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CodyC's Avatar CodyC
08-22-2008, 01:57 AM
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When in my late teens, easing into independent thought and starting to make some sense of it all, I was practically bathing in LSD. My place was among the dead-heads in the most eccentric, high-elevation towns Colorado has to offer. Clammoring about the streets of Telluride during the Bluegrass festival, eyeballs deep in........hallucination. SEEING the music rustle through the pines and trying not to get struck by it. Ahhh, memories......Many times; many times have I sat with a pen and paper, or a tape recorder, a gallon of orange juice, a ten strip of Felix the Cat, and the absolute intention on bringing back some or all of the answers mankind has been thirsting for since the dawn of time. If you have been where I have, then you know exactly what I mean. If you haven't been through that door, then you haven't a clue, and never will until you Lick Lucy. Anyway, the enlightenment I would attain could never quite be deciphered after the come-down. Not because of incoherent or sub-par thought, but because of my (our) inability to make out what the hell was being said or written. I suppose jibberish is the word. Was this the product of a mind in a drug-induced lapse of sanity, or something else? I can't remember what I was thinking, but I DEFINATELY remember having had just thought something extremely signifigant and profound! Another face of Deja Vu, leaving me just, if not more, perplexed with mystery....... Then, an epitome; When discussing the melodious effect of 3 or 4 hundred mikes of dose, I would always steer toward the metephor telling of the tribesman in bum-fuck-wherever that is suddenly, unexpectedly and completely, swept from his life of hunting, trees and not much else, and spontaneously dropped in the heart of the hopeless fucking hole we call L.A. His senses go into instant overdrive, not even close to keeping up with the new and alien input he is absorbing by the second. He sees our cars and our bars and our stores and our whores and our plastic and our fantastic pile of shit we call progress. He doesn't have the time nor the ability to conjure an opinion of our efforts and subsequent impact, for he is overloaded. Then, as instantly as he was brought, so is he returned. Back to the world the animals still see fit to reside in. He is immediately compelled to share his experience with his fellow folk. As they gather, all attentive and ready to listen, he is struck with a curious enigma. The things he has seen are not in his world, or the language it speaks. (I think the saying goes "there are no words to describe it...") At first, he tries to juxtapoze our buildings to really tall, ugly, lifeless trees, but not made of wood; something else, and people go inside them, but not like a hut. And the horses are not like any animal ever imagined, and the sky is dirty, but not like the river after rain........He is, of course, now smothered in a variety of bewhilderment. In the end, he is left with no other option than to start making his own new words for the new things he has seen. Our own trade-names can seem foriegn to the next guy. (I have heard a few concerning sailing that completely baffle me!) These terms do not exist until they are needed to associate a new idea or meaning. This by no means makes the source of these new words an idiot, simply a pioneer in progress. No matter, the audience just can't grasp the meaning, so the story goes mostly untold and unshared. However, this does not prove the dude wrong, at least not as far as The Real Truth is concerned. So the same should be said for the problem with retaining memory from a trip. My, point (finally) is that I see a huge resemblence in Keys/Rosetta lyrics. I'm not gonna go into why because I'm sure I need not, but I would dig any added thoughts, opinions, insights, insults or degradations concerning my bullshit......
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Old 08-22-2008, 01:57 AM   #1
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Forgotten Pens.....

