FMFYs blogg

Du behöver bara gå till skolan.
Din lycka beror väl på samma resultat av en neutronkänslig atomisk framkallning av simulerade mytade cybernetiska pixlar.
Vinden är en enda sak av många som en maskin inte kan avnjuta. Eller?
Kall hård stål är som en fjäder emot den öppna skyn, drömmar flöder i floden med bara fåtal ängar att räkna på.
Gestar bleknar bort med rostiga nycklar för att öppna din port.
Jag skulle inte sticka in fingret i öppningen om jag inte kunde låta bli.
Varför ska jag alltid fråga varför? Varför, varför, varför?
Det skulle kunnat vara simplare att bara kolla på tangentbordet och skriva bort en storm.
Ekvationen lyder:
Trianglar är tre, Livet är tre, jag står bara ut med tre, tre är lika med tre, två är mindre än tre, 4 – 1 = 3, Jag vaknar tre gånger innan jag somnar, tre är magin så jag nyser och domnar, tre är andetagen innan jag dör, tre är små toner som sjunger i kör, tre är en cliché född från 42, tre är en stereotyp ur hennes ögon blå, tre är fåglar som flyger i skyn, tre är små fåglar som dör vid gryn.
Om bara en kan vara född för att avnjuta födseln, då kan väl två mer avnjuta dödens bortgång.
Åldrar av slit i en lönlös försök att nå himlar blå, ombyten byter ingenting i guds ögon.
Vem kommer du bli när du blir en maskin, vem kommer kyssa dig när du har inga läppar.
Varför dör vi när vi hänger från träd, Varför faller tårar när näsan blöder?

Försök inte lugna mig, din skönhet är majestätisk.

Oh, btw, allt jag skriver här i bloggen har jag kommit på själv.
Om inte jag säger annat.

You just need to go to school
Your happiness depends of the same result of a neutronical atomic conjuration of simulithical mytchical cyber pixels.
The wind is only one thing upon many that a machine cannot enjoy. Or can it?
Cold hard steel is like afeather on the open sky. Dreams flood the rivers with only a few meadows to count upon.
Gestures fade away with the rusty keys to your open gate.
I wouldnt stick my finger in that gap if i could help myself.
Why do i always question? Why, why, why.
It would just be simpler to look at the keyboard and write away a storm.
Triangles are three, life is three, i can only stand three, three equals three, less than three, 4 – 1 = 3, three times i wake before i fall asleep, three is the magic that makes me sneeze, three are the breaths before i die, three is a stereotype born from 42, three is a cliché that entrances my tongue, three are the birds that fly in the sky.
If only one can be born to enjoy the birth, then two more can enjoy the death of decease.
Ages of work in a futile etempt to reach blue skies, Changes change nothing in the eyes of god.
Who will you be when you become a machine, Who will kiss you when you have no lips.
Why do we die when we hang from a tree, Why do we cry when our noses bleed.

Dont try and calm me, your beauty is majestic.

Sometimes I just want to be the low-cut, tshirt - jeans kind of guy.
Sometimes I just want to be the hero in the story of our lives.
Sometimes I just want to be the wooden piece that breaks your Jenga tower.

What? Am I supposed to be the one to sink into simulation without the sound of seperation?
I wish i was the one that recieved the correct coronation by the precious peaceful pixel.

Why must we grow older? Sinking six feet in a sunken ship is simply seductive to a suite.
Bubbles of desperate breath abandon my precious lips. My sweet soul cannot swim. Sorry.

Hoping for gasps of air is harder when strapped to the bottom of a meadow.
Stars and light is all i can see. Never has my presence been this peaceful.
I lie there beneath the curious, asking the Owls why they are trying to say.
They are always questioning my name. Sometimes i question my cause.

Depth is so out of character. Apreciated by few. Dont expect me to smell your shit.

Round and round i trip my dreams into a pit of dirty genes.
Death, doom and fog in the dreaded pit a bubbling bog.
Flies and maggots, jews and faggots. What a hell of a messy night.
Dont mind me though, i slit slits with a 4 inch cock.
Which is more than i can say for my chinky mate.
So where did all the rhyming go of late?
Zombies dont have 1up on me bitch. Ill fuck that fucker with a titanium tire iron.
Kinky kinks in a shit split realtionship are the reason that ship is sinking.
And the crabs you gave me didnt really help either, thank you very much.
Get off my back before I get behind yours.

Rhyming poems are for poets you fucking hypocrit.
Get fucked, ace grades, be liked. Is what that ugly fucker over there told me.

i dont know how you feel, but im not the kind of guy who kisses and tells
that girl told me not to walk around the garden and so i listened and stayed.
Ill keep my trousers on though, Unless you ask politely. Too bad your too shy for that.

Well kiss and tell if you must. See how much i care
I cant care. im not in that kind of place where desertion would leave me deserted.
But ill shed a tear if itll make you feel good.

Im not that shabby, my hands are swift. Too bad your allergic to magic.
Im not coming home tonight. Your bed will do just fine for me
Dont trust the magic, it has a mind of its own.

Love, Trust, beauty.
Hate, betrayel, words.
Are just three things on your mind

I cant stand the way that people look.

There apearence isnt an issue. Just the way they look. The way they see.

Wouldnt i be easier if life could be seen in a glass cylinder.

I wonder if the answers would be seethrough then.

Sometimes time passes like a Loading screen. Slow and irritating.

My life would be alot less cruel if it was made in macromedia flash. At least then the
edges would be smoother.

I cant stand the smell of a headache. It gives me too much deja vu.


You wrote a song for me yesterday. Too bad i wasnt listening. Anyway...

I wonder if this place is relevant to your interests. If not. Fuck you.

Dont love everyone. Because then everyone will love you. How much can you know about
yourself if you have never lived inside a computer.

Have you ever tried to touch a screen, missed and got lost in cyber-space.

Space in swedish can be translated to tomrum. Which practically means empty-space.

I think people are forgetting the meaning of Space. Its not a dark place with alot of white
spots. Its just space. Its black because there is no light. And its got white spots because
thats where the light is. Too bad you will never reach it.


My Callender stops at 2012. Isnt that stereotypical. Well dont cry for me argentina, i dont
give a fuck about you.

"Why cant i see you? You took me to a place that wasnt safe for me and you. We saw the milkyway
at night, we put up a fight, with me. Now we're leaving. What happened to the monday nights
we would fall asleep at 3. Do you think we could be a saint, i think im insane.
My brain is telling me im a Machine. Machine, Machine, Machine.
My friends got a forty with his fifty on. Said the worlds gunna end but i think hes wrong."

Why do i care about quotation? Somebodys said what im saying before. And better.

Life doesnt carry you around. You carry life around. So pull up your socks and treck through
the garden.

Your life is a Machine.

Populär / Rövhål. Same difference.