glimpse , a sweet relief, a sigh, something to imply your existence -WHAT HE LOVES BEST
flowers have perfected a life without a sound. a flower sits, and speaks through its crown, and sends its energy around. a quiet days work is good intended and all it needs to function in this deep conjunction of society and piety- is the name of “what’s right.” a flower needs no wrong, because a flower will end up in the song: a poem that says all the lies, to hold the guilty tries, soMICRO MANIFESTO
i wish i could say i only like nice boys and that's why i'm a lesbian . but i don't like nice boys and i'm only partially gay . if even at all . it's hard to understand what we are and are not sometimes . until we dip our toes in to it .MICRO MANIFESTO
walking, walking with no objective. i walk near memories and down avenues that could lead me to you. where ever you are, you aren’t looking for me. i crank up the volume on my headphones knowing that by 60 i won’t be able to hear below a shout, but i escape from the bellows, and the sirens, and the hustle, the jingling change and the over passing planes, and the trains under my feet. i’mMICRO MANIFESTO
my dear, he was so sincere. cool as though he had not a fear for lust and it is what led me to give him all my trust . to end my year long celibacy to commit in heresy, to a man i could hold, but a love destined to be sold . it did not matter. to be engulfed by him – my spiritual twin, my past lover, my brother – was a wisdom and grace that could never be replaced . i miss him so, i wish iMICRO MANIFESTO
My essay will describe my experiences as an identified groupie chasing rockstars in the Internet era. I will share my opinion on what a groupie is; what it's like being a groupie - the drama, the love, the energy; how I am viewed and treated as a black female, in a male dominated music industry;MICRO MANIFESTO
have you seen a man ? he walks around like he owns the place and i can’t find a trace or a hair , i can’t even find him under the stair . he said he would get me home, call me a car since ‘ i live so far ‘ and i’ve got something to tell him i only want a word, or a few , i hope it’s not absurd . i like your mouth and the nonchalance that protrudes , a mouth a mouth . that has soMICRO MANIFESTO
The lord sent me an angel their name is toe knee he is beautiful in all angles and makes me feel less lonely The lord sent me a demon their name is toe knee pulled me out ofMICRO MANIFESTO
trying to tighten my grip as you slip into a shadow . darkness covers the sheets, the lamp's extinguished . turn the light on . - don't be so hard on my feelings, baby . be hard in my hands . be hard inside, in between: my hips. lick my lips, salivating ships in oceansMICRO MANIFESTO
i began experimenting with naked photos at the ripe age of 14. i often craved sending people in my age bracket, photos of my bare chest. the idea of wanting to be “provocative” at that age was appalling to many; when i was caught sending these type of photos by a concerned mother, i was swiftly signed up for an extended period of therapy, given a firm talking to by my school counselorsMICRO MANIFESTO
where are you ? you are here . you are not - in the walls on the ceiling, not physical, more like a feeling . hoping for a glimpse , a sweet relief, a sigh, something to imply your existence -WHAT HE LOVES BEST
flowers have perfected a life without a sound. a flower sits, and speaks through its crown, and sends its energy around. a quiet days work is good intended and all it needs to function in this deep conjunction of society and piety- is the name of “what’s right.” a flower needs no wrong, because a flower will end up in the song: a poem that says all the lies, to hold the guilty tries, soMICRO MANIFESTO
i wish i could say i only like nice boys and that's why i'm a lesbian . but i don't like nice boys and i'm only partially gay . if even at all . it's hard to understand what we are and are not sometimes . until we dip our toes in to it .MICRO MANIFESTO
flowers have perfected a life without a sound. a flower sits, and speaks through its crown, and sends its energy around. a quiet days work is good intended and all it needs to function in this deep conjunction of society and piety- is the name of “what’s right.” a flower needs no wrong, because a flower will end up in the song: a poem that says all the lies, to hold the guilty tries, so ABOUT – MICRO MANIFESTO This is a text widget, which allows you to add text or HTML to your sidebar. You can use them to display text, links, images, HTML, or a combination of these.MICRO MANIFESTO
walking, walking with no objective. i walk near memories and down avenues that could lead me to you. where ever you are, you aren’t looking for me. i crank up the volume on my headphones knowing that by 60 i won’t be able to hear below a shout, but i escape from the bellows, and the sirens, and the hustle, the jingling change and the over passing planes, and the trains under my feet. i’mMICRO MANIFESTO
The lord sent me an angel their name is toe knee he is beautiful in all angles and makes me feel less lonely The lord sent me a demon their name is toe knee pulled me out ofMICRO MANIFESTO
where are you ? you are here . you are not - in the walls on the ceiling, not physical, more like a feeling . hoping for a glimpse , a sweet relief, a sigh, something to imply your existence -MICRO MANIFESTO