When in my late teens, easing into independent thought and starting to make some sense of it all, I was practically bathing in LSD. My place was among the dead-heads in the most eccentric, high-elevation towns Colorado has to offer. Clammoring about the streets of Telluride during the Bluegrass festival, eyeballs deep in........hallucination. SEEING the music rustle through the pines and trying not to get struck by it. Ahhh, memories......Many times; many times have I sat with a pen and paper, or a tape recorder, a gallon of orange juice, a ten strip of Felix the Cat, and the absolute intention on bringing back some or all of the answers mankind has been thirsting for since the dawn of time. If you have been where I have, then you know exactly what I mean. If you haven't been through that door, then you haven't a clue, and never will until you Lick Lucy. Anyway, the enlightenment I would attain could never quite be deciphered after the come-down. Not because of incoherent or sub-par thought, but because of my (our) inability to make out what the hell was being said or written. I suppose jibberish is the word. Was this the product of a mind in a drug-induced lapse of sanity, or something else? I can't remember what I was thinking, but I DEFINATELY remember having had just thought something extremely signifigant and profound! Another face of Deja Vu, leaving me just, if not more, perplexed with mystery....... Then, an epitome; When discussing the melodious effect of 3 or 4 hundred mikes of dose, I would always steer toward the metephor telling of the tribesman in bum-fuck-wherever that is suddenly, unexpectedly and completely, swept from his life of hunting, trees and not much else, and spontaneously dropped in the heart of the hopeless fucking hole we call L.A. His senses go into instant overdrive, not even close to keeping up with the new and alien input he is absorbing by the second. He sees our cars and our bars and our stores and our whores and our plastic and our fantastic pile of shit we call progress. He doesn't have the time nor the ability to conjure an opinion of our efforts and subsequent impact, for he is overloaded. Then, as instantly as he was brought, so is he returned. Back to the world the animals still see fit to reside in. He is immediately compelled to share his experience with his fellow folk. As they gather, all attentive and ready to listen, he is struck with a curious enigma. The things he has seen are not in his world, or the language it speaks. (I think the saying goes "there are no words to describe it...") At first, he tries to juxtapoze our buildings to really tall, ugly, lifeless trees, but not made of wood; something else, and people go inside them, but not like a hut. And the horses are not like any animal ever imagined, and the sky is dirty, but not like the river after rain........He is, of course, now smothered in a variety of bewhilderment. In the end, he is left with no other option than to start making his own new words for the new things he has seen. Our own trade-names can seem foriegn to the next guy. (I have heard a few concerning sailing that completely baffle me!) These terms do not exist until they are needed to associate a new idea or meaning. This by no means makes the source of these new words an idiot, simply a pioneer in progress. No matter, the audience just can't grasp the meaning, so the story goes mostly untold and unshared. However, this does not prove the dude wrong, at least not as far as The Real Truth is concerned. So the same should be said for the problem with retaining memory from a trip. My, point (finally) is that I see a huge resemblence in Keys/Rosetta lyrics. I'm not gonna go into why because I'm sure I need not, but I would dig any added thoughts, opinions, insights, insults or degradations concerning my bullshit......
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08-25-2008, 07:57 AM
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Originally Posted by CodyC View Post
When in my late teens, easing into independent thought and starting to make some sense of it all, I was practically bathing in LSD. My place was among the dead-heads in the most eccentric, high-elevation towns Colorado has to offer. Clammoring about the streets of Telluride during the Bluegrass festival, eyeballs deep in........hallucination. SEEING the music rustle through the pines and trying not to get struck by it. Ahhh, memories......Many times; many times have I sat with a pen and paper, or a tape recorder, a gallon of orange juice, a ten strip of Felix the Cat, and the absolute intention on bringing back some or all of the answers mankind has been thirsting for since the dawn of time. If you have been where I have, then you know exactly what I mean. If you haven't been through that door, then you haven't a clue, and never will until you Lick Lucy. Anyway, the enlightenment I would attain could never quite be deciphered after the come-down. Not because of incoherent or sub-par thought, but because of my (our) inability to make out what the hell was being said or written. I suppose jibberish is the word. Was this the product of a mind in a drug-induced lapse of sanity, or something else? I can't remember what I was thinking, but I DEFINATELY remember having had just thought something extremely signifigant and profound! Another face of Deja Vu, leaving me just, if not more, perplexed with mystery....... Then, an epitome; When discussing the melodious effect of 3 or 4 hundred mikes of dose, I would always steer toward the metephor telling of the tribesman in bum-fuck-wherever that is suddenly, unexpectedly and completely, swept from his life of hunting, trees and not much else, and spontaneously dropped in the heart of the hopeless fucking hole we call L.A. His senses go into instant overdrive, not even close to keeping up with the new and alien input he is absorbing by the second. He sees our cars and our bars and our stores and our whores and our plastic and our fantastic pile of shit we call progress. He doesn't have the time nor the ability to conjure an opinion of our efforts and subsequent impact, for he is overloaded. Then, as instantly as he was brought, so is he returned. Back to the world the animals still see fit to reside in. He is immediately compelled to share his experience with his fellow folk. As they gather, all attentive and ready to listen, he is struck with a curious enigma. The things he has seen are not in his world, or the language it speaks. (I think the saying goes "there are no words to describe it...") At first, he tries to juxtapoze our buildings to really tall, ugly, lifeless trees, but not made of wood; something else, and people go inside them, but not like a hut. And the horses are not like any animal ever imagined, and the sky is dirty, but not like the river after rain........He is, of course, now smothered in a variety of bewhilderment. In the end, he is left with no other option than to start making his own new words for the new things he has seen. Our own trade-names can seem foriegn to the next guy. (I have heard a few concerning sailing that completely baffle me!) These terms do not exist until they are needed to associate a new idea or meaning. This by no means makes the source of these new words an idiot, simply a pioneer in progress. No matter, the audience just can't grasp the meaning, so the story goes mostly untold and unshared. However, this does not prove the dude wrong, at least not as far as The Real Truth is concerned. So the same should be said for the problem with retaining memory from a trip. My, point (finally) is that I see a huge resemblence in Keys/Rosetta lyrics. I'm not gonna go into why because I'm sure I need not, but I would dig any added thoughts, opinions, insights, insults or degradations concerning my bullshit......
Been there, done that. I get your overall point, but nonetheless a well shared story. The question I have for you is have you ever tried to reread your notes from previous excursions the following time you were tripping and did they make sense all over again?
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Old 08-25-2008, 07:57 AM   #2
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Re: Forgotten Pens.....

