There I was at work, and the drafting people were
happy that the reactive robot that I invented and built for them was, as their
boss had told them, bought from another company. I worked at it. I thought about it. I viewed other people and what they have to
do to accomplish their work. I built it
for them and only got paid my hourly salary because my boss listens to his
boss’s boss who’s the uncle who owns part of the company. At lunch, near my desk, several of my work
partners slid down the stairs to get their cold chicken.
For my lunch, I fell to the floor
to wrap up some foot prints from my muddy work shoes. The way my life works is that I am usually
shoed away. Capistan and Cap A Goat. I
ate something that the cafeteria personal could not pronounce but could sell it
to me.
As I got back to work again, facing the gears
towards each other so they can grow energy but not rub off each others’
existences, I thought to them and to myself.
I occasionally noticed. My veins
are pipes made out of copper and my arteries are made of lead. My lungs are made of Pumice. My skin is made of hematite. My eyes are silicon. My likes are sulfurs. My dislikes are rusts. Usually, my foe is Iron Rust because of the Irony of my
situation. And I have to be situated a
lot, because without a parking lot I cannot sit. You may think I am Par but I think I am
King. King Kong, who snows my name like
Pung Pounce, ten times as mean as I am.
And I am treated like yam in a jam.
Whoever rams I?
I taught myself, to stay in
existence, what is made up in myself. It
worked its way to this. All existence is in columns. To know and accept and think we understand
each other or at least what we walk on
which We claim that those atom columns are the makeup of protons and neutrons
for individual elements are related to each other. We claim those different but similar in a
specific column act in similarly ways and we react to them in what we think are
similarly ways. The first column has one
free electron on its outer side. That
free electron is used to connect with elements to add up with eight outer
electrons making those elements elemental with ten agreeing electrons. The
connected water like substances are these:
Column 1A
The first column is the one giving
out one electron to the gaming, working together outer shell:
Hydrogen, Lithium, Sodium,
Potassium, Rubidium, Caesium, Francium
Column 8B
The eighth column is the one that allows,
uses, and abuses to make up in a connecting conjecture for water claiming
makeups:
Oxygen, Sulfur, Selenium,
Tellurium, Polonium, Livermorium
Ten is the comfort and agreement
of the electrons pairing up in their joining outer shells. That makes water. That makes liquid. That makes oil. That makes the oceans we claim we live
in. How can we ever claim that we are
Alive. Most claims are A Lie.
My body is made up of its water. But that water of mine is made up. Some say Water is H2O. Two Hydrogens to One Oxygen. Some Oxygen’s outer shells have 6 electrons
so they need to hook up with two more.
Hydrogen has one electron total, so that is one in its outer shell. A real molecule needs 8 electrons in its
combined outer shell so Water is made up of Two Hydrogens and One Oxygen. One of my fake waters is Two Potassiums and
One Tellurium. Another is Two Caesiums
and one Livermorium. Finally, I made up
my wonderful, full of wander, and whatever water with Two Lithiums and One
Sulfur. Eight and Two. Two and Eight. Ten is tense in the intense of its
intents.
H2O
K2Te
Cs2Rn
Li2S
Then I had to put up with a
supreme robot car which judged that people had breathed instead of beated those
beaded oxygenetic beeps. They are the
ones that sanction air and are not part of this country, so they should be skin
stripped and head banged. Two hundred
words here, two hundred dollars there, and two hundred business owners who
dare.
When that occurred to me, I did
not sweat. And even though that is not
sweet to me, it is because I feel cold no matter how warm it is. Those liquids that I hoped were water, flushed
constantly through my silicon salted skin, making those iron filings the
fillings of my lungs and minds. What?
Do I have No Heart? I have no mind and you don’t mind that. But you do set mines around me. And those are not the mines that dig me up,
those are the mines that blow me up. A
sparkle here and a crackle there makes the rich more happy to dare.
People, people, to Dare, to be one
of The Ones That Flew There, the Prism of the Prison of my eye slight causes a
sight which is not mine and definitely not in its prime. It calls me a Primate to my face but it calls
me an Ape to it’s rich folk friends. As
if rich folk can act like friends to anybody.
Here I am now, my arms are
scratched and my head is full of bumps but at least I am the least, and the
most lost, as I loop the most.
I finally realized that with my
art, I don’t make sense. But, people, when I dart, they sure think I make a lot of
scents. And if I don’t part from you, I won’t
make any cents.
Some
people say it is better to vent.
I
feel I am better than Advent.
I
just keep getting taken to my advantage.
I’m
glad I am at my Advanced Age.
Life
sure is in a cage.
Stop
your rage.
That’s
enough of this venture!
I Like To Write I Hope You Like To Read Some Of My STUFF
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