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Post by vulture on Jan 23, 2015 18:43:11 GMT -6
Quiet. I said, quiet please. The Mad Hatter is about to make his grand entrance and grace us with his presence. But, you must be absolutely quiet, I say. He prefers nothing so much as the sound of his own sonorous voice, you see.
And never ever deny him a drink he'll threaten to leave, posthaste. What a waste of a brilliant mind. If the poison in his hat doesn't kill him his pickled heart will. His pickled heart will.
One drink to much and the other one shows up. The Madder Hatter than the Mad Hatter. One drink more than to much and the other one shows up- the Maddest Hatter of them all.
There isn't enough air in the room when all three of them start chattering and chiming in with their vaunted opinions. The Mad Hatter hears voices when he drinks to much. And I am helpless to pull him back from the brink. I must simply be patient and wait for all three of them to fall asleep.
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Post by vulture on Mar 13, 2015 21:28:41 GMT -6
To scary? LoL
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Post by phantasm on Mar 16, 2015 18:50:50 GMT -6
Not really.
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Post by vulture on Apr 25, 2015 23:15:09 GMT -6
Good to know.
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Post by phantasm on Apr 28, 2015 18:49:16 GMT -6
It's a rhythmical pattern, I can kinda sorta feel a drumbeat pulsing through this thing.
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Post by vulture on May 10, 2015 21:36:12 GMT -6
A piece loaded with abstract symbolism needs a beat to ground it in the present moment for the reader. You heard that here, first. Haha.
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