chant
mikey does anyone else love monks chanting? i burned my own cd of it lots of it to relax to sometimes sleep to. LOVE IT 010312
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pilgrim Gregorian Chant is quite erotic
Playing soft in the distance
When playing Bondage and Dicipline Games
With someone You Love.
I suppose it's a Catholic Thing.
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silentbob no justice, no peace
no justice, no peace
no justice, no peace
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unhinged i can't stop laughing....hahahaha 010313
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mikey i like pilgrim's idea. 010313
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johnny west Laughter is a chant in itself: THE MAD LAUGHTER OF STARVING ASSES. Whatever that means. 010313
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johnny west Chants taken from the Injured Workers March:

MOURN FOR THE DEAD; FIGHT FOR THE LIVING!

I CAME HERE TO WORK, NOT TO DIE!

TOXIC FINGERS, TOXIC TOES, STICK YOUR FINGERS UP YOUR NOSE!

Or, my fave:

FUCK THE GOVERNMENT!
FUCK THE GOVERNMENT!
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dB I have a chant that I say before before I go on stage.

Give me the strength.
Give the the stamina.
Give the the will.
To do this thing right.
Give me the audience.

don't know why, but I always either say it or think it.
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DammitJanet stale air.
dim lights.
shuffling feet.
muffled whispers.
nagging coughs.
upset children.
chant. chant. chant.
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music begins to fill the room. the sounds flow through me, lifts me up, lets me feel. for a split second i wonder where the hate started.
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stale air.
dim lights.
shuffling feet.
muffled whispers.
nagging coughs.
upset children.
chant. chant. chant.
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it's always like routine. where i no longer need to think, i just act. but this time i'm lost. i wonder what i say. when i say it. what's going on. my blood is burning my face.
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stale air.
dim lights.
shuffling feet.
muffled whispers.
nagging coughs.
upset children.
chant. chant. chant.
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what makes this place so special? these walls? these pictures? the simple decor? or the person who lives here? so much content. so much conciet. so much contradiction and hypocrisy.
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stale air.
dim lights.
shuffling feet.
muffled whispers.
nagging coughs.
upset children.
chant. chant. chant.
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i wonder why i came. why i feel the need, the draw. does it really matter? what makes this different from any other? i never pay attention, always in my own world, thinking thoughts that make me feel immoral for thinking them here.
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stale air.
dim lights.
shuffling feet.
muffled whispers.
nagging coughs.
upset children.
chant. chant. chant.
...
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raze you don't look like your pictures. i don't look like my pictures. no one looks like their pictures. people are always more flawed, more interesting, more complicated when they become three-dimensional and they're not just an image on a screen or pixels on a sheet of something printed or processed.

it's fitting that your name is spelled the way it is. you sing, but i haven't heard you sing. you write poetry i haven't read. you live in places i haven't visited. places like parenthood. you hug goodbye.

i don't know if we'll be friends. that's up to you. if we never speak again this way, it was a nice forty minutes we shared before you had to go. the tea i drank healed something in me. something small, but worth noticing. i wonder what kind of scar it's going to make, and how long i'll have to look at it to know.
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what's it to you?
who go
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