Quote:
Originally Posted by CodyC View Post
When in my late teens, easing into independent thought and starting to make some sense of it all, I was practically bathing in LSD. My place was among the dead-heads in the most eccentric, high-elevation towns Colorado has to offer. Clammoring about the streets of Telluride during the Bluegrass festival, eyeballs deep in........hallucination. SEEING the music rustle through the pines and trying not to get struck by it. Ahhh, memories......Many times; many times have I sat with a pen and paper, or a tape recorder, a gallon of orange juice, a ten strip of Felix the Cat, and the absolute intention on bringing back some or all of the answers mankind has been thirsting for since the dawn of time. If you have been where I have, then you know exactly what I mean. If you haven't been through that door, then you haven't a clue, and never will until you Lick Lucy. Anyway, the enlightenment I would attain could never quite be deciphered after the come-down. Not because of incoherent or sub-par thought, but because of my (our) inability to make out what the hell was being said or written. I suppose jibberish is the word. Was this the product of a mind in a drug-induced lapse of sanity, or something else? I can't remember what I was thinking, but I DEFINATELY remember having had just thought something extremely signifigant and profound! Another face of Deja Vu, leaving me just, if not more, perplexed with mystery....... Then, an epitome; When discussing the melodious effect of 3 or 4 hundred mikes of dose, I would always steer toward the metephor telling of the tribesman in bum-fuck-wherever that is suddenly, unexpectedly and completely, swept from his life of hunting, trees and not much else, and spontaneously dropped in the heart of the hopeless fucking hole we call L.A. His senses go into instant overdrive, not even close to keeping up with the new and alien input he is absorbing by the second. He sees our cars and our bars and our stores and our whores and our plastic and our fantastic pile of shit we call progress. He doesn't have the time nor the ability to conjure an opinion of our efforts and subsequent impact, for he is overloaded. Then, as instantly as he was brought, so is he returned. Back to the world the animals still see fit to reside in. He is immediately compelled to share his experience with his fellow folk. As they gather, all attentive and ready to listen, he is struck with a curious enigma. The things he has seen are not in his world, or the language it speaks. (I think the saying goes "there are no words to describe it...") At first, he tries to juxtapoze our buildings to really tall, ugly, lifeless trees, but not made of wood; something else, and people go inside them, but not like a hut. And the horses are not like any animal ever imagined, and the sky is dirty, but not like the river after rain........He is, of course, now smothered in a variety of bewhilderment. In the end, he is left with no other option than to start making his own new words for the new things he has seen. Our own trade-names can seem foriegn to the next guy. (I have heard a few concerning sailing that completely baffle me!) These terms do not exist until they are needed to associate a new idea or meaning. This by no means makes the source of these new words an idiot, simply a pioneer in progress. No matter, the audience just can't grasp the meaning, so the story goes mostly untold and unshared. However, this does not prove the dude wrong, at least not as far as The Real Truth is concerned. So the same should be said for the problem with retaining memory from a trip. My, point (finally) is that I see a huge resemblence in Keys/Rosetta lyrics. I'm not gonna go into why because I'm sure I need not, but I would dig any added thoughts, opinions, insights, insults or degradations concerning my bullshit......
Been there, done that. I get your overall point, but nonetheless a well shared story. The question I have for you is have you ever tried to reread your notes from previous excursions the following time you were tripping and did they make sense all over again?
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08-25-2008, 08:16 PM
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Originally Posted by Inner_Eulogy View Post
Been there, done that. I get your overall point, but nonetheless a well shared story. The question I have for you is have you ever tried to reread your notes from previous excursions the following time you were tripping and did they make sense all over again?
Uh..........well.........I........can't remember
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Old 08-25-2008, 08:16 PM   #3
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Re: Forgotten Pens.....

