Yo! Mission accomplished, then. I used to play in a band. But I left in order to persue my own musical carrier as solo artist. My band was to insensitive to understand my songs. *Drama* :3
How about you? Play anything?

Wow you just made that song up right now on spot? That's pretty cute, I thought it was an actual older song. Are you in a band, and if so, what's the name?

That was a song I made up on the instance, with a fitting background story. :P

Punk rock puppies.

I think I'll write that song, too. :3

I can see that, if you're depressed I guess sometimes nothing has feeling, no meaning, thus resulting in dadaism.

2144? Last I checked this is 2012 right now, is this one of those B.C./A.C. things?

Those lyrics do certainly sound like a punk rock piece, there's no denying that lol. I've never heard of it, it's kind of a funny song, taking the war situation out of it.

The following is supposed to be a classic punk rock piece, alike it was fashion in the 70s of the 19th centurie on earth. It is about puppies. Puppies are the newborn to several months old spring of an animal the inhabitants of earth used to hold as pets. It was called "dog". This was quite fashionable amongst the inhabitants, selfpronounced "Humans" until the great dog war of 2144, where the enslaved animals, mostly the mentioned dogs, but also others, took a stand for their freedom and fought to death or glory. This was one of their war songs:

1, 2, 3, 4,
I'm feeling rather tired,
5, 6, 7, 8,
Don't you miss to be wired?
9, 10, 11, 12,
Don't you feel rather tired?

Punk rock puppies!
They are everywhere,
They poop everywhere,
They pee everywhere.

Punk rock puppies,
Better run and hide,
Or they're gonna bite
with their cuteness!

Cuz they're punk rock puppies!
PUNK ROCK PUPPIES!
YEAH!

Yeah, it's kind of more logical when you're depressed to the bones, somehow. I get a feeling most dadaists were just depressed as fuzzle and made the best out of it by creating some really weird art. :3

lol I would totally buy your devilish poetic book of POEMS. You're pretty creative with that warning label lmfao it may be lengthy and descriptive but nigga you ain't SCUR me, I would read that shit so fast you wouldn't be able to finish your dinner. (What the fuck am I even talking about.)

Thank you kindly for this experienced superior mega-cool masterly futuristic awesome flabbergasting snickering and humberlaying super-philsosphy cake. I will eat it with the utmost honor that you've given me just now. -bows-

I think I sort of understand, though I still find meaning in most everything, it's hard to stray away from the fact that a lot of things have meaning. I feel that way because those things give me feelings, whether they are positive or negative, they are feelings and that makes them have meaning.

Please don't wake me up,
Sleep can be a place of bliss,
So listen pup,
I insist,

You're not gonna get anywhere talking like that,
Maybe you'll end up in some alleyway,
Sitting and watching the rats,
Asking them if you can stay,

'Cause you have no home to go to,
No one to help you,
You just play with your shoe,
and hope for something new

Well, I gotta say,
You made your point,
You showed your way,
Here's a coin,

Don't spend it all,
Just some of it,
To buy this wall,
and some knit-kit.

Cuz my tutoring ain't so good,
And my tongue is lieing,
I'm in a destructive mood,
I wanna see you dieing.

And don't take me for serious,
No, really, it's a practical joke,
If you understand, it will be hilarious,
So thank me, 'cuz I just woke,
You up.

Where does this stuff come from? Piled up poetism. Ima write me some book with this shit and sell it for 666 bucks a piece. Ima be a big piece of poetic muthafucking ass, yo!


(I already see the title:

It's raining men.

So good, you gonna die.

Warning: The consumation of this material might actually have fatal outcome due to arousal so great, capable of inducing heart-failure, heart-attacks, blood-loss due to massive penis-inflation and general death by overhumping things. The weak-hearted are advised not to watch this.)

*sips some scotch* Well, my dear lad, I have to tell you, as a professor of experienced superior mega-cool masterly futuristic awesome flabbergasting snickering and humberlaying super-philsosphy, you might be right. *hands over experienced superior mega-cool masterly futuristic awesome flabbergasting snickering and humberlaying super-philsosphy cake*

*puff*

It has one, but it is meaningless in it self. It's kind of the idea, that whatever we do is done for various reasons, and those reasons are all meaningless and stupid eventually. Like we have sex because we are controlled by our hormones, the social pressure and our own desire to be loved and have someone to love, and those reasons are all kind of stupid in themself. (Maybe not the love one. I don't know. Blah.)
Get what I mean?
And I'm not even completely sure if that's what they meant, but that's how I interpret it. And somehow I gotta agree with it. Somehow.