Connected

[big baby]

if anybody thinks nyc is better than me at anything speak now

[Fig]

Originally Posted by BIG FUCKA BABY

if anybody thinks nyc is better than me at anything speak now

He's better at sucking

[Pent uP]

Originally Posted by Split

I WASN'T DRUNK BUT I WILL BE SOON, PENTUP

Originally Posted by oats

Haven't forgot. Will get back to this later.
@Pent uP have no fear

fearful

[oats]

DONT WORRY I GOT THIS

[theMuzzl3]

Originally Posted by big baby

if anybody thinks nyc is better than me at anything speak now

I'm trying so hard to be better at EGO.

Everybody is better than you at at LEAST one thing.


Quote from Tao Te Ching:
50
The Master gives himself up
to whatever the moment brings.
He knows that he is going to die,
and her has nothing left to hold on to:
no illusions in his mind,
no resistances in his body.
He doesn't think about his actions;
they flow from the core of his being.
He holds nothing back from life;
therefore he is ready for death,
as a man is ready for sleep
after a good day's work.

[Listen]

Hey,

Very well-written. Truth be told? It was just a very good piece....

Until -

For me, anyways, I read this:

"The rhetoric is old - one that everybody knows:
The further they're getting in their home, the more pressure on their souls. "

They say sometimes your "less-than-amazing" efforts may contain one of the most amazing tidbits in it. For me this was it.

Looking forward to reading some of your new stuff.

Good read.

[Split]

K let me take a shower first brah

[Split]

Def fed this before when it dropped, I remember the match. Will probably give better feed now though.

Originally Posted by Pent uP

[dis]Connected

Flickering hues lit all the room: their faces and walls.
They complacently call eachother names like 'babe' that evolved
throughout the years, loud and clear, from the faith they installed
escaping the faults that's made them elated, enthralled,
entangled and caught.

No complaints with the rhyme scheme or the flow. It really ebbed and flowed, almost like a Pancake verse but more structured. Thought your word choice was too aloof and developed faster than the opening of a verse should. However jumping right into the thick of things can be indicative of really inspired writing, and I just mean that it was like an avalanche of detail right off the bat.

They're so close - in separated realms.
Thumbs thumbing the screen - drum thumping machines messaging their friends.
No leverage to their heads: they're glued like Texans to their pelt -

Didn't like Texans to their pelt or separated realms. Both those ideas/ phrases are good, but the heavy line in-between made the rhyme seem like an afterthought, and "Texans to their pelt" is decidedly off-canter in comparison to the tightly-themed wording in the rest of the verse.

connected in themselves through a cybernetically embedded
skeleton and shell electrically developed between the screen and their eye.
He's feeling sublime, on the couch, reading the lies -
completely online with the The Onion, Wikimedia, Chive.
Their only hope is he notices when she stretches her cheeks in a smile.

"lies" was dumb, first two lines had fantastic delivery. Lot of pack to the punch. I like the last two lines a lot as well, bringing in your own tone.

'Fuzzies' are made from the seat to his side: she's on the love-seat adjacent.
By herself, trying to buy herself scrunchies and bracelets.
Munching on Lay chips - drowning their puppy's engagement
with the crunch that they're making. Neither drunk nor complacent,
just stuck in the stages between ready to squab and getting along.
A connection is lost - closest they come is petting the dog.

'puppy's engagement' forced. Drunk nor complacent, cool. LCD Soundsytem fan?

Like how you used the dog, symbolically.

Friends and their job are never questioned a lot
but scenarios of settling are apprehensively thought.
The consensus is not spoken of - consider it sacred -
Tablets zip-tying faces until lips are strung by the digital matrix.
Pixels equate with pleading the fifth in arraignments:
and their eyes are drawn with a hint of dumb blankness.

Their principles make it and the tribulations harder than war.
Locked in their corners - their bodies are corpses - this the modern rapport.
Said to be lovers but dead to eachother through hearts they adore:
they're starving for more on the ground obstacle floor.
As problems are formed they progress their connection to the glow -

Solid. No comments of note.

The rhetoric is old - one that everybody knows:
The further they're getting in their home, the more pressure on their souls.
Lessening control until everything goes to hell and it explodes.
Love assembled by the oafs - setting it in stone and ruining their hearts.
Visualized, digitized, minimized and consuming all the charge.
Brooding is an art that Photoshop embellished for the truly Avant-garde;
If any of this applies to you, you've been doomed right from the start.

Thought that the 'rhetoric is old' bit and the following two or three lines was a bit contrived, but this was otherwise a solid ending to a solid verse.


Commendable job of staying very focused for a lot of lines. The content was fresh throughout, and while I always prefer to read your newer stuff I get that each verse is a labor itself for you. Like the guy that rolls the best J he can, and nurses it as it gets passed around the room, tryna make sure that everyone gets good hits and that his roll job stays together. Crafted. Genuinely cares about what others think of his work, which is a great, underrated quality as a writer. The guy who does it for others, not just himself.

Great verse, Pent.

[oats]

all right all right, here I am. sorry I took so long yadda yadda, I'll get into it now.