Quote:
Originally Posted by Inner_Eulogy View Post
Been there, done that. I get your overall point, but nonetheless a well shared story. The question I have for you is have you ever tried to reread your notes from previous excursions the following time you were tripping and did they make sense all over again?
Uh..........well.........I........can't remember
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08-26-2008, 10:13 AM
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Originally Posted by CodyC View Post
Uh..........well.........I........can't remember
Goddamn, ya' shit the bed
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Old 08-26-2008, 10:13 AM   #4
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Re: Forgotten Pens.....

Quote:
Originally Posted by CodyC View Post
Uh..........well.........I........can't remember
Goddamn, ya' shit the bed
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08-26-2008, 02:30 PM
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Originally Posted by CodyC View Post
I'm not gonna go into why because I'm sure I need not,
Thank God... it was a big enough thought already.

LOL

Quite a read, but enjoyable. Thanks for sharing.
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Old 08-26-2008, 02:30 PM   #5
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Re: Forgotten Pens.....

Quote:
Originally Posted by CodyC View Post
I'm not gonna go into why because I'm sure I need not,
Thank God... it was a big enough thought already.

LOL

Quite a read, but enjoyable. Thanks for sharing.
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singlevinylalbum's Avatar singlevinylalbum
10-31-2008, 02:20 AM
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Quote:
Originally Posted by CodyC View Post
When in my late teens, easing into independent thought and starting to make some sense of it all, I was practically bathing in LSD. My place was among the dead-heads in the most eccentric, high-elevation towns Colorado has to offer. Clammoring about the streets of Telluride during the Bluegrass festival, eyeballs deep in........hallucination. SEEING the music rustle through the pines and trying not to get struck by it. Ahhh, memories......Many times; many times have I sat with a pen and paper, or a tape recorder, a gallon of orange juice, a ten strip of Felix the Cat, and the absolute intention on bringing back some or all of the answers mankind has been thirsting for since the dawn of time. If you have been where I have, then you know exactly what I mean. If you haven't been through that door, then you haven't a clue, and never will until you Lick Lucy. Anyway, the enlightenment I would attain could never quite be deciphered after the come-down. Not because of incoherent or sub-par thought, but because of my (our) inability to make out what the hell was being said or written. I suppose jibberish is the word. Was this the product of a mind in a drug-induced lapse of sanity, or something else? I can't remember what I was thinking, but I DEFINATELY remember having had just thought something extremely signifigant and profound! Another face of Deja Vu, leaving me just, if not more, perplexed with mystery....... Then, an epitome; When discussing the melodious effect of 3 or 4 hundred mikes of dose, I would always steer toward the metephor telling of the tribesman in bum-fuck-wherever that is suddenly, unexpectedly and completely, swept from his life of hunting, trees and not much else, and spontaneously dropped in the heart of the hopeless fucking hole we call L.A. His senses go into instant overdrive, not even close to keeping up with the new and alien input he is absorbing by the second. He sees our cars and our bars and our stores and our whores and our plastic and our fantastic pile of shit we call progress. He doesn't have the time nor the ability to conjure an opinion of our efforts and subsequent impact, for he is overloaded. Then, as instantly as he was brought, so is he returned. Back to the world the animals still see fit to reside in. He is immediately compelled to share his experience with his fellow folk. As they gather, all attentive and ready to listen, he is struck with a curious enigma. The things he has seen are not in his world, or the language it speaks. (I think the saying goes "there are no words to describe it...") At first, he tries to juxtapoze our buildings to really tall, ugly, lifeless trees, but not made of wood; something else, and people go inside them, but not like a hut. And the horses are not like any animal ever imagined, and the sky is dirty, but not like the river after rain........He is, of course, now smothered in a variety of bewhilderment. In the end, he is left with no other option than to start making his own new words for the new things he has seen. Our own trade-names can seem foriegn to the next guy. (I have heard a few concerning sailing that completely baffle me!) These terms do not exist until they are needed to associate a new idea or meaning. This by no means makes the source of these new words an idiot, simply a pioneer in progress. No matter, the audience just can't grasp the meaning, so the story goes mostly untold and unshared. However, this does not prove the dude wrong, at least not as far as The Real Truth is concerned. So the same should be said for the problem with retaining memory from a trip. My, point (finally) is that I see a huge resemblence in Keys/Rosetta lyrics. I'm not gonna go into why because I'm sure I need not, but I would dig any added thoughts, opinions, insights, insults or degradations concerning my bullshit......
Why hello..
Thank you for sharing indeed.
I havent been much of a acid tripper...only 10 trips or so and those all taken years if not even a decay ago.(I dont even like acid...havent missed lsd)
I have enjoyed myself plenty of magic mushrooms earlier in my life tho.

