Friday, November 30, 2012


Here is a sentence some of us made while playing the sentence game around the table one afternoon.


Me is the word I used to describe the sound ineffable that flows
softly through my screeching house with great grace and astounding,
marvelous accuracy in times past before I grew to know video recorded
stories that became my horribly indescribable nightmare of hideous faces
in closet doors that came at me with screeching laughter and knives that
were very deceitful and sharp though in the shape they were it was hard
to distinguish which one actually was real because someone had chosen
a costume that had deviousness glittering sharply throughout its entire 
frame of wood which was hiding behind the closet of my dream which
had those unreal yet frightening faces mysteriously screeching at me
while scornfully, softly sneering yet singing with gracefulness incredible
that maybe made the sneering scornful in different faces which seemed 
offensive to myself, less so to others, but mostly more ridiculous to people
 who don't like me silly or my fairytales which are to amazingly marvelous 
for simple people to appreciate fully and enjoy thoroughly or at least believe
in a story like mine which as a real true dream that passes away in drip drop
 silence that yells truthfulness and wakefulness though truly it was merely 
just odd and weird so freakishly that I grabbed my own vorpal leg which
was turning somersaults without my consent which created a soft sound 
that I described as Me.

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