Fig and Zen wrote this and it's real cool and stuff.
 

Living on the outside. Conscious of you.
A performance for devout eyes that costs you the view.

Crying and blind like I'm dying inside. I'm like a lie; I'm a rind. A shell of a man, who cried like a conche when you blew.

So let the con chest protrude. The common object is views. Is it enough to say my house of mirrors is product of truth? I'm caught up in clues. Klonopin colada abused. clock constantly accosts while this karma accrues.

Got my heart in a noose, chokehold. Use my arm to get loose, but it's so cold. Gasps squeak softly, that harmonious tune explains the martyrs use. Go home.

I awake in cold sweats scratching my throat with a blade in my own grip. Savage at soul. Jack on the floor. Madness controlled. My mirror hates me. It collapsed and broke and shattered. My toes bleeding from glass shards, hasn't this happened before? Punched everything and then thrashed some more. Smoking weed and gasp hard. Threw my trash on the porch. Shit, I'm high now writing this tied to a mirror. No paper. No lines. My mind just types this using my eyes as a printer. Pain inside supplies the rhymes. *Enter*

I strain to divine the warm light that's stationed inside;
encased in the mind, but forsakend with tastes from the pipe.
so vacant and blight. these rations of contaminant sipped..
shaded yet shined. commanded to abandon the ship.
Stagnant, inanimate man akin to mannequins when,
a glass casket gets a grip upon the canvas within.
It's dated and signed. I'm adamant I'll take it in time.
Parading through lifes lanes while in no state to drive

So, Jesus take the wheeeeeeell!! Carrie's my babe on the side so I make her carry my underwear til she starts pacing, crying and screaming, "Baby, why!?!? I'm leaving!!"

"K, bye!"

Hatred's alive, and its winning. A sinner sinning wasted on life. Wasted life from the beginning. Drugs saved me, right? Waiting to end this. How much does it take to die? So emo, so evil. Unable to face the light because I hate it inside. I hate happiness. It seems fake, compliant. Rather be angry and violent plunging blades in your eyelids...I mean fuck, what was I saying? I lost my page. Oh, right, if love's a game who wins? Who loses? It takes two to play and I've tried but, shit, I hate some ties.

Sometimes I'm jealous of those who thrive in a cage. Wish I could sit idle while my life slips away. Update my Facebook for my need of praise. Instagram my selfie, #smilieface:). Watch me. Love me. You guys are great! Listen to beats by Dre while I see whose liked my page.

The pessimist in me hates that, but that makes me seem like a hipster. "Oh, you don't like it? Wow, go figure." Everybody's a know it all now on Twitter. Remember when times were so simpler?

Be out all light.

Come home for dinner.

These memories cloud my mind. I think they're over, finished....Until I think it over, then I'm back in the moment living it. I still remember when I first met Sarah, we were only children. I even remember when Dad was home for Christmas. Ok, I've had it. It's over, end this.

It's hard to accept death. It's even harder to accept life. We neglect living because we're dead inside. Walk around dreaming. Think we're so clever. No pleasure for the pest with mind. Nature's blunder. The deceptive kind. We warp our memories to fit our image of who we are. We're all legends inside. Look around for meaning with desperate eyes. We'll sleep when we're dead because rest is a vice. Stick lead in our spine to get through to our thick heads that we're dying.

Under pressure, we watch forever unwind. Together, we're fine watching the weather. Oh, my. We're looking at the sun set red in the sky as it let in the night. We touched hands, and let out a sigh. Her hair laid down on her eyes as we kissed in the sand.

But all I keep wondering is why am I remembering her again?

holy fuck @ centering feed

oh dear

who wrote what?

you guys are mysterious.

will feed (no split)

This was most pleasant. And though I know it was intended to be this way, the way you simply put your raw thoughts without any connotation felt a bit idle. At times you did, but they were for showmanship, rather than the actual adding of layer to the substance at hand. Don't get me wrong this was well written, but had a missing element of introspection. Converting the raw thoughts/ experiences into what all of this means to you. Rather than just portraying the reactions, the byproducts, you can also explore the vastness of what creates them. This is an internally derived piece written from feeling, yet where and why is this feeling recreated. Why does it continue to emerge, and from where does it submerge to. This are simply crude explanations of mine, but in truth what I mean to say is it did not have the contemplation that reflected your awareness. Rather it was just writings on the external stimuli effect on the internal state that man's contains within, and how it becomes riled up. This was obviously meant to be a piece that portrays "realness". But realness at times has an element of fabrication that lies at the heart of he who crafts it. The perception is well reflected, but not the seer. Though there are hints and glimpses of him, and he appears chaotic and emotional. Which is a major theme of this, which is quite good. But an exploration of the reason for the mania, or a deeper analysis of it through a metaphorical ambiance will certainly deepen the piece.

Anyways, my favorite part was this

I strain to divine the warm light that's stationed inside;
encased in the mind, but forsakend with tastes from the pipe.
so vacant and blight. these rations of contaminant sipped..
shaded yet shined. commanded to abandon the ship.
Stagnant, inanimate man akin to mannequins when,
a glass casket gets a grip upon the canvas within.

Another fine piece @Zen you really capture the essence, its like an aura highlights your work Damn!! Word word perfected by choice, the multiple rhythmic pattern is exquisitely structured,

sick.
highly entertained.
humor mixed in with some emo and general insights on life.
authentic.
good rhythm.
you need to lighten up a bit.. actually no wait, don't, not if it would stop you from writing stuff like this.
HOF nom. (not joking)

It's hard to accept death. It's even harder to accept life. We neglect living because we're dead inside. Walk around dreaming. Think we're so clever. No pleasure for the pest with mind. Nature's blunder. The deceptive kind. We warp our memories to fit our image of who we are. We're all legends inside. Look around for meaning with desperate eyes. We'll sleep when we're dead because rest is a vice. Stick lead in our spine to get through to our thick heads that we're dying.

this is pretty much the summary of the whole thing and was the brightest spot for me. so emo lol.

Sometimes I'm jealous of those who thrive in a cage. Wish I could sit idle while my life slips away. Update my Facebook for my need of praise. Instagram my selfie, #smilieface:). Watch me. Love me. You guys are great! Listen to beats by Dre while I see whose liked my page.

this was pretty cool to cage is pretty cool metaphor for instagram and all of that, word.
the way you kind of wrote this took the tone of someone thinking out loud about all these emotions from remembering the ex which is pretty cool, not many people can get into that mindframe and project it onto paper. Nice Job you two.

RTF - http://netcees.co/showthread.php?t=87231

This was pretty cool. I liked the insight on alot. Instagram stood out,a nd a few other bits as well. You guys work well off each other but i'll annihilate you both so stay in your fucking lane.

jk

good job, will return more singular feed, later.