NOW...it has felt like i was constantly on some sort of a psychedelic trip...this past month or so.

maybe its just cause i have been in a creative zone.

Anyhow...

I get the rosetta stoned ,lost keys connection somehow too.

This morning i woke up 5 in the morning..
And thought how irrelevant the "pen" is when facing ...¨the one so hard to put to words¨
Cause if it is the state that one can only sense,then the memory and experience of it ,is much more important than the pen.

It also reminds me of a dream i had year 2004... i recall this cause it was my sisters bands
(g-litter : highway / diskossa (pingispong 12'' 2004)
release party ,where i told about this dream to one of my friends

Dream was:
I gave Maynard a golden key.

(I didnt told my friend i gave it to Maynard ,i just told i gave it to someone )

She replied ,that maybe it was a key to your heart.

After that i bought myself a pair of golden clef earrings.

Cause a clef is:

nuotti-avain in finnish..

nuotti : note and avain : key

note key

and those both words (note and key) can be translated to:
Sävel in finnish.

Sävel being:melody,tune,NOTE,tone,voice and KEY


So thank you for posting that cause it gave me the courage to tell you this ,tho the
mental police could think it as jibberish.

Hope you dont mind.

Just skip this if it doesnt make sense.

Just thought i share my memory.

----

Bay be
__________________
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Old 10-31-2008, 02:20 AM   #6
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Re: Forgotten Pens.....

