A White Bunny in the ONA Hole

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The poem below is dedicated to my dearest friend, Darryl Hutchins, who is on his noble way to fight the Old Geezers and Magian pseudo-initiates, defend the truth, enlighten the ONA kids and reform the grand sinister cyber kollective.

Don’t be put off by the silly wording of the poem as the wisdom lies therein. The message is a secret key to the ONA sinisterly-numinous mysteries. Sort it out and don’t lose your heart.

Jabberwocky
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By Lewis Carroll
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’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
      Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
      And the mome raths outgrabe.
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 “Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
      The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
      The frumious Bandersnatch!”
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He took his vorpal sword in hand;
      Long time the manxome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Tumtum tree
      And stood awhile in thought.
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And, as in uffish thought he stood,
      The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
      And burbled as it came!
 .
One, two! One, two! And through and through
      The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
      He went galumphing back.
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“And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
      Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”
      He chortled in his joy.
 .
’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
      Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
      And the mome raths outgrabe.

Just a Voice in My Head

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Dear reader, this incoherent string of thoughts below is or could be my confession. I’m writing it down because I’m bored with the game I’ve been playing for too long a time. I’ve managed to fool everyone, including myself.

I’ve been living in this matrix I built for myself for the whole of my life. Or is this other people’s fault? I don’t have time to figure it out now. Enough of going round in circles. I just want to leave and let the door hit my ass on my way out.

They say I’m a misogynist. I’m not. I don’t hate women. I just don’t care. No no. It’s as if I didn’t care. Why do I feel a pang of pain if I see her in his arms? This one or that one. All the time the story repeats itself. What is wrong with me? Is my ego at fault? Why don’t they see me for what I am?

I say I don’t need them but I need them. I want to live alone, yet my middle finger shown to the world is a desperate cry for attention. My defiance is a sigh of a wounded heart. I struggle a lot to show how much I don’t care and hide my desire to impress.

Why do the bitches hate me? If I only knew why. I’m a little bit confused. What if my enemies exist only in my head?

So now I’m telling you all goodbye. Saying goodbye to the world of lies and stories. Leaving it behind and what did I expect to discover except for how deluded and stupid I’ve always been?

Everyone is a liar.

It seems my only fault is that I can only be good.