This is a text widget, which allows you to add text or HTML to your sidebar. You can use them to display text, links, images, HTML, or a combination of these.WHAT HE LOVES BEST
flowers have perfected a life without a sound. a flower sits, and speaks through its crown, and sends its energy around. a quiet days work is good intended and all it needs to function in this deep conjunction of society and piety- is the name of “what’s right.” a flower needs no wrong, because a flower will end up in the song: a poem that says all the lies, to hold the guilty tries, soMICRO MANIFESTO
don’t be so surprised that i’ve written about you so plainly , why should you ? as if you didn’t know that daisy jane was crazy . oh , your wall got lazy , you let me in . you wanted to see what i would create so , i kissed you under your chin , on your neck and in, gave you neck and that’s how all this trouble came to begin . it doesn’t matter , it shouldn’t matter , not to youDEAR MR . BONES
“maybe it’s a hungry ghost” is it much too soon to be writing to you ? when i can still smell hints of you at the brush of my hair, only hours away from our secret affair . the morning after, of moaning after: the corrupting, where the tip of you breached the mouth of my dripping, dripping sweet seat. lilacs that droop, a pounding loop. one fake orgasm, maybe two. pulling me acrossMICRO MANIFESTO
i wish i could say i only like nice boys and that's why i'm a lesbian . but i don't like nice boys and i'm only partially gay . if even at all . it's hard to understand what we are and are not sometimes . until we dip our toes in to it .MICRO MANIFESTO
men are so inspiring . the way they walk, the way they move, the way they fuck. i love dick, i wish i had one in me right now . ABOUT – MICRO MANIFESTO This is a text widget, which allows you to add text or HTML to your sidebar. You can use them to display text, links, images, HTML, or a combination of these.MICRO MANIFESTO
walking, walking with no objective. i walk near memories and down avenues that could lead me to you. where ever you are, you aren’t looking for me. i crank up the volume on my headphones knowing that by 60 i won’t be able to hear below a shout, but i escape from the bellows, and the sirens, and the hustle, the jingling change and the over passing planes, and the trains under my feet. i’mMICRO MANIFESTO
The lord sent me an angel their name is toe knee he is beautiful in all angles and makes me feel less lonely The lord sent me a demon their name is toe knee pulled me out ofMICRO MANIFESTO
where are you ? you are here . you are not - in the walls on the ceiling, not physical, more like a feeling . hoping for a glimpse , a sweet relief, a sigh, something to imply your existence -MICRO MANIFESTO
This is a text widget, which allows you to add text or HTML to your sidebar. You can use them to display text, links, images, HTML, or a combination of these.WHAT HE LOVES BEST
flowers have perfected a life without a sound. a flower sits, and speaks through its crown, and sends its energy around. a quiet days work is good intended and all it needs to function in this deep conjunction of society and piety- is the name of “what’s right.” a flower needs no wrong, because a flower will end up in the song: a poem that says all the lies, to hold the guilty tries, soMICRO MANIFESTO
don’t be so surprised that i’ve written about you so plainly , why should you ? as if you didn’t know that daisy jane was crazy . oh , your wall got lazy , you let me in . you wanted to see what i would create so , i kissed you under your chin , on your neck and in, gave you neck and that’s how all this trouble came to begin . it doesn’t matter , it shouldn’t matter , not to youDEAR MR . BONES
“maybe it’s a hungry ghost” is it much too soon to be writing to you ? when i can still smell hints of you at the brush of my hair, only hours away from our secret affair . the morning after, of moaning after: the corrupting, where the tip of you breached the mouth of my dripping, dripping sweet seat. lilacs that droop, a pounding loop. one fake orgasm, maybe two. pulling me acrossMICRO MANIFESTO
i wish i could say i only like nice boys and that's why i'm a lesbian . but i don't like nice boys and i'm only partially gay . if even at all . it's hard to understand what we are and are not sometimes . until we dip our toes in to it .MICRO MANIFESTO
men are so inspiring . the way they walk, the way they move, the way they fuck. i love dick, i wish i had one in me right now .MICRO MANIFESTO
flowers have perfected a life without a sound. a flower sits, and speaks through its crown, and sends its energy around. a quiet days work is good intended and all it needs to function in this deep conjunction of society and piety- is the name of “what’s right.” a flower needs no wrong, because a flower will end up in the song: a poem that says all the lies, to hold the guilty tries, soSkip to content
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This is a text widget, which allows you to add text or HTML to your sidebar. You can use them to display text, links, images, HTML, or a combination of these. Edit them in the Widget section of theCustomizer .