Quote:
Originally Posted by CodyC View Post
When in my late teens, easing into independent thought and starting to make some sense of it all, I was practically bathing in LSD. My place was among the dead-heads in the most eccentric, high-elevation towns Colorado has to offer. Clammoring about the streets of Telluride during the Bluegrass festival, eyeballs deep in........hallucination. SEEING the music rustle through the pines and trying not to get struck by it. Ahhh, memories......Many times; many times have I sat with a pen and paper, or a tape recorder, a gallon of orange juice, a ten strip of Felix the Cat, and the absolute intention on bringing back some or all of the answers mankind has been thirsting for since the dawn of time. If you have been where I have, then you know exactly what I mean. If you haven't been through that door, then you haven't a clue, and never will until you Lick Lucy. Anyway, the enlightenment I would attain could never quite be deciphered after the come-down. Not because of incoherent or sub-par thought, but because of my (our) inability to make out what the hell was being said or written. I suppose jibberish is the word. Was this the product of a mind in a drug-induced lapse of sanity, or something else? I can't remember what I was thinking, but I DEFINATELY remember having had just thought something extremely signifigant and profound! Another face of Deja Vu, leaving me just, if not more, perplexed with mystery....... Then, an epitome; When discussing the melodious effect of 3 or 4 hundred mikes of dose, I would always steer toward the metephor telling of the tribesman in bum-fuck-wherever that is suddenly, unexpectedly and completely, swept from his life of hunting, trees and not much else, and spontaneously dropped in the heart of the hopeless fucking hole we call L.A. His senses go into instant overdrive, not even close to keeping up with the new and alien input he is absorbing by the second. He sees our cars and our bars and our stores and our whores and our plastic and our fantastic pile of shit we call progress. He doesn't have the time nor the ability to conjure an opinion of our efforts and subsequent impact, for he is overloaded. Then, as instantly as he was brought, so is he returned. Back to the world the animals still see fit to reside in. He is immediately compelled to share his experience with his fellow folk. As they gather, all attentive and ready to listen, he is struck with a curious enigma. The things he has seen are not in his world, or the language it speaks. (I think the saying goes "there are no words to describe it...") At first, he tries to juxtapoze our buildings to really tall, ugly, lifeless trees, but not made of wood; something else, and people go inside them, but not like a hut. And the horses are not like any animal ever imagined, and the sky is dirty, but not like the river after rain........He is, of course, now smothered in a variety of bewhilderment. In the end, he is left with no other option than to start making his own new words for the new things he has seen. Our own trade-names can seem foriegn to the next guy. (I have heard a few concerning sailing that completely baffle me!) These terms do not exist until they are needed to associate a new idea or meaning. This by no means makes the source of these new words an idiot, simply a pioneer in progress. No matter, the audience just can't grasp the meaning, so the story goes mostly untold and unshared. However, this does not prove the dude wrong, at least not as far as The Real Truth is concerned. So the same should be said for the problem with retaining memory from a trip. My, point (finally) is that I see a huge resemblence in Keys/Rosetta lyrics. I'm not gonna go into why because I'm sure I need not, but I would dig any added thoughts, opinions, insights, insults or degradations concerning my bullshit......
Why hello..
Thank you for sharing indeed.
I havent been much of a acid tripper...only 10 trips or so and those all taken years if not even a decay ago.(I dont even like acid...havent missed lsd)
I have enjoyed myself plenty of magic mushrooms earlier in my life tho.

NOW...it has felt like i was constantly on some sort of a psychedelic trip...this past month or so.

maybe its just cause i have been in a creative zone.

Anyhow...

I get the rosetta stoned ,lost keys connection somehow too.

This morning i woke up 5 in the morning..
And thought how irrelevant the "pen" is when facing ...¨the one so hard to put to words¨
Cause if it is the state that one can only sense,then the memory and experience of it ,is much more important than the pen.

It also reminds me of a dream i had year 2004... i recall this cause it was my sisters bands
(g-litter : highway / diskossa (pingispong 12'' 2004)
release party ,where i told about this dream to one of my friends

Dream was:
I gave Maynard a golden key.

(I didnt told my friend i gave it to Maynard ,i just told i gave it to someone )

She replied ,that maybe it was a key to your heart.

After that i bought myself a pair of golden clef earrings.

Cause a clef is:

nuotti-avain in finnish..

nuotti : note and avain : key

note key

and those both words (note and key) can be translated to:
Sävel in finnish.

Sävel being:melody,tune,NOTE,tone,voice and KEY


So thank you for posting that cause it gave me the courage to tell you this ,tho the
mental police could think it as jibberish.

Hope you dont mind.

Just skip this if it doesnt make sense.

Just thought i share my memory.

----

Bay be
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10-31-2008, 02:24 AM
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Quote:
Originally Posted by singlevinylalbum View Post
(I didnt told my friend i gave it to Maynard ,i just told i gave it to someone )
oooops. *i didnt tell ...
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Old 10-31-2008, 02:24 AM   #7
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Re: Forgotten Pens.....

Quote:
Originally Posted by singlevinylalbum View Post
(I didnt told my friend i gave it to Maynard ,i just told i gave it to someone )
oooops. *i didnt tell ...
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10-31-2008, 05:41 AM
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So thank you for posting that cause it gave me the courage to tell you this ,tho the mental police could think it as jibberish.
Everything I've seen you post is utter jibberish thus far
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Old 10-31-2008, 05:41 AM   #8
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Re: Forgotten Pens.....

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Originally Posted by singlevinylalbum View Post
So thank you for posting that cause it gave me the courage to tell you this ,tho the mental police could think it as jibberish.
Everything I've seen you post is utter jibberish thus far
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10-31-2008, 05:55 AM
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Originally Posted by Inner_Eulogy View Post
Everything I've seen you post is utter jibberish thus far
By all means..
Thats your problem.
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Old 10-31-2008, 05:55 AM   #9
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Re: Forgotten Pens.....

Quote:
Originally Posted by Inner_Eulogy View Post
Everything I've seen you post is utter jibberish thus far
By all means..
Thats your problem.
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10-31-2008, 05:56 AM
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cause...i was replying to this...
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Originally Posted by CodyC View Post
but I would dig any added thoughts, opinions, insights, insults or degradations concerning my bullshit......
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Old 10-31-2008, 05:56 AM   #10
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Re: Forgotten Pens.....

cause...i was replying to this...
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Originally Posted by CodyC View Post
but I would dig any added thoughts, opinions, insights, insults or degradations concerning my bullshit......
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10-31-2008, 06:13 AM
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By all means..
Thats your problem.
Not really, you're the one incapable of streaming together a coherent sentence, not I.
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Old 10-31-2008, 06:13 AM   #11
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Re: Forgotten Pens.....

Quote:
Originally Posted by singlevinylalbum View Post
By all means..
Thats your problem.
Not really, you're the one incapable of streaming together a coherent sentence, not I.
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10-31-2008, 06:22 AM
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Originally Posted by Inner_Eulogy View Post
Not really, you're the one incapable of streaming together a coherent sentence, not I.
Clever sentence.Try police academy.
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Old 10-31-2008, 06:22 AM   #12
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Re: Forgotten Pens.....

Quote:
Originally Posted by Inner_Eulogy View Post
Not really, you're the one incapable of streaming together a coherent sentence, not I.
Clever sentence.Try police academy.
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10-31-2008, 06:28 AM
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Clever sentence.Try police academy.
Try selling your computer for crack and go sit on a corner where you belong
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Old 10-31-2008, 06:28 AM   #13
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Re: Forgotten Pens.....

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Originally Posted by singlevinylalbum View Post
Clever sentence.Try police academy.
Try selling your computer for crack and go sit on a corner where you belong
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10-31-2008, 06:35 AM
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Why hello..
Just skip this if it doesnt make sense.
It seems no matter how clear sentence,you just dont get it.
And please...leave my computer out of this.
Your opinions are much appreciated ..can you now leave mine alone.
i dont like aggressive relations.
k?
ps.you can keep the crack
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Old 10-31-2008, 06:35 AM   #14
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Re: Forgotten Pens.....

Quote:
Originally Posted by singlevinylalbum View Post
Why hello..
Just skip this if it doesnt make sense.
It seems no matter how clear sentence,you just dont get it.
And please...leave my computer out of this.
Your opinions are much appreciated ..can you now leave mine alone.
i dont like aggressive relations.
k?
ps.you can keep the crack
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10-31-2008, 06:53 AM
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Quote:
Originally Posted by singlevinylalbum View Post
It seems no matter how clear sentence,you just dont get it.
And please...leave my computer out of this.
Your opinions are much appreciated ..can you now leave mine alone.
i dont like aggressive relations.
k?
ps.you can keep the crack
lol, what a moron
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Old 10-31-2008, 06:53 AM   #15
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Re: Forgotten Pens.....

Quote:
Originally Posted by singlevinylalbum View Post
It seems no matter how clear sentence,you just dont get it.
And please...leave my computer out of this.
Your opinions are much appreciated ..can you now leave mine alone.
i dont like aggressive relations.
k?
ps.you can keep the crack
lol, what a moron
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Old 08-22-2010, 07:22 PM   #16
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Re: Forgotten Pens.....

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rembrandt_q_einstein's Avatar rembrandt_q_einstein
02-12-2012, 03:28 AM
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Why hello..
Thank you for sharing indeed.
I havent been much of a acid tripper...only 10 trips or so and those all taken years if not even a decay ago.(I dont even like acid...havent missed lsd)
i dont even like acid... havent missed lsd... what?????????????? arent lsd and acid the same thing or am i missing something?
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Old 02-12-2012, 03:28 AM   #17
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Re: Forgotten Pens.....

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Originally Posted by singlevinylalbum View Post
Why hello..
Thank you for sharing indeed.
I havent been much of a acid tripper...only 10 trips or so and those all taken years if not even a decay ago.(I dont even like acid...havent missed lsd)
i dont even like acid... havent missed lsd... what?????????????? arent lsd and acid the same thing or am i missing something?
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