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 [slip]ping 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.