Originally Posted by Pent uP

Flickering hues lit all the room: their faces and walls.
They complacently call eachother names like 'babe' that evolved
throughout the years, loud and clear, from the faith they installed
escaping the faults that's made them elated, enthralled,
entangled and caught. They're so close - in separated realms.
Thumbs thumbing the screen - drum thumping machines messaging their friends.
No leverage to their heads: they're glued like Texans to their pelt -
connected in themselves through a cybernetically embedded
skeleton and shell electrically developed between the screen and their eye.
He's feeling sublime, on the couch, reading the lies -
completely online with the The Onion, Wikimedia, Chive.
Their only hope is he notices when she stretches her cheeks in a smile.

this was a near-flawless section of writing, in my opinion. the rhyme schemes, how you switched up flow patterns, all of it rolled off effortlessly. This is exemplary of showing us a situation instead of falling back on exposition to make it coherent; I can't imagine anyone having difficulty figuring out what the story is about now, but you were coherent by using descriptive details. This is an enviable chunk of writing. The only hiccup for me was the Texans to their pelt line, didn't quite understand what that meant. Skeleton and shell was an excellent description, though.

Originally Posted by Pent uP

'Fuzzies' are made from the seat to his side: she's on the love-seat adjacent.
By herself, trying to buy herself scrunchies and bracelets.
Munching on Lay chips - drowning their puppy's engagement
with the crunch that they're making. Neither drunk nor complacent,
just stuck in the stages between ready to squab and getting along.
A connection is lost - closest they come is petting the dog.
Friends and their job are never questioned a lot
but scenarios of settling are apprehensively thought.
The consensus is not spoken of - consider it sacred -
Tablets zip-tying faces until lips are strung by the digital matrix.
Pixels equate with pleading the fifth in arraignments:
and their eyes are drawn with a hint of dumb blankness.

I didn't like the first half of this to be honest. It wasn't bad, really, just a noticeable drop off from the above section. But even as a standalone stanza, I thought there were some misfires. Before I extolled your use of details and lack of exposition, but here those details assumed that I knew their relationship a bit too much. I don't think that was a conscious decision by you, but it's how it came off to me. "Fuzzies are made" didn't hit home with any meaning for me, and was she trying to buy scrunchies and bracelets off the internet? I def understand the female mind for online shopping, but not for those kinds of items. Maybe I'm missing something.

Puppy's engagement and drunk nor complacent also struck me as a bit awkward. I pictured the crunching of chips to drown out a puppy humping one of their legs or something, and while I like the implications of contrasting drunkenness and complacency, the line didn't seem to fit with the character of the piece: that kind of line lends itself towards alcoholism/binge party drinking in my mind, whereas the humdrum scene you depicted called for something a bit more subtle and...adult? If that makes sense. Like sipping a craft beer or some wine or something. Obviously these are my associations that I'm reading the verse with, just saying.

I can't decide if I like the ready to squab line. It's a funny bit of wordplay, and it definitely works since my first read of it I immediately anchored an unrelated meaning to the word "squab." So yeah, I guess I like it, it's a skillful way to undermine language. But that bottom half was more excellence, peering into the world of fake/real relationships. They're behaving just like a normal couple, only they've never met (I'm assuming) in real life. It's half romantic, half pathetic, but really what relationship isn't, to some degree. I really love the parallels you present.

Originally Posted by Pent uP

Their principles make it and the tribulations harder than war.
Locked in their corners - their bodies are corpses - this the modern rapport.
Said to be lovers but dead to eachother through hearts they adore:
they're starving for more on the ground obstacle floor.
As problems are formed they progress their connection to the glow -
The rhetoric is old - one that everybody knows:
The further they're getting in their home, the more pressure on their souls.
Lessening control until everything goes to hell and it explodes.
Love assembled by the oafs - setting it in stone and ruining their hearts.
Visualized, digitized, minimized and consuming all the charge.
Brooding is an art that Photoshop embellished for the truly Avant-garde;
If any of this applies to you, you've been doomed right from the start.

I don't know what "their principles" are, but I love that couplet anyway. Bodies as corpses, in certain contexts will be undeniably cliche, but here it has a novel ring to it, just fits better. Harder than war seems a bit melodramatic, though. I like how you step back to survey the scene here, it allows you to freely explore the greater implications, even if in one line like the "pressure on their souls" line. That really seems to be the nexus of most online relationships; people are too old and too busy to meet someone in a conventional way. Didn't like the "hell and it explodes" rhyme, seemed like it was there just to carry the scheme.

I didn't like the way this piece ended. You spent so much time peering into the lives of these characters, and the end felt like a copout by turning the camera on the audience. I can see how, on a conceptual level, it might work, like a ZAP! THESE PEOPLE MIGHT BE YOU! kind of thing. But even then, not my cup of tea, and regardless I don't think it was executed well enough to be successful at that gambit either. How I feel - and keep in mind, every interpretation I make comes with the caveat that I could have completely misread it - is that this was trying to squeeze in that technology metaphor a bit too hard, instead of letting it organically take shape through the online interaction/development of their relationship. You did well to make me care about their situation - so well, in fact, that I'm a little annoyed that you left me in the cold and brought me into the picture instead of giving me a final glimpse. I can't help but think that this could be DOPE if you panned out with some kind of implicit piece of dialogue. I'm thinking how Steinbeck would finish the emotional crescendos with some trivial comment like "what the hell was that?" I don't know.

Overall, this was a superb piece of writing for about 2/3-3/4, the remainder being good but not great. As you can probably tell, my biggest gripe is the ending. Dope shit, and sincere apologies that I took so long to get to this. I'm a distracted motherfucker.