Rage born of solitude, outcast.
#outcast
Above the earth and the firmament It is unclear who, actually, has i… Collective truism, our life is a m… One love, one life, they sing, Science contradicts,
The second waltz, Dmitri Shostako… A montage, all assertions from art From Luchino’s Gatopardo to Joe… Maybe I should be using a world a… A plane made of fractals, Godel’s…
People love being ordered, Presby… Glorified work of Protestants in… People are an interesting field of… Just maybe, cause... we are people… An alligator swings the Nile’s de…
Não sei solidworks, não sei mecano… E todavia assim e aqui o prego, Uma oração, uma canção, não sei P… Ignoro Gymp, After Effects, pouq… O que sabia era escrita e agora nã…
My lack of love My fault ambitions It is not a song That fault is my curse Dancing from a sky after the storm
I’d like to see the birds or at le… After waking early or late, real o… When they were all over my bedroom… And yet hummingbirds had their dri… Garden of another, erased my prese…
All of my Sorrows renewed Into unwanted tomorrows From the ashes of dream and desire Into little nothings of rage, emot… How small and insignificant our au…
Sorry to enter your beautiful, coh… Das Wort ist das Lebens des Sein… Well, Martin, only in part, the b… Feelings not translated to languag… Or whatever gets a knot in your st…
It’s about a life no one had never… About perspective a lot, forget a… Subject to extended statistical an… A potent tool, crystalline in inte… Power to deal with some demented
To wash away this pain, carry out… Don’t come in vain, I am being mercilessly slain But that’s OK, As explicitly was shown, they may.
A Pica do Poema do caralho: não sei que caralho valho! Redundâcia é tripla, Que caralho é esse malho Com que foderei teus cornos, esmag…
considering the history of modern mathematics two questions at once arise: (1) what limitations shall be placed upon the term Mathematics; (2) what force shall be assigned to the word ...
Regret, pain, incessantly Pain under all joy Pain like Pain Pain my Cold Mountain,
Words are just painted impressions And the world has taught us how They go astray and turn, or still. We stand upon this tainted hill Of diverted intent and call it his…