The lord sent me an angel their name is toe knee he is beautiful in all angles and makes me feel less lonely The lord sent me a demon their name is toe knee pulled me out of the darkness now I am afraid to be lonelyComment
October 27, 2019
lola lightning
When personalized computers were first introduced, the earliest workstation cost between 1000 a month . This figure was considered more affordable, compared to the Linotype operator was 50,000 each, produced in the 1950s. The aim was to sell to the consumer, rather than the high tech math material computing it was previously used for. The introduction of PC opened a new type of dialogue and path for humans to become closer to technology.October 27, 2019
lola lightning
My essay will describe my experiences as an identified groupie chasing rockstars in the Internet era. I will share my opinion on what a groupie is; what it’s like being a groupie – the drama, the love, the energy; how I am viewed and treated as a black female, in a male dominated music industry; why groupies are generally a necessary contribution to art. I would like the opportunity to share my perspective on how I gravitate through my days as a hell blazing, gearstrapped, groupie.
Since the first cave man band beat their drum, there were probably fabulous cave women who inspired each plunder and thump. The styles have changed and the scenes have adjusted but one thing remains: the ever charming “muse”, who runs rampant through concerts, DJ sets, sports events… you name it. From Pamela, to Bebe, to Lori, to Sable: groupies have always been present. After certain culture shocks, groupies appeared to have disappeared from popular standpoint and media ; The idea took a very different context, and misogynistic negative imagery brought stigma for people who want to get close to bands. I would like to share the negatives, and the ever expanding positives to connecting with people through music and mutual affection.
Best, Lola LightningComment
October 27, 2019
lola lightning
i’m unsure if my writing ever makes any sense to anyone but me , but it’s honestly not that poignant and I want to write stories of all the interesting sex I’ve had with the gentlemen of 2019; a year of healing my sacral chakra and opening myself , allowing myself , the nurture of men in their most useful form : dick . I open up a story of lovers , filled with talent , leaking in music and a person that fulfills my katoptronophilia – reflection . It’s unusual to fuck the important; people who are “ in the scene “ or “ in the know “. The ‘ know ‘ is a very small circle of talent who inspire one another to create . My exalting effect is my magical pussy , that attracts fame like flies to honey . I’m only upset about it sometimes : when I grow bored and have to pleasure the next ; always a sad rebirth , you know , but someone’s gotta do it . a continuous fire must feed , so that the dominos may fall and art can be conceived . a subtle cause and effect that only people “ in the know “ can see and acknowledge as truth . The people who bleed and feed it … now I’ve had my toys , singing boys in the past , but nothing quite like the men of 2019 – who provided … and came , while keeping me on the brink of complete insane and deranged , but that’s how us – we people prefer to live . All dangerous and it’s out there : the easier to get noticed and the more adventurous , the more subject they will have for their art . So I go backstage and to after parties , and I do all these things they say don’t happen anymore and I catch the eyes of all those people that the public adore . Hmmm . what more could I really want ? I am surrounded in abundance and lots of love . Many people desire my affections , even if just once , they need it , and must attain it – and what is more desirable to be entirely desired ? I know what i like and I work hard for it ; musicians dig it . I’m a lady of my own . Now listen , it’s a crazy ride and sometimes things go unnoticed . I’m one of those cogs in the machine that keeps it grinding and all this winding up took years of practice . Soundcheck’s were snuck into , many DMs unhatched , always making friends from friends , so they follow my name anywhere I go . I became the enigma ; a culture machine to rip off ( and in New York , you can do that and get away with it ) . When you’re always walking around , people start to see you . Think of the internet , all those dark web holes we fall into , click , from one to another ; I slip into all the unknowns . I am known before i am met . i like it this way !Comment
October 18, 2019October 18, 2019lola lightning
Comment
April 17, 2019
lola lightning
nobody loves me
ain’t that sad
nobody loves me
it’s enough to make anyone feel badnobody loves me
but it makes me glad cos nobody loves me like youComment
March 18, 2019
lola lightning
ONLY U
what can i do ! to let you know i’m true ? round em all up and shoot em in the shoe? oh i’ll tell em it’s only you and multiply thatfeeling by two …
you know it’s true . i’ll kill em all , if that’s what you want me to do . because it’s you. only you .Comment
March 18, 2019
lola
lightning
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