( z+ ) threads contain the following commonalities,
– they tend to be funny
– they tend to be creative
– they have no inherent value other than to share something creative
so, if you want to post something random, like a picture, a limerick, short story, essay, intriguing observation,
please do so below, and join the pointlessness of ( z+ ) conversations
@tine Hmmmmm okay.
She came into the house screaming, blood was splattered all over her little white dress. Her face was burnt with mortality, her eyes were stained with fear. She collapsed at my feet, cursing every godly being in existence, pulling on my shirt, pulling at my soul trying to pull me close. I looked down and smiled, cupped her pale angelic face, caressed her soft blood spattered cheeks. I bent down to capture her eyes, to dig them out of their home, she knew what she was evoking, she knew the time has come.
She whimpered, clutching at my hands, scratching at my wrists. She cried, “my love, my love, what have they done.” I smiled bigger, the black hole in my chest pounded faster. Unfurling itself, the creature was calling, the blood absorbed was bringing it solace. The blood from the massacre sunk in deeper. Fusing itself with mine, fusing itself with something far from divine.
babeblebubaahbiiaqaaaithinkyourpictureisa planet crashingnon another planet with a s,miley faceeeesnfi;sbf;usekbhvfipaejcpose, 2 cents donated
The walls started boiling, the atoms started screaming. My love screeched in terror, anticipating what was whispering back, praying the thing she had beckoned would pity her reasoning, would allow her life to be spared. I sighed; I knew no matter how much she pathetically pleaded, the darkness would consume her light, consume her soul, consume the very essence that keeps her alive. My love understood, she understood what I could do. She understood the fate she gambled, she understood he was near.
I smiled, I smiled so deep. I kissed her warm cheeks, licked away her salty tears. Inhaling her smell deeper, inhaling her life away, inhaling her last breath, basking in the ecstasy of her sweet touch. She choked, falling deeper into my embrace. The atmosphere was vibrating, the creature was awake. In the distance he was laughing. I knew the time has come.
The chasm grew deeper, the darkness grew louder. Trickling down off her body, the blood pooled with power, the hole within me grew stronger, warping my soul into the sinner. Shimmering I fell, into the hole of my world. Into the plain where he awaited, into the universe I had created.
And there he sat, breathing in the last of her love, tossing her drained body back to the place where her pathetic existence remained. There he towered, there he laughed, there he was awaiting for my command. He knew what I wanted, he knew I couldn’t resist. “It’s time, Anamchara, it’s time to release this bliss.” I giggled, I laughed, with a stern gaze at the world around me, at the shadows that giggled in unison. At the creatures cawing, at the creatures tempting me to set them free, to the creatures who rocked in hyper clarity. To send them back to my world, to purge it all of idiotic blind hope, its what these creatures desired. They desired to be free, waiting for their master to bless them with this remedy. The remedy to purge, with the strength of him. With the power of me. It was time, it was time to bless them free.
What’s the difference between a goat?
Nor can it ride a bike.
Two elephants were flying across the ocean.
One of them said to the other: “Hey watch out you have a croissant in your eye!”
The other one replied: “I can’t hear you, I have a croissant in my eye.”
Hälge the elk was sitting in a tree with his pal. A submarine landed in another tree nearby.
Hälge said: “He probably lives there.”
Do you like DnB?
Are you into Swedish House?
Do you have a thing for complextro/electro house?
Maybe a bit more basic progressive house?
Perhaps melodic dubsteppy tunes strike your fancy?
Or are you more of a bagpipes person?
Just some noise I made to get to know my vst plugins a bit better.
I remember it like it was yesterday…
The atmosphere around the kitchen table never felt so tense.
It was unlike most nights.
Most nights we would talk. Most nights we would have fun.
The restlessness in my fathers eyes and the grind in his voice was enough to let us know something was wrong.
I looked at my mother as she walked in the room.
She looked back. I looked away. She sat down.
As we began to eat, a scratching was heard. It grew louder.
My sister got up to find where it was coming from.
She couldn’t find it.
My dad found it. It coming from behind a painting in the dining room.
He got up, put his ear against the wall.
Out of nowhere a half-man half-rat creature burst through the wall, tackling my father to the ground.
A struggle ensued.
My mother and my sister ran upstairs.
