FiFi LaFeles
said
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as a recruitment thread it's been a spectacular failure. We probably got about 20 people posting, almost all of whom never came back.
I wait till you're not expecting me. Muahahahaha.
and hung by our own petard.
"Hoist with his own petard" is a Shakespearean idiom from Hamlet meaning
"to cause the bomb maker to be blown up with his own bomb"
. A petard is a small bomb used for blowing up gates and walls when breaching fortifications. It is of French origin and dates back to the 16th century. A typical petard was a conical or rectangular metal device containing 2–3 kg (5 or 6 pounds) of gunpowder, with a slow match for a fuse.
So how do you get hung from a bomb? Interested minds want to know.
FiFi LaFeles
said
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RSOF is such a dinosaur, maaaaaan, Discord's where it's at these days, apparently.
Discord I *am* willing to move to.
FiFi LaFeles
said
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And as for posting in a certain thread ... yeah, well. Enjoy the snotty comment.
Feefs, you just have to understand ART!
ART!
Thanks to our Russian speaking, if apparently underage, friend, I feel I have made a major break through in the poetry world. One simply creates a poem, and then immediately deletes it, and then makes a poem about deleting the previous poem and then deletes that as well.
In doing so you are making a statement about nature. The Universe. Life. Everything.
Please, let me explain...
We live in a Universe of permanence but at the same time we, as individuals, have a limited time to enjoy it. The world around us exists before we are born, and presumably exists after we die. While we live our minds give us the capacity to enjoy, to love, to gasp in wonder at such things like natural beauty and to appreciate those around us whom we love.
Consider our minds, which endow us with the capacity to feel, understand, to wonder, to love. But from where do our minds ultimately come from? How did our minds originate? Follow the reasoning to an inescapable end and we conclude: Ultimately our minds come from the Universe that surrounds us. A Universe that oftentimes appears devoid of sentience, that seems cold and heartless, not caring one bit for our existence. We die. The Universe continues on, as it has always done.
The self deleting poem makes a statement about this aspect of our existence.
The self deleting poem reflects, symbolises, the relationship between the Universe and the creatures, such as ourselves, who but for a moment in time, may pause in wonder at the astonishing beauty of our environment. A beauty which is created for our vision for no other reason, apparently, than to bestow upon our minds an appreciation for the wondrous but fleeting experience of it all.
We live, we love, we die, and then it is all gone.
Its just...just....JUST SO EPHEMERAL !!!6!!!
And very deep.
I failed to keep my New Year's resolution before I even made it.