It is not in time that you precede times. Otherwise you would not precede all times. In the sublimity of an eternity which is always in the present, you are before all things past and transcend all things future, because they are still to come.
I wrote a fanfic about a pony music critic writing reviews of DJ PON-3's music. My critic is basically all the worst traits of Pitchfork's music writing, concentrated into a single person, with references to a few music reviews on other websites that haunted me with their stupidity.
There's a scene of actual narrative in the penultimate chapter (which I haven’t published yet--I'm spacing these out for maximum views) but otherwise it's just magazine excerpts.
Comments
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
damn, Tamlin, that take was so hot I can feel my fingers tingling with sparks
I dunno if this'll embed but whatever
I hate things that are colorful
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
I know I'm ill when I can drink hot chocolate and not burn my throat because it's so swollen.
Kinda crucial for my survival, y'know
I keep having really vivid nightmares
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
Is there anything else to it besides the critiques?
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead