>small passions (accomplice)*
Frankly, it's become so difficult for me to accomplish anything on the internet sites such as this one anymore. I'm feeling encouraged to give up writing altogether. There is no reason that I shouldn't be able to cut and paste directly from my Blogger blogs to this site. The companies are connected. The only place I can cut and paste directly to is Facebook, where I would rather not homeschool my words.
All of this corporate propriety bullshit it simply a scheme to repress and confuse me, an make money while doing so. There is no reason to privatize and control letters, pixels, art, paragraph formatting and information by blocking words and how their letters are placed. It creates an elite form of censorship. In its most extreme form, it results in hacking, phishing, and all of the bad things computers have brought to us. There are too many software engineers for the world's good.
The whole act of digitalization is to slightly advance the act of touching a letter key and seeing it slapped onto a piece of paper on a platen, Next in line for ripping consumers off is Artificial Self-Indulgence. It will "simplify" everything from writing, to designing, painting, and picking your nose into a simple-simom-sample-system of verbally wished desires. How much closer to societal masturbation can we get? And while we are pacified with that, the new Axis Powers (Russia, Israel, and the U.S. can lob missiles and drones at the non-elite country players and pirate their precious minerals. Why not? we are starving them to death anyways.
I'm getting off topic. The point is that I feel stifled and don't need all this noise. I know things have been better, MUCH BETTER, and I know that bullshit has not always been the case. Also, I am more disappointed than embarrassed to believe that my country's only real industry is turning children into sausage.
P.S. - every damn thing doesn't need a picture attached to it, especially if it's AI.
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> small passions (accomplice)*
I've tired of bitter men grown soft
long nights spooning, no hopes to rise
lead us to a winding staircase
proceed on landings, now unattended
unleash this body, so much refined
share harsh kisses in a cloak room
expose desires you once declined
yield lost secrets when encountered
show me places hard to find
choose me, lost in forgotten pleasures
with your instructions, I will comply
-dp-
6-28-16
revised 2025
*2025 Pride
Tacklebarn Press
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