Thank everyone in this thread for this thread:
I wish all threads were like t-shirts that didn’t unravel, I’d like them to be brown, but not as white as bloodstained textile trees. Even, it would be more perfect as if that will ever happen on a regular basis wouldn’t be so special anymore if it were to be all colors at the same time. It just wouldn’t make sense to state that which is what or the other way around, because either way, the song that just started on the radio is a song. But how can it be a radio while really every radio seems to have both blue and wood in them. All radios are therefore not the same and equally different. Really, there is no difference between radios that propagate t-shirts that have white bloodstained threads on them. While this seemingly makes no sense, it really doesn’t if you look at it in the right way. But if you look at it in the wrong way, it will seem as if it isn’t untrue. While really all the truth is that remote controls are not always as visible as those that are more invisible. Some just have that special feature that makes food turn into drinks and drinks into remote controls that turns and twists until the very fabric and time are one. One and times make 2, the number 3 if you subtract from 5, while dividing the cucumber into more than 3 pieces. However, one piece may not provide piece for the whole world. Although you might think that one peace of a cake is made out of chocolate and the other cake is made out of chocolate, they are not what society wants you to think.
Cold and serene, heart pounding, I watched the scene unfold through the reality I had opened, ‘’this is madness,” my mind said. “what is this before me being released?” the window in the mind through which I sat perched, sensed him, black and warped, twisted, blackening the reality of the individual before me. Giggling, the individual that once was, swallowed the innocence before it, offering it as a blood sacrifice to the dark god growing within.
like an earthquake, the perspective bubble in which I sat started to lose integrity as a legion of voices shook the very foundation of the projection, growing louder and louder as the manic giggle changed in pitch to a manic gleeful cackle. distorted, insistent, and blind with rage, the voices spoke an unspoken command, “feed us, feed us, Feed Us, FEed US, FEED US!” i sensed the dark god’s power growing, entranced by it, i forget myself, and became lost within its expanding dark light,
this was a mistake, believing in my abilities to fully, i forgot the power of such beings, as it’s non-light expanded, it eventually touched the light of my perch. like an assassin realizing he has been seen in the act, the dark god and his minions all turned their gaze towards me, the cackling ceased, as even the individual’s awareness sensed a watcher, terrible was its gaze as it left the individual in my direction…
Ask me if I’m a boat.
Are you a boat?
Ask me if I’m a house.
Are you a house?
No! I’m a fucking boat!
A midget walks under a bar.
A dad buffalo and his son are hangin’ in the grass.
Kid buffalo is like hey dad screw you! I’m going off to college to be a real buffalo!
Dad buffalo says “Bison”
If you guys get any fish jokes let minnow.
Walleye can think of a few, they don’t come easy!
But I know for sure when a fish hits a wall they scream “DAM!”
–while dividing the cucumber into more than 3 pieces.–
see, while i agree that a cucumber is a genuine mathematical function, dividing it into 3 surely is not advisable, i say this because, if we consider all the radios, all the tee-shirts, and the bloodstains that drip from each, each drop can be measured by the chocolate society desires, which is peace, irregardless if the word irregardless is really a word in the first place
The rolling man
Man, was he rolling
What was the man rolling?
Rolling rolling rolling rolling, I am starting to forget what rolling means to an end of which craft. Craftsmen that made you mad bro?
You mad bro?
Melting brains to make new candles, that actually DO work, instead of those that have worked before time and space, outer space nonetheless!
Inner time and outer space that collide with words and sentences and sentences and brawn that is trying to overcome the brain. Brains turing into a game to substantiate yhe weakness of every hat is not strong enough. Strong enough the hold the weight of the rowld. The weight of the world, that wich has no end and it ultimately not flat, not perfectly round. A round fired from a pistol, bullets flying, healing because it contains seeds that spur new death. New death, new life, other forms of life that merge into neither life nor death, my brain, my brain, my fucking brain, Are you trying to understand? YOU CANÝ I tricked you, you fool, you tought yu knew the world, while it is, it is, it JUST FUCKING IS! How can you be so selfing to take up all my time, pondering, pondering, pondering over space and time, Hell, who says space and time exist, they exist right? Do they? Do you exist my brain, yes I do, I do, I am on the one typing this. It is not you, it is I, the brain, you are a slave under my control. CONTROL, total mindfucking control, is it free willy to fly over a fucking damn? Free willy can’t even fly and I am well known of this fact, Facts don’t exist, you don;t exist, I don’t exist, nothing exists, it falls away, it crumbles. It crumbles like rocks falling from the void into the space of smoke.
Time to go to sleep.
The first place, are you aware of witches brewing against your unfortune?
I would say that when you divide society into three groups, ultimately it would be the same as saying that choclate spelled as choclate is wrong. In your statement you seem so inconsistent that I can only make sure thiat if your blood drips, it doesn’t drip on the hands of men that work at the radio station. You can’t be genuine if you say that when math equals all radios and tea shirhs.
Am I going insane or is the world sane enough for me not to understand it?