an ode to toasterleavings (idea)
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sometimes i don't understand your words other times, they're all that floats in my head slipping in and around thoughts of what it is that might be keeping my feet placed so firmly upon the earth you're my little fungus blue, magical mushroom spouting off text into the e2 abyss you've got more experience than i can poke lovingly, with my stick of admiration it seems everything that leaves you has some level of potency, intrigue (be careful not to lose too much of yourself) it seems your dream switch, wires have been crossed, maybe broken everyone's do once in a while.. watch me try (i know i can't) to be the restorer of dreams, just for you(i know i couldn't understand everything that floats around in your intensely complex, twisted human brain, i think this is because you were meant to be born into a tree so that i could just admire the way your leaves would be a thousand shades of green and stand apart from all of the others. i see you as a poplar.. ask me about that some time, if you like.)
This is #2 in my slowly growing "ode to a noder" series.