It looks like you're using an Ad Blocker.

Please white-list or disable in your ad-blocking tool.

Thank you.


Some features of ATS will be disabled while you continue to use an ad-blocker.


A Stain in the Web

page: 1

log in


posted on Mar, 30 2006 @ 12:00 PM
A click on a mouse.
Time alone in this house.
A myriad of thoughts pounded out via a keyboard.
Souls lost, people searching, a game of interaction.
Cause without reason, a technology facilitates reaction.

Lost in a web of contradiction, pain and frustration we find.
Others with like minds, an addiction of shared thoughts, disagreements, and all there was.

Reality twisted by space and time, lost in binary code, the human factor that consumes.
Eats away at the vastness within, and opens to all that can be dreamed of.

A warped sense of self, a place to be. Something to do, an alter ego that resembles you.

A conspiracy of electronic connection, a time of half truths and reflection. All to easy to be; anything, anyone. There it is, there I am, what I think, who I could be, what I want others to see, the other me, click it's done.

In an instant I can see what I have become, and do not yet understand the mystery. Who am I, why do I do this. What have I won?

One more post, another host, I scour the web, some truths I shed. And all the things I've seen and read.

With all there is in this digital, pixel universe. I am just another stain in the web.

If you are reading this, what have you done? Where have you been? What is your boggle? Where is your Pain?

Who the hell are you? And where have you left your stain?

posted on Mar, 30 2006 @ 04:21 PM
A thin slice of cream and cherries and sugary pastry
All red and glistening and topped with luscious whipped cream...
I assure you, it's all very, very, very tasty.
Lovely bytes, syrupy sweet...yet tangy- such dualistic treats.
Like ghosts of your thoughts haunting the web...
Or spider legs in chocolate...
an incongruity I always studiously ignore...
Or that brittle snap of Lady Fingers betwixt my teeth...oh, my Lord...

(I must meditate's too much...)

Crumbly bits do stick to my chin, though, caught in rivulets of salivatory pleasure.
I gather them all up, as if they were treasure
line 'em up on a napkin, left to right and arrayed to their measure,
these remnant memorial treasures for me to nosh on with leisure.

All that should remain is an incriminating stain
And a most satisfying burp from such rich consumption. (excuse me)
Just as the loamy dark earth soaks in a warm summer rain
I'll lay back, relax, confident in my smiling presumption
That there's another slice somewhere, just like this, when I should be hungry again.

new topics

log in