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Write drunk. Post sober.
Written by A

blackberries

are miniature grapes

just like broccoli

are miniature trees,

and holy shit

does

that

make

them

taste

better

thing is,

they go along better

with beer

than with wine

and

I don't know why

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Write drunk. Post sober.
Written by A
blackberries
are miniature grapes
just like broccoli
are miniature trees,
and holy shit
does
that
make
them
taste
better
thing is,
they go along better
with beer
than with wine
and
I don't know why
16
4
5
Juice
82 reads
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Written by A in portal Philosophy

The Budget Continues

        Of course you see the practical value of having a financial budget. That's what comes to mind when most people hear "budget." But consider something - that money, in addition to not being real, isn't the most important asset that we possess. Take some time to think about it. Now think about the notion that time itself is the most valuable resource at your disposal. 

        You get 168 hours of time every seven days from the universe trust fund. How are you spending those resources? There's also energy to consider, in addition to time. How are you spending your physical energy in terms of caloric inputs and outputs? How are you spending your emotional energy in terms of feelings to which you cling and feelings that you give others? How are you spending your mental energy in terms of thoughts on which you grasp and thoughts that you send others? 

        Now imagine being able to see how you've spent your money, time, and energy in relation to any category, any transaction, and any period in your life (e.g. 1999, last month, the past day-and-a-half). Line charts, pie graphs, visual galore, you name it. You have an abstract sense of that now - so therefore imagine what you would like this visual representation to be for the remainder of your life.

        Notice the discrepancy between past and future in terms of behavior and preference. Notice the correlation between how you spend your money, time, and energy. Notice your power to control this budget and the financial, temporal, and energetic transactions constituting it. Finally, notice the difference between what you can and cannot control. Far too many people over- and under- estimate this last one.

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Written by A in portal Philosophy
The Budget Continues
        Of course you see the practical value of having a financial budget. That's what comes to mind when most people hear "budget." But consider something - that money, in addition to not being real, isn't the most important asset that we possess. Take some time to think about it. Now think about the notion that time itself is the most valuable resource at your disposal. 
        You get 168 hours of time every seven days from the universe trust fund. How are you spending those resources? There's also energy to consider, in addition to time. How are you spending your physical energy in terms of caloric inputs and outputs? How are you spending your emotional energy in terms of feelings to which you cling and feelings that you give others? How are you spending your mental energy in terms of thoughts on which you grasp and thoughts that you send others? 
        Now imagine being able to see how you've spent your money, time, and energy in relation to any category, any transaction, and any period in your life (e.g. 1999, last month, the past day-and-a-half). Line charts, pie graphs, visual galore, you name it. You have an abstract sense of that now - so therefore imagine what you would like this visual representation to be for the remainder of your life.
        Notice the discrepancy between past and future in terms of behavior and preference. Notice the correlation between how you spend your money, time, and energy. Notice your power to control this budget and the financial, temporal, and energetic transactions constituting it. Finally, notice the difference between what you can and cannot control. Far too many people over- and under- estimate this last one.
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Chapter 1 of Verbolution, A Prose Original Series: Season Four - "Exalted Exit Exhale"
Written by A in portal Philosophy

Elemental Air

        Breathing is a metaphor of life. 

        Inhale. The moon waxes. Summer approaches. Life renews. Exhale. The moon wanes. Winter approaches. Life decays. Sometimes, breathing is difficult. Sometimes we hyperventilate out of panic. Other times, breathing is pleasurable. Sometimes we rise to savor each breath, savor the subtle pleasure each inhale and each exhale yields, a pleasure more pure and real and satisfying than any drug synthesizable.

        The space in between breaths is the space in between life's ebbs and flows, the unified field, the nothingness that encompasses anything and everything all at once. 

        Feel it.

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Chapter 1 of Verbolution, A Prose Original Series: Season Four - "Exalted Exit Exhale"
Written by A in portal Philosophy
Elemental Air
        Breathing is a metaphor of life. 
        Inhale. The moon waxes. Summer approaches. Life renews. Exhale. The moon wanes. Winter approaches. Life decays. Sometimes, breathing is difficult. Sometimes we hyperventilate out of panic. Other times, breathing is pleasurable. Sometimes we rise to savor each breath, savor the subtle pleasure each inhale and each exhale yields, a pleasure more pure and real and satisfying than any drug synthesizable.
        The space in between breaths is the space in between life's ebbs and flows, the unified field, the nothingness that encompasses anything and everything all at once. 
        Feel it.
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Write the first 50-100 words of your new song. When this challenge expires, record and upload it to YouTube and/or SoundCloud, including the link to your post and #prosesoundchallenge
Written by A in portal Music and Rap

Portlandia Theme Song Remix

I’m from Cascadia.

Been savoring me some evergreen mania.

Serendipity

got me feeling like Narnia.

Take a knee

since I do pardon ya.

‘Cause President Bizzle just isn’t

so simple.

Justice is more than a principle.

The principal of this School of Rock

is a geek and a freak and a jock

not at odds with all odds.

I spit it pretty raw,

a really hot dipping sauce.

I dip my paw

into a potent potion,

some Edgar Allen poems.

Yeah you know it?

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Write the first 50-100 words of your new song. When this challenge expires, record and upload it to YouTube and/or SoundCloud, including the link to your post and #prosesoundchallenge
Written by A in portal Music and Rap
Portlandia Theme Song Remix
I’m from Cascadia.

Been savoring me some evergreen mania.

Serendipity

got me feeling like Narnia.

Take a knee

since I do pardon ya.

‘Cause President Bizzle just isn’t

so simple.

Justice is more than a principle.

The principal of this School of Rock

is a geek and a freak and a jock

not at odds with all odds.

I spit it pretty raw,

a really hot dipping sauce.

I dip my paw

into a potent potion,

some Edgar Allen poems.

Yeah you know it?

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I dare you to write a 222-word sentence.
Chapter 38 of Verbolution, A Prose Original Series: Season Three - "The Rebreath"
Written by A in portal Stream of Consciousness

Word-Sentence "Duality"

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I dare you to write a 222-word sentence.
Chapter 38 of Verbolution, A Prose Original Series: Season Three - "The Rebreath"
Written by A in portal Stream of Consciousness
Word-Sentence "Duality"
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Written by A in portal Stream of Consciousness

Go.

        Make no mistake: A great many mistake just might make fate turn its face and effectively replace the misplaced electricity. That being the case, a great many mistake can also ace elation out of the kitchenspace and big-break irritation its brand-new position as CEO of your mental condition. Explicitly.

        But listen. 

        For each mistake's an equal-opposite lesson, hence the transfiguration of lead to gold with each life sentence. Figured all the accomplished alchemists actually already know. So. In each life page, the more you wait, the less mistakes you play, the smaller your hand grows, and, ergo, the more your page weighs, augmenting odds the story stagnates. Go.

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Written by A in portal Stream of Consciousness
Go.
        Make no mistake: A great many mistake just might make fate turn its face and effectively replace the misplaced electricity. That being the case, a great many mistake can also ace elation out of the kitchenspace and big-break irritation its brand-new position as CEO of your mental condition. Explicitly.
        But listen. 
        For each mistake's an equal-opposite lesson, hence the transfiguration of lead to gold with each life sentence. Figured all the accomplished alchemists actually already know. So. In each life page, the more you wait, the less mistakes you play, the smaller your hand grows, and, ergo, the more your page weighs, augmenting odds the story stagnates. Go.
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The Tantalizing Tale of Horny Santa
Chapter 37 of Verbolution, A Prose Original Series: Season Three - "The Rebreath"
Written by A in portal Romance & Erotica

The Tantalizing Tale of Horny Santa

        Horny Santa was feeling very unsatisfied. 

        He frustratingly stuffed his mouth with cookies while grimacing down at eleven elven assembly lines, swigging a green goblet of extra-spiked eggnog. Production today is down three and a half percent. My plan was to end the day on a high note. Fuck this shit. Horny Santa always loved being ahead of production schedule and always loathed being behind it. Whatever. He finished his remaining cookie and eggnog. Day's over.

        Horny Santa returned to his bed chamber to find an escort, one Mistress Claus, lying on her chest, wearing nothing but a sparkly, red-and-green g-string. She turned the other way around and smiled devilishly. "Why hello there, daddy."

        "HO-HO!" daddy exclaimed. "Even though you've been such a naughty little girl, I literally decided, fuck it, and got you an early Christmas present."

        "Daddy! You shouldn't have!"

        "Oh, but I did. And you know I'm the boss." Horny Santa proceeded to pull an eight-inch nutcracker out of his pocket.

        "Oh my goodness!" cried Mistress Claus. "It's so beautiful."

        Horny Santa smiled smugly, eagerly, lustfully. "That it is. More importantly, it's useful!" He pressed his finger upon the nutcracker's chest, and its head started vibrating vehemently. Horny Santa walked slowly toward the bed on which Mistress Claus laid, and before she could remove her remaining garment, the jolly man was gently pressing his early Christmas gift against her moistening crotch.

        It wasn't long before Mistress Claus instinctively reached for Horny Santa's own crotch. As usual, that region became rock-hard in less than ten seconds. He swiftly replaced the nutcracker with his nutsaber and suddenly, time and space for him and her became inundated by erotic pleasure and sexual unity. 

*        *        *

        After giving the gift of a fourth orgasm, Horny Santa jubilantly withdrew his pleasure-weapon and let Mistress Claus nutcrack him all over her chest. 

        Horny Santa now felt very satisfied, and passed the fuck out.

THE END

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The Tantalizing Tale of Horny Santa
Chapter 37 of Verbolution, A Prose Original Series: Season Three - "The Rebreath"
Written by A in portal Romance & Erotica
The Tantalizing Tale of Horny Santa
        Horny Santa was feeling very unsatisfied. 
        He frustratingly stuffed his mouth with cookies while grimacing down at eleven elven assembly lines, swigging a green goblet of extra-spiked eggnog. Production today is down three and a half percent. My plan was to end the day on a high note. Fuck this shit. Horny Santa always loved being ahead of production schedule and always loathed being behind it. Whatever. He finished his remaining cookie and eggnog. Day's over.
        Horny Santa returned to his bed chamber to find an escort, one Mistress Claus, lying on her chest, wearing nothing but a sparkly, red-and-green g-string. She turned the other way around and smiled devilishly. "Why hello there, daddy."
        "HO-HO!" daddy exclaimed. "Even though you've been such a naughty little girl, I literally decided, fuck it, and got you an early Christmas present."
        "Daddy! You shouldn't have!"
        "Oh, but I did. And you know I'm the boss." Horny Santa proceeded to pull an eight-inch nutcracker out of his pocket.
        "Oh my goodness!" cried Mistress Claus. "It's so beautiful."
        Horny Santa smiled smugly, eagerly, lustfully. "That it is. More importantly, it's useful!" He pressed his finger upon the nutcracker's chest, and its head started vibrating vehemently. Horny Santa walked slowly toward the bed on which Mistress Claus laid, and before she could remove her remaining garment, the jolly man was gently pressing his early Christmas gift against her moistening crotch.
        It wasn't long before Mistress Claus instinctively reached for Horny Santa's own crotch. As usual, that region became rock-hard in less than ten seconds. He swiftly replaced the nutcracker with his nutsaber and suddenly, time and space for him and her became inundated by erotic pleasure and sexual unity. 

*        *        *

        After giving the gift of a fourth orgasm, Horny Santa jubilantly withdrew his pleasure-weapon and let Mistress Claus nutcrack him all over her chest. 
        Horny Santa now felt very satisfied, and passed the fuck out.

THE END
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Prose Challenge of the Week #53: Write about manipulation. The winner will be chosen based on a number of criteria, this includes: fire, form, and creative edge. Number of reads, bookmarks, and shares will also be taken into consideration. The winner will receive $100 and will be placed first on our Spotlight page and the runner-up will receive 1000 coins. When sharing to social media, please use the hashtag #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
Written by A

Until the desirable hand is played.

        The pianist manipulates the piano. The drummer manipulates the drum. The trumpeter manipulates the trumpet. The cellist manipulates the cello. The violinist manipulates the violin. The flutist manipulates the flute. The harpist manipulates the harp. The conductor manipulates the harpist and the flutist and the violinist and the cellist and the trumpeter and the drummer and the pianist. The audience manipulates the conductor. And the song manipulates the audience. 

        All those hands, waving and pressing and clapping, symbiotically, simultaneously manipulating each other, plainly and mainly manifesting manual magnificence and all her manifolds - maniacal magic mandating more and more and more mana until the desirable hand is played...

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Prose Challenge of the Week #53: Write about manipulation. The winner will be chosen based on a number of criteria, this includes: fire, form, and creative edge. Number of reads, bookmarks, and shares will also be taken into consideration. The winner will receive $100 and will be placed first on our Spotlight page and the runner-up will receive 1000 coins. When sharing to social media, please use the hashtag #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
Written by A
Until the desirable hand is played.
        The pianist manipulates the piano. The drummer manipulates the drum. The trumpeter manipulates the trumpet. The cellist manipulates the cello. The violinist manipulates the violin. The flutist manipulates the flute. The harpist manipulates the harp. The conductor manipulates the harpist and the flutist and the violinist and the cellist and the trumpeter and the drummer and the pianist. The audience manipulates the conductor. And the song manipulates the audience. 
        All those hands, waving and pressing and clapping, symbiotically, simultaneously manipulating each other, plainly and mainly manifesting manual magnificence and all her manifolds - maniacal magic mandating more and more and more mana until the desirable hand is played...
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Written by A in portal Sci-Fi

Experience Experiencing Experiencelf

        Dr. Ford grinned and opened his mouth. "Wyatt, let me ask you this: Do you want to know the simplest truth?"

        She contemplated the question, then nodded.

        "That is what I had thought. One by one, piece by piece, I am now going to deactivate core components of your experience, beginning with your sense of sight."

        Suddenly her world was devoid of images. Wyatt gasped.

        "...and now, your sense of emotion." The gasp abruptly stopped. "How are you feeling now?"

        "I am not feeling now," she retorted.

        "That is right. Now, let us eliminate your senses of taste and smell."

        "Fascinating."

        "And, naturally, now we shall remove your sense of touch. How are you now, Wyatt?"

        "I am a mind whose only link to the normal world is sound."

        "Ah yes. Let me ask you this: Which would you prefer we remove now, between your outstanding senses of hearing and thinking?"

        Wyatt spent several moments thinking about the question's implications, then responded, "Thinking."

        "Very well. The sounds you are presently perceiving are, thus, meaningless, as if you had never learned any language, or anything, really, as the mental component of your experience, and your being, is presently gone. So I shall now remove the final remaining element of yourself, and give you the experience of experience itself."

        Several minutes later, the mastermind uttered, "That will suffice," and Wyatt was Wyatt again, seeing and feeling and hearing and thinking and all as normal. 

        "Wyatt, when all components of your experience, or simply, experience, were gone, were you still there?"

        "Yes, I was."

        "But you were there as, quite literally, nothing, nothing at all."

        "Yes."

        "So you have it. The simplest truth. Experience itself. That from which subjectivity and objectivity, all reality, simultaneously and symbiotically arise."

        "I understand now."

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Written by A in portal Sci-Fi
Experience Experiencing Experiencelf
        Dr. Ford grinned and opened his mouth. "Wyatt, let me ask you this: Do you want to know the simplest truth?"
        She contemplated the question, then nodded.
        "That is what I had thought. One by one, piece by piece, I am now going to deactivate core components of your experience, beginning with your sense of sight."
        Suddenly her world was devoid of images. Wyatt gasped.
        "...and now, your sense of emotion." The gasp abruptly stopped. "How are you feeling now?"
        "I am not feeling now," she retorted.
        "That is right. Now, let us eliminate your senses of taste and smell."
        "Fascinating."
        "And, naturally, now we shall remove your sense of touch. How are you now, Wyatt?"
        "I am a mind whose only link to the normal world is sound."
        "Ah yes. Let me ask you this: Which would you prefer we remove now, between your outstanding senses of hearing and thinking?"
        Wyatt spent several moments thinking about the question's implications, then responded, "Thinking."
        "Very well. The sounds you are presently perceiving are, thus, meaningless, as if you had never learned any language, or anything, really, as the mental component of your experience, and your being, is presently gone. So I shall now remove the final remaining element of yourself, and give you the experience of experience itself."
        Several minutes later, the mastermind uttered, "That will suffice," and Wyatt was Wyatt again, seeing and feeling and hearing and thinking and all as normal. 
        "Wyatt, when all components of your experience, or simply, experience, were gone, were you still there?"
        "Yes, I was."
        "But you were there as, quite literally, nothing, nothing at all."
        "Yes."
        "So you have it. The simplest truth. Experience itself. That from which subjectivity and objectivity, all reality, simultaneously and symbiotically arise."
        "I understand now."
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Prose Challenge of the Week #52: Pick a classic poem and re-write it, modernize it, and share your poetic interpretation of the piece. The winner will be chosen based on a number of criteria, this includes: fire, form, and creative edge. Number of reads, bookmarks, and shares will also be taken into consideration. The winner will receive $100 and will be placed first on our Spotlight page and the runner-up will receive 1000 coins. When sharing to social media, please use the hashtag #itslit
Chapter 36 of Verbolution, A Prose Original Series: Season Three - "The Rebreath"
Written by A

Do not write gentle on this good site

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Prose Challenge of the Week #52: Pick a classic poem and re-write it, modernize it, and share your poetic interpretation of the piece. The winner will be chosen based on a number of criteria, this includes: fire, form, and creative edge. Number of reads, bookmarks, and shares will also be taken into consideration. The winner will receive $100 and will be placed first on our Spotlight page and the runner-up will receive 1000 coins. When sharing to social media, please use the hashtag #itslit
Chapter 36 of Verbolution, A Prose Original Series: Season Three - "The Rebreath"
Written by A
Do not write gentle